Disclaimer: If you believe the rumors, there's a new season of "The Fairly Oddparents" in the works even as we speak. They better not screw this up.
"Sodium bisulfate!"
"Very good, Virginia", the teacher exclaimed. "Sodium bisulfate is the necessary element. Added to potassium…"
Virginia - a modestly beautiful brunette - and the other students in class paid attention as the teacher continued to speak. All but one.
A brown-haired young man sitting near the back of the room glared at Virginia. To him, it could've mattered less what the educator was saying.
"Mr. Turner! What element must not be added to this under any circumstances?"
His blue eyes widened to discs. He was a deer seconds away from being flattened on the back roads.
Everyone in the class turned toward him. He wasn't renowned for volunteering to answer questions…
And the teacher knew this. The man could see him squirm. He checked his watch.
"Oh. That's time."
The class turned back to face him. They gathered their belongings.
"Be sure to work on your assignments. We'll pick up from here tomorrow."
The young man sighed deeply. He got up from his chair.
The teacher pointed at him. "Mr. Turner? May I have a word with you?"
A deep groan. He stomped toward the front of the room, past the departing students. Virginia looked back at him, but the crowd of people forced her out the door.
The young man set his backpack beside the teacher's desk. He forced himself to look at the teacher.
"So, Mr. Turner…Tim. What happened just now?"
Tim said nothing. He glanced off to the side. This was clearly an embarrassing moment for him.
"Tim, you can tell me. We're adults here."
He took a breath. "I don't think it's fair to call on the unprepared."
"And I don't think it's fair to be unprepared. When a student fails a class, I don't blame myself. You know why?" No answer from the student. "Because I give them everything they need to succeed and it's up to them if they wish to use it."
Tim said nothing. He wouldn't admit it, but the man was right.
"I think we both know that you're not doing well in this class, but I'm going to help you. I give out extra-credit assignments to students in need." Tim's features perked up. "You have three weeks to turn in an eight-page paper about an experiment you've done - hypothesis, execution and conclusion. If you ace it, you could squeak by with a C-minus."
"I have no problem with that."
"But if you half-ass it even a little bit, you will fail this class. No exceptions. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Mr. Partridge."
"Great. See you tomorrow."
Tim picked up his backpack and walked toward the front door.
XxXxXxXxX
Followed by Virginia, Tim hurried down the corridor. Her footsteps squeaked on the tiled floor. He turned around. "That is really anno…" Virginia smiled nervously. "Oh, it's you."
A polite wave. "Hi, Tim."
"What do you want?"
"Mr. Partridge wanted to see you. Is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine, Miss stick-my-nose-into-everything."
She covered her nose, though it was cute as a button. "Tim, I want to help you, but I can't do that if you're pushing me away." His gaze shifted toward her chest. "Everybody needs help sometimes, even if they say they don't. Do you know what I mean?" He didn't answer. She followed the path of his eyes. "Tim?"
"What?"
"Were you staring at my boobs?!"
"No! No, no, no." He quickly looked away, though he could hardly be blamed; they were the only 'Ds' she ever knew. "Besides, I don't need your help, thank you." Tim walked away. Virginia could do little else than shake her head.
XxXxXxXxX
Tim sat a desk. He tossed a balled-up piece of paper toward a wastebasket. For extra shits and giggles, the basket was outfitted with a tiny basketball hoop.
"All right, so that's 14 ideas and none of them are any good." As if to reflect the young man's mood, the ball landed to the far left of the hoop.
"See, what I don't understand is why you don't just ask one of your classmates for help." Another young man lied on a bed. He was a modestly geeky sort with dark hair and glasses.
"Ralph, this isn't high school. College is about seeing if you can do things on your own; that you don't need someone holding your hand for every little thing." Tim launched another ball, but it bounced off the rim.
"Then how come you were all, 'Ralph, you gotta help me. I'm gonna fail chemistry if I don't get this project done. I need you.'?"
Tim simply stared at the young man. "I don't see your point."
"My point is that there's not shame in asking for help…as long as the person you're asking is capable in providing it. You said you need an 'A'. The best I've ever done in any chemistry class, in my entire life, is a 'B+'…and that was on a curve."
"So I'm stuck?"
"Unless you have a freakin' chemistry whiz in that class you can suck up to, yes."
Tim's mind immediately went to Virginia. He shuddered deeply. "No. I can do this."
"On your own." The skepticism in Ralph's voice was all too apparent.
"Hey, some great discoveries have happened because the people behind them didn't know what they were doing."
XxXxXxXxX
Tim surveyed the lab. Beakers and jars filled with chemicals. He soon figured that he could turn in a lab assignment. Now if only he could figure out what to do here.
Tim smacked his tongue. He couldn't believe how thirsty he was. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a can of… "Diet cola? Ughhhh!" Still, a guy in the desert wouldn't begrudge the lack of calories or sugar, so why should he? He popped the top and took a sip.
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a chemistry book. Several minutes went by as he looked through it. Tim slammed the book down.
"Of course." The young man stood up. "All I really need is some…" Looking quickly back at the book, Tim glanced at the page. "Tellurium astatine and…selenium silicate. Sounds simple enough." He put on a pair of safety goggles. Even though they were a bit cumbersome, he felt it was better to be momentarily uncomfortable than forever blind.
Tim placed an empty beaker on a burner and poured the two chemicals inside. Slowly, he turned the flame on. The orange fire heated the chemicals, which caused them to bubble.
He glanced back at the book. "'After a minute, turn the flame off, as you should have a nice brownish green color'." Tim obeyed the instruction.
Tim reached his hand up for the beaker. He involuntarily sniffed the air. It was a burning smell. He looked down at the burner, where trails of smoke danced around. He glanced up at the beaker and snatched his hand away.
Closets and drawers were opened all over the room. He glanced into a drawer. A pair of metal tongs. He grabbed them and walked back to his workspace.
He picked the beaker up and placed it on a metal coaster next to a sink.
Tim stared at the unknown compound. Without looking away from it, he grasped his can of diet soda and took a swig. He choked up a little, having consumed it too fast.
In his coughing fit, the young man failed to notice that a few drops flew into the beaker. Feeling that he would need his hands to help, Tim slammed the can on the table.
Another minute of coughing later, Tim took a deep breath. Everything was fine.
He stared down at the beaker. A small line of smoke emanated from it. A nervous look on his face, Tim turned back to the book, scanning it. "Man, please tell me it's supposed to be doing this."
The tiny line of smoke expanded into a small cloud, seemingly growing because of the oxygen it was currently being exposed to.
The cloud floated up at Tim, which caused him to sneeze. The smoke made its way into his nasal cavities, forcing another sneeze. In his haste, he knocked over the beaker. The shattering of the glass drew Tim's attention.
He looked down at what was once his project and kicked the table.
With one more sneeze, Tim stepped out of the room. Unbeknownst to him, the spot where the compound landed was clear. Excepting a few shards of glass, it's as if nothing spilled to the floor at all.
