Crescendo, Hush 2 - Webnode

“Tonight, seven o’clock,” Mom said in a voice that shut out all
argument.
I hurried into chemistry with seconds to spare and slid onto a
metal stool behind a black granite lab table on the front row.
Seating was two to a table, and I had my fingers crossed that I’d
g e t paired with someone whose understanding of science
surpassed my own, which, given my standard, wasn’t hard to
beat. I tended to be more of a romantic than a realist, and
chose blind faith over cold logic. Which put science and me at
odds right from the start.
Marcie Millar strolled into the room wearing heels, jeans, and
a silk top from Banana Republic that I had on my back-to-school
wish list. By Labor Day, the shirt would be on the clearance rack
and in my price range. I was in the process of mentally wiping
the shirt off the list when Marcie settled onto the stool beside
me.
“What’s up with your hair?” she said. “Ran out of mousse?
Patience?” A smile lifted one side of her mouth. “Or is it
because you had to run four miles to get here on time?”
“What happened to staying out of each other’s way?” I gave
a pointed look at her stool, then mine, communicating that
twenty-four inches wasn’t staying out of the way.
“I need something from you.”
I exhaled silently, stabilizing my blood pressure. I should have
known. “Here’s the thing, Marcie,” I said. “We both know this
class is going to be insanely hard. Let me do you a favor and
warn you that science is my worst subject. The only reason I’m
doing summer school is because I heard chemistry is easier