Page 58 of Drown Like Heaven
I glanced down at my phone, then swore under my breath. “Shit, Mila. I have work soon.”
Her eyes widened. Clearly we’d both forgotten this was supposed to be a quick trip to fill time before she dropped me off at the gas station. But it was alright; we still had plenty of time to get there.
Mila rushed over to the checkout to buy the few things she’d accumulated over our minutes of browsing, then yanked with me out the sliding glass door of the thrift store, giant plastic bagof clothes swinging in her hand. We hopped into her car, Mila spent too much time picking out the music, then we drove off.
Eric was at the register when I walked in, electronic chime sounding above my head, and I fired off a quick text to Mila as I greeted him. He wasn’t often working at the register when she dropped me off, so she needed to take advantage of the opportunity.
Me :Get your ass in here. Buy something while I go to the bathroom
She sent back a terrified emoji. I giggled, then dumped my bag on the stool behind the counter and scurried past Eric to the family bathroom. I heard the door to the station opening a second later.Brave girl.
I stayed in the bathroom for a minute, my ear pressed to the door like a creep, but I didn’t hear anything. Was she shopping around?
Through the door, I heard Eric speak. “Find everything alright?”
Mila’s voice was too quiet for me to make out what she responded, but I was smiling nonetheless. I gave her another minute so I wouldn’t intrude, then I left the bathroom just as she finished paying. Her cheeks were flushed.
The second she left, I saw her get her phone out of her pocket, then felt my own buzz with a notification a moment later.
Mila :That t-shirt is criminal
I looked at Eric, who was wearing a faded blue t-shirt. Maybe it was a little tighter across the chest and arms, butcriminal? Istifled a laugh, heading behind the counter to take over at the register.
Me :What did you buy?
Mila :I don’t even know. I just grabbed something. Some chips. I was too distracted by how good his hand looked picking the bag up off the counter when he scanned it
Eric was none the wiser to this conversation, of course. He disappeared into the back office, taking the faint scent of his cologne with him.
Me :Think you got some momentum going?
Mila :I don’t know. I certainly got enough forearm porn to last me a little while, though
Me :Honestly, it feels like you’re thirsting over my uncle or something. But I am supportive
Mila :Good, bitch. You’re gonna be calling me step-aunt soon
Step-aunt Ludmila. It had a little ring to it, I supposed.
?????
The second day of lab started the same way as the first. Jacob explained the RSA3 and how we would load our samples into it to test the stress and strain values for each polymer. Quinn and I ended up taking the lead on this part, loading the samples we’d made on Tuesday into the analyzer and figuring out the computer software.
We had three of each type of polymer, so we could get a more representative average value. The RSA3 had three sort-of prongs, which we set our samples between, and then the top center prong pushed down on the polymer between the other two bottom prongs, measuring the amount of force required to deform it slightly. A three-point bend.
“Can you hand me the caliper?” Quinn asked Jackson, who stretched his arm out to hand it to her. She read off the thickness and width measurements of our current sample, which I wrote down, then she carefully put it into place on the analyzer machine.
I adjusted the pressure with the software on the computer, waiting for it to even out in our desired range, then started the data collection program. We had to do a strain sweep run for each type of polymer, then frequency tests on each of our three samples.
It was mostly knowing how to use the computer program, taking good notes, and ensuring we were correctly exporting our data to analyze later.
On Tuesday, Jacob had mentioned that Dr. Killshaw would probably spend more time with on this day of lab, but he hadn’t shown yet. I’d been playing that look he gave me on repeat in my mind, even as I tried not to. Just the memory of his slightly-narrowed his eyes, the tautness of his body, was making me sweat.
Nate was talking to the TA about our initial graphs while he set up an Excel file on his laptop when I heard another person enter the lab. I didn’t turn to look this time; I didn’t need to.
Micah Killshaw.
Though I knew I shouldn’t be thinking his first name in my head, I couldn’t quite stop now that I’d seen it printed right there on his helmet.
