Page 38 of Advanced Chemistry

13

SEBASTIAN

Iwas a moderately intelligent guy. I did well in school. I co-ran a business. I could squat 280 pounds. Why was it that Anton caused my brain to completely short-circuit?

Of course Anton invited Chase out tonight. He didn’t want to hang out just us. He definitely didn’t want to hear about my feelings for him. He had sex on the brain. He’d wanted to get the three of us together since the second Chase left our apartment last week.

How could I keep letting myself fall into these traps, thinking that we were going to have some breakthrough moment where we confess our feelings to each other?

He wanted Chase. Chase was the shiny new thing for Anton to play with. I was just a side offering to sweeten the deal. I was the plain baked potato they served with a sizzling sirloin steak.

“What are you drinking?” I held up Chase’s glass and examined the contents. “Looks like Sprite?”

“Sprite and vodka.”

“I didn’t know that was a real drink.” Chase grabbed for it, but I held it out of his reach.

It wasn’t Chase’s fault that he got roped into this, but that didn’t stop my competitive side from unleashing itself. Unfortunately, my pathetic crush on Anton couldn’t let me take it out on him.

I took a sip of Chase’s drink and watched him recoil.

“All you do is combine Sprite and vodka. It’s not rocket science,” Anton said, taking the glass and handing it back to Chase.

“Technically, the alchemy of these two substances does share vague similarities with the combustants utilized to power rocket ships.” Chase pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “So it is a little like rocket science.”

“How cool is that?” Anton softly rubbed his back, his hand getting dangerously close to ass territory. How many years had I longed for Anton to casually drift a hand down my back?

I slammed my drink on the table. “Chase, I have a question for you. Why does South Rock make students take science classes all four years of high school? I never understood that. Most of us will never use what we learned in your class in the real world. Seems kind of a waste, right?”

“It’s not a waste, dude,” Anton said. “Knowledge is power.”

“Says the C-minus student,” I shot back.

Anton was always the first one to make fun of his lackluster grades, but he froze up at my comment, a wounded puppy look flashing across his face for a second. Chase’s eyes bugged open, reading the room. Just as I was about to apologize, Anton burst out laughing.

“I earned that C-minus fair and square, Dude.” He toasted my drink, squashing at least some of the awkwardness around the table. His hand remained on Chase’s back, refueling my anger.

“Chase, what do you think of the saying ‘Those who can’t do, teach?’” I asked.

“I would disagree,” Chase said.

I snorted a laugh.

“What is your glass made of?” he asked.

“This?” I held up my drink. “Uh, glass? I don’t fucking know.”

“We’ve established that you are holding a glass. And again, we come to my original question. What is your glass made of?” A cunning smile curled onto Chase’s lips.

“I don’t know.”

“You mix together sand, or silicone dioxide, soda ash, and limestone and heat them at a very high temperature to form a thick liquid. The soda ash lowers the sand’s melting point, but if we left it at that, then the liquid would dissolve in water. We can’t have glass dissolving when it hits water, or else your rum and Coke would dribble down your arm. That’s where the limestone comes in. The calcium carbonate keeps the melted sand from dissolving, allowing it to harden from a liquid. There are multiple chemical reactions going on, raw materials working together in a tightly coordinated effort, all so you can enjoy a happy hour cocktail. Now, don’t you think it’s important for students to be taught the basic tenets of a discipline that’s responsible for every single physical item in their world?”

Chase rested his face against his hand as he stared me down, bringing that Willy Wonka meme to life. It seemed I’d found the one nerd who knew how to push back. I wanted to squash him.

“Isn’t it possible that team sports, like wrestling, are a bigger waste of time since the overwhelming majority of students don’t go on to play those sports at a professional or Olympic level?”

“Hey now. Don’t go dissing wrestling,” Anton said, but he was becoming less of a factor in this discussion.

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