BLUNT. | Liam Dunbar

Dry Ice Day - Chapter Three

A N N I E

The seating chart at the front of the room notifies me that I am supposed to sit next to a girl named Sarah. She smiles at me as I sit down, "Hi, I'm Sarah."

I smile back, trying to forget the fact that five minutes ago I was bawling into Scott and Stiles's shoulders... "Hi, I'm Annie."

She nod: to me as I sit down, looking down at my phone as it vibrates.

SCOTT: See you tonight. Taco Tuesday, sista. Love you!

I huff, tucking my phone back into the waist of my skirt, and grabbing a pencil out of my case. I chew on the end as Sarah stares over at me. After another minute of relentless staring, I look over at her.

She shakes her head apologetically. "I'm sorry," she laughs at herself, "I just do the same thing with my pencil... It's a Puerto Rican thing."

I smile, removing the end of my pencil from my mouth, looking at the teeth indentions. "Puerto Rican?" I nod, "Explains your gorgeously tan skin during the period where the sun barely ever peeks out from behind the clouds."

Sarah laughs, "Finally someone that will actually talk to me!" she shakes her head, "Being the new girl sucks."

I look down at my books, "Trust me, I can relate. I was the new girl here once, too. Now look at me, I can't think of this place as anything but home." I smile, "How long have you been in town?"

Sarah sighs, "Two days. Today's technically the first full day I'll be here. My parents have the ever-crushing fear that if I miss more than a week of school, I'll become stupid, or something."

I nod, "My mom was the same way. If my sister missed a lot of school, there was no outside life."

"Alright, class, let's settle into our seats for the day." Mr. Perish writes something on the board. As he steps back, he reveals a large picture of the classroom, each one of the tables labeled as a different assessment. "Today, for our first day back, we'll be doing group labs. Group as in, our resident experts — Frank, Harrison, George, and Annie — will stay at each table as the rest of you make your way around the room, learning new things and new ideas," he smiles out at us. "The timer starts now..."

We all watch as Mr. Perish pushes down the timer. As soon as he does, I walk to the front of the room, grabbing the materials I need to conduct the experiment. My table is assigned to make dry ice. I grab a container of hydrogen fluoride, phosphoric acid, and carbon dioxide contained matter.

Sarah looks at me in amazement as I set out the beakers and began to mix the formula. "How—" she begins.

"Dry ice is basically carbon dioxide in its solid form. The hydrogen fluoride and phosphoric acid are just the cooling agents." I interrupt her, pouring a very small amount of phosphoric acid in first, "One wrong move could cause a lethal chemical reaction."

Sarah gulps hard, "Lethal? Lethal as in death? Like a bomb death?"

I chuckle, pouring in five millimeters of hydrogen fluoride into the beaker and swooshing it around. "Not a bomb, but a dangerous chemical release. It'll basically give off dangerous toxins that if over-inhaled, could fry the brain's nerves and kill you."

Sarah nods, "And you're smiling... Not creepy at all."

The buzzer goes off and I smile at the dry ice misting off its coolness into the air, creating a small funnel of white. Sarah shakes her head, "Is that supposed to be happening?"

I smile, "That, my friend, is dry ice."

"Class," Mr. Perish clears his throat at the front of the room. "You have five minutes to clean your station and grab your new supplies. If you aren't a resident expert, move to the nearest table to your right to conduct a new experiment. Go, now."

I stand up and walk to the front of the room, smiling at Mr. Perish as I sit my dirty supplies down and pick up new ones. I walk back to my lab table, setting down my supplies, and straightening my safety goggles, pushing my hair behind my ears and out of my face. I look up at my partner — a face I don't recognize.

"Hi," he smirks at me, "I'm Liam."

He sticks out his hand, hovering it in the air in front of me. I smile annoyingly, just another tool to put on my list. I grab his hand, shaking it up and down. "Annie," I introduce myself.

"I know — or — Hi..." He stutters out, laughing a bit.

I nod my head, leaning forward and showing him the guide to the experiment. "Rule one," I smile, "don't do anything unless that sheet or I say to. Rule two," I push his safety goggles from the top of his head to the crook of his nose, that way they are actually covering his eyes, "follow all the safety rules. And... Rule three," I slide the sheet across the desk, "don't kill us."

Liam exhales, shaking his head and turning back to the beakers. I stare at him for a moment, his jawline is well built and his blue eyes feel like they are consuming me whole, but I look away. Nothing matters if his personality isn't as good as his looks...

I inhale, "So, our assignment is to create dry ice. Dry ice is basically carbon dioxide in its solid form. The hydrogen fluoride and phosphoric acid are just the cooling agents."

Liam nods, picking up the small bottle of contained carbon dioxide. I shake my head at him before he pours the wrong element into the beaker.

"You start with phosphoric acid," I pick up the tube and pour a small bit into the container.

Liam nods, "Okay."

I hand him the bottle of hydrogen fluoride, "Five milligrams. Don't overdue it."

Liam huffs in confidence, pouring five milligrams into the beaker. I, then, hand him the confined carbon dioxide and the small eye dropper. "If you apply more than three drops, our entire experiment will be ruined... but no pressure," I tease playfully.

I fill the entire eyedropper up with the liquid, then hand to Liam. He leans over the beaker carefully, slowly dropping one tiny bead of liquid into our formula.

That's when I lean over and squeeze his fingers, pressing out the entirety of the eye dropper's continents, and watch as the bubbles began to implode.