Page 13 of Fostering Chemistry
I nodded, as if I knew what she was talking about. But then I actually did think of something to say. “How do you like the house?”
“I like it so far. A bit different from what I was expecting. You and Aaron lived there last year, right?”
“Yeah, and Diego. Everyone else left at the end of the year.”
Her brow wrinkled as she studied me, and I knew what was coming. Nearly everyone who spoke to me got that same expression. It meant she was trying to figure out what the edge to my voice was. A faint accent? A mild speech impediment? I’d heard all the guesses over the years. I couldn’t help people from wondering, but it pissed me off when they asked about it.
But that wasn’t what she asked. “Did you understand the lecture?”
“I didn’t listen.”
She blinked, as if surprised I admitted it. But then she nodded. “Chemistry’s not my favorite subject, either. But I’ve got to get all the general ed classes out of the way.”
“Yeah.” That was it, the extent of what I could think of to say. I leaned back against my desk, and something dropped on the floor between the rows of chairs.
Shit. It was the pencil I’d been using as a drumstick. I bent down at the same time she did, and we almost bumped heads. I froze until she stepped back, and then I picked up the pencil, stashing it in my bag.
The room was almost empty, giving me fewer places to look besides directly at her. And that was hard to do. It was like she was a bright light I couldn’t stare at for too long. Besides, with that little white top, held up only by thin straps, and those tight jeans, there weren’t many parts of her I could look at without creeping her out.
“So, I guess I’ll see you around the house?” She sounded a little disappointed with our conversation—a reaction I was very used to.
“Yeah, sure.” At some point. Eventually. “See ya.”
As she walked away, I tried desperately to distract myself from watching her ass.
“Mia,” I blurted out instead.
She turned, and I flushed, not sure why I’d spoken up. “I, uh, was just making sure I remembered your name.”
Then she smiled, her mouth wide and appealing. “I’m glad you did.”
6
MIA
"Does it always smell that good?"I asked Aaron. It was Tuesday night—my first household dinner. Diego was in the kitchen cooking, and the smells that floated into the dining room were mouthwatering.
"Yes," Aaron said. "At least when someone other than me cooks."
"I know the feeling."
Diego had waved off Aaron and me when we offered to help in the kitchen, but he’d given us another task. During the weekdays, the dining room often served as a study room. On Tuesday nights, it had to be put back so that everyone could eat together.
Bookcases lined one wall. Unlike the shelves in the pantries, these actually had labels so that residents could keep their textbooks there if they liked. However, it looked like those labels hadn’t been updated in years. I was pretty sure none of the students listed there still lived in the house. In fact, half of them were probably retired by now.
"So this room is kind of..." I trailed off, not wanting to be insulting.
Aaron filled in the blank. "A huge mess?"
"Well, yeah.”
“It can get that way. Most of us take pretty good care of our rooms, take our turns cleaning the kitchen and all, but this is where we really hit the books. And survive on snacks and energy drinks."
He pointed to a trashcan in the corner that was overflowing with empty cans and bottles. "As you can see."
We worked in silence for a few minutes. I picked up anything off the floor—trash and fallen papers and pens. He cleared the dining room table, putting books, notebooks, and even a laptop on the shelves lining the wall.
The table was old but made of good, sturdy wood. It was oblong, rounded at the ends. I did a quick head count in my mind. If everyone came, there would be seven of us eating here tonight.
