See, the only reason I decided to take chemistry this year is because all of my junior friends raved about Mrs. Elrod and how easy she made it seem. Well, um... SHE MOVED. And now I have a chemical engineer that doesn't have a teaching degree. He's really nice and he tries extremely hard, but he's just.. not a teacher. When he tries to answer a question I have, I am pushed even further into this endless hole of confusion. Numbers and elements swirl around in my head, never finding the correct place on the paper. We're discussing different kinds of reactions right now. Here's what's called a synthesis reaction, or a reaction where two elements combine to form a new compound.
anna + chemistry -----> F
The only reason I'm passing that class with an A (yes, I'm a nerd -- sorry to disappoint) right now is because all the homework grades are participation. I don't know what I'm going to do when the next test rolls around. The last test didn't turn out so pretty. I made a 75... with a curve and two bonus points. *head/desk x 10*
Then there's the guy-girl thing...
So.
There's this guy (obviously..). He loves God and Lecrae and drives this old-but-not-too-old-just-perfect pickup truck. I'm good friends with his sister and his little brother and I have a continual joke-argument about this football play. He waves at me, says hi, and always seems to be around when I am. He's sat by me when their were plenty of open seats and when he looks at me, his eyes are always smiling like "I know something you don't know." But it hasn't gone further than that. Mainly because we're both shy.. or because he doesn't like me? I mean, when a guy likes a girl, doesn't he do something about it? Well, I guess he sort of has. And I didn't give him a clear answer. Or any answer.
He asks nicely, "Anyone sitting here?"
"No," I say, barely forcing the word out of my mouth.
We sit there in silence. He's probably thinking "She's not into me" and I'm just happy to be in his presence.
Another instance. Me and few friends from youth group are sitting around the table talking. I talk to Abbey and Courtney and Elliot, but I can't bring myself to talk to him. Because talking to him requires eye contact and eye contact means that feeling you get after you drop down the first hill on a roller coaster. And that feeling goes straight to my brain and jumbles up all the letters, words, and sentences in my head. So just don't look at him -- problem solved, right? Wrong. 'Cause then he thinks I don't like him.. and I really, really do.
I love his voice and that it reminds me of warm, maple syrup.
I love his wittiness.
I love how he wears the same pair of khaki shorts nearly every Sunday.
I love that his favorite Poptarts are the cinnamon ones, just like me.
I love the way he says my name.
I love how when we're together, I feel like we could do anything.
I love that he loves Jesus.
But he doesn't know that.
Because I'm failing chemistry -- both kinds.
