The Physics of Love

Chapter 2

'Did you have a nice summer?' Miss White's squeaky voice reverberates throughout the classroom.

'Yes, Ms White,' we respond lazily.

'Great. Because this year I'm going to squeeze the life out of you, my little smurfs! Ha ha ha.'

I'm pretty sure this kind of addressing high school students could be a reason for our physics teacher, Ms White, to be invited to the principal's office or maybe even ringed by higher instances, but nobody seems to have a problem with it, so this year we continue to communicate in the same manner. However, by the law of action-reaction, Ms White earned herself an expected nickname; we call her Gargamel and her irritating assistant Mathew, what else if not Azrael. I'm wondering if she has nicknames for all of us individually. For example, Noah could be Hefty Smurf, Melissa could be Snappy Smurf, and I, of course, would be Brainy Smurf. As expected, Smurfette is not in this class.

'Miss Hughes!' I wake up from daydreaming. I always take a seat in the back so I can tune out from time to time without being noticed. 'Since you are by far my best student in this class, I sent your application for this year's Physics Games,' Ms White is blinking. That's what she does when she's terribly decisive and wants to hear no objection. 'No objection,' she adds, keeping her chin up.

Other students turn their heads to me. This is no news to anyone; they were borrowing my notes and asking me for help all last year. I never felt any envy though, only respect and admiration. I was never showing off my excellent grades and I was generally invisible, so that could've been the reason.

'O...okay Ms White.' I wasn't thinking about the idea of spending my free time on extra science work, but I'll need things like that to shine on my college application, so why not physics? Not that I love it, but it's something I'm good at and most people aren't.

'Mr. Anderson,' she looks at Ted who sits in the front, 'you're...the second best.' The whole class giggles. 'So I sent your application as well.'

Only lucid minds can think of saying things like this. The smarter you are the more you're apt to act appropriately, but after a certain point, intelligence makes you weird.

'Sure, Ms White,' Ted handles the situation stoically. I can't see his face from where I sit, but I'm sure his eyes are smiling.

'Okay then, we can start the lecture.' Ms White gets up, touching her glasses compulsively. It's a retro model from the 70s, the one that got back in fashion in the 90s, but she probably got hers in the 70s. Ms White is a well preserved fifty-year-old spinster with a slim figure and a lack of comprehension about how looks affect people. Her hair is as retro as her glasses and her face is makeup free. Is she a spinster because she looks like this or is she not aware of her appearance because nobody's around to tell her that? Am I looking at my future self?

This is the question I've been asking myself too often recently. Not that I'm late in the race to couple up at the age of fifteen or anything, but considering my less than amicable attitude and a slightly grumpy character, it's gonna take more than good will to get myself a marriage certificate.

But it's not something I should worry about right now. At least, my mom would say so... Ms White's voice is fading away and I tune out again.

*

The bell is ringing and I'm the first one to rush out of the classroom. Not exactly an impression that the best student in class should give off, but what can you do. Half of the students stay in to chat up Ms White and ask her about her holidays, like they really care. I always hated all kinds of familiarization with teachers, especially those that come with a purpose of getting benefits.

'Oh, really Ms White? That's awesome!' I hear a female voice as I'm getting out. Grr, that must be Nancy. What is she doing in physics class anyway?