What I’d said when we met was “Hello.” What I should have done was say “I’m sorry.” I greeted her because it was the first time I’d ever seen her before, and the apology would be for bumping into her. She dropped the beaker she was holding, and even though it shattered, she smiled.

And there began our romance of chemical equations (and even though water could be made in so many ways, you and me always made us), of structure, of energy. Romance to the class, romance to each other. The way she spoke to me, I never knew if she liked me and loved the class, or if it was the other way around. She never showed up to Science Club, even when I asked, which only made things harder to figure out. (Like a variable in an equation, only not.)

Our first ‘date,’ if you can call it that (we didn’t even hold hands, as if we were afraid of what would happen) was to the movies. It was some horror film I don’t remember, and she stared at the screen with a gaze that revealed her imagining death as it was shown on camera. While the credits were rolling, she turned to me, smiled, and said, “They would bleed more in real life.” I just figured she was inexperienced with love, but knew that if she tried to kiss me, I would be afraid. Maybe we were both afraid, or she wasn’t and I just didn’t know it.

Almost the entire school year went by before I fully realized we were even in a relationship, or our version of one. Dumbed-down, simplified. It was perfect. I don’t even know why, but something about this purity in love felt more like love than any other relationships looked. Nothing about us made sense, and I loved it. She took my hand one day in May and I was surprised when it felt natural. “You know something?” she asked. Her eyes and mine didn’t meet. Without waiting for a response, she laughed and said, “I always faked liking science.”

For some reason, I burst out laughing as well, and the tension disappeared from the line of her shoulders. “I know.” I hadn’t. But I liked her enough to lie. It was so simple, I didn’t understand. She smiled, kissed my cheek, and I knew it was worth it.

Science is an awful class.

On a note pertaining to the story, you can once again choose the gender of our main character. My, don't you feel special?