Chemical Reaction 1

Chapter 1

I still couldn't believe I got in. Even while walking to my first class, it still doesn't feel real. The molecular biology PhD program at Emory University has been my dream since I started undergrad, and it was honestly a miracle I got in considering I went to an extremely insignificant college somewhere in the boonies of rural Georgia.

But, alas! Here I am, on my way to my first class. I have everything organized to a T: syllabi printed out, assignment and test due dates penciled into my planner, laptop fully charged, my lab coat and goggles thrown over my shoulder on a hanger - can't look wrinkled on the first day, now.

As I arrive to the impressive building, I realize I am over 25 minutes early. The city of Atlanta is not as forgiving as the two lane highways I was used to, so the anxiety of being late had me up almost half an hour before my already early alarm.

I weave my way through the building until I find my lab, which, thankfully, is unlocked and has a few other students already inside. I select a seat one row from the front - a spot that says "I'm eager to learn", but won't label me as teachers pet.

Are people still worried about the "teachers pet" thing in graduate school? I wasn't about to be the bozo that found out, that was for sure.

My thoughts are interrupted as what I assume to be the lab instructor enters the room. The man drops a beat up leather satchel on the table in front of him, rifling haphazardly through the mess of papers inside.

Against my will, I feel a displeased look settle onto my face. Is the professor's class going to be as disorganized as that abyss of a bag? Are those other students' assignments in there, begging to be lost?

I instinctively pull my cheek in between my teeth. I don't "do" mess. Or disorganized. Or out of place. I look down at my own things: my planner open to the week, perfectly color coded and labeled, evenly set next to my open binder filled with sheet protectors, dividers, and highlighted syllabi. The dichotomy of it all.

More students begin to file in as it draws closer to the start of class. I have spent the last 4 minutes disdainfully watching the professor unload the contents of his bag on the table until he finally found what he was looking for: a damn dry erase marker.

You would think since it was the first thing he was going to use he would have it ready, on top of the bag, or in a pocket, even. I fear for my sanity as he begins to sprawl chicken scratch onto the board, but choose to try and give the man the benefit of the doubt as I connect the dots of his handwriting to read the name of the class.

"Good morning, everyone" the man starts, his greeting echoed by a few in the class, excluding myself. "Welcome to your lab for the semester. You will use this lab to study things you find interesting and possibly wish to pursue in the future." He clasps his hands in a finalizing clap and gives the class a tight smile.

He begins to call roll, but I don't notice. I'm frantically scanning the syllabus for any more guidance for the class than what the instructor has given, completely disoriented from the lack of structure.

When he gets to my name I miss it, making him call to me again:

"Any Bradshaw here? A uhhh," he stops to scan the paper, "Ellery Bradshaw?"

My head shoots up from papers at the sound of my full name.

"Oh! Me, here. I go by Ella, though" I feel blush coming to my cheeks as the class and instructor look at me, the latter's brown eyes lingering on me a bit longer than the others.

I force myself to hold his gaze, not sure of the intention behind it. Suddenly, he speaks:

"El-la. Like the letter, but not. I'll make a note of it." And with that he makes a scribble next to what I assume is my name on the attendance sheet.

Weird ass thing to say if you ask me. The letter, but not. Who says that? I'm not sure if it bothers me more that that's a weird thing to say, or that he made a point of remarking about my name in particular. Either way, I find myself growing increasingly sour as more of his quirks are revealed.

The professor finishes roll, subsequently crumpling up the attendance paper and dropping it in the trash can next to the table he's standing at. My eyes grow wide. Does he not keep track of who's here? Is he just going to remember all our names? Does he not have more students? What if-

My thoughts are cut short when he claps his hands again, the clasp of them dropped down to the table.

"Now I know your names. My name is Julian Lainey, you can call me Lainey or Professor Lainey, and I will see you all on Wednesday."

The people around me break out into appreciative chatter as I remain in my seat, slightly dumbfounded. This is one of the best molecular bio programs in the nation and my very first lab instructor dismisses us after just calling roll.

---

Chapter 2

I let the majority of the students filter out as I slowly put my things back in my bag. I pick up my lab coat from where it's hung on the back of my chair, my cheeks burning with the thought that I ironed it for nothing.

I stand awkwardly at my table for a moment, debating whether or not to approach the teacher that I have already begun to dislike. Unfortunately, he notices my hesitation and speaks to me first,

"Did you have a question for me?" He asks innocently, like I haven't been boring holes into him since he first walked in the door.

"Um," I pause, cursing myself for starting my sentence with that godforsaken 'um' as I approach his table. "Yes, actually. I was wondering if there was anything I needed to do to prepare for next lab? I just don't want to come unprepared..." I trail off a bit as his gaze intensifies.

I am suddenly aware of the way he is standing - the way he looks all together, actually. Hands spread on the table in front of him, far past shoulder width. He's leaning on this hands, causing the veins on his forearms and hands to bulge slightly, exposed by the rolled up sleeves of his light blue button-down shirt. He has his head tilted down a bit to look at me over clear rimmed glasses, his longer-than-average brown hair falling toward the front, framing his face and those.. brown eyes.

The moment only lasts a beat, but for a second I forget that I genuinely do not like this man as a teacher. Seeing him so close, leaning toward me as I speak, being in close enough vicinity to see a few gray hairs in his neatly trimmed beard, no doubt from a career in science - it feels more intimate than I was expecting of the interaction.

He licks his lips lightly before speaking, distracting me from the first few syllables of his sentence.

"Bradshaw, was it? Miss El-la" he makes a point of pronouncing the first sound followed by the second. "I think based on your excessive preparation for a roll call, which, you still missed your name for, by the way, you will be just fine on Wednesday"

I'm actually stunned. All attraction I felt for that half a millisecond before he opened that mouth of his melts from my memory, replaced with the burn of agitation that was there before.

Very annoyed, more embarrassed, I pull my lab coat closer to my chest and force my face to remain neutral, even as I feel the heat burning up my neck. I give him a curt "thank you" before lifting my chin and turning to leave.

"Oh, and Miss Bradshaw?" He calls after me when I only manage to retreat a few steps, causing me to turn my head back toward him. "Do you mind coming in a bit early on Wednesday? To help me set up the lab equipment?" I can feel his condescension from my place ten feet away.

I swallow the scoff I desperately want to release, knowing that getting on this professor's bad side will do me no favors. Reluctantly, I push myself to remain calm.

"Surely. I wouldn't mind a bit" I barely grit out as he lets out a smug breath at my southern accent.

He's about to see just how helpful I can be.

--

Chapter 3

Wednesday arrives much too soon. I thought about that nasty look on Professor Lainey's face throughout the rest of my Monday classes. None of which seem to be an issue like that damn lab. Tuesday flew past considering my classes were online, like the universe knew I was dreading Wednesday and wanted to spite me by making it come sooner.

I wake up especially early on Wednesday morning, raw irritation rousing me from sleep. I get all of my things together just like on Monday and take a look in the floor length mirror in the entry way of my apartment.

I inspect my appearance for a moment. An embroidered peasant blouse paired with some khaki chinos my mom got for sale at the Old Navy, my little white tennis shoes double knotted, and half my hair pulled back in a random clip. I feel a pang of anxiety for a moment, wondering what Professor Lainey is going to think of my outfit. Not in the way that he finds me attractive or sexy, but in the way that he speaks to me like I have half a brain cell and part of me feels corny for dressing up for a lab class.

I scrunch my eyebrows after a second of thought, wondering why I should give a single flying fuck what that man thinks about me or my clothes. I adjust my bag on my shoulder and prepare to face the beast.

I arrive at the lab class to find Lainey leaned up against the wall outside the class.

"You're a bit late." he remarks, pushing off the wall and turning swiftly into the room.

I take a few quick steps to catch up with him.

"You didn't actually give me a time..." My pace changes as I turn into the classroom and come face to face with Lainey, whom I didn't know was standing right inside the door. The man towers over me, but not by much, my eyes reaching about to his throat. He doesn't step back from our proximity, and in fear of exhibiting submissiveness, I don't either.

Awkwardly, I stand in front of him. My lab coat draped over my left forearm while my right hand holds my bag's strap to my shoulder. I keep my eyes forward, directly in line with where his neck meets his chest, two unbuttoned buttons revealing the skin there as I watch it flare red. The short moment passes as he takes my coat and bag from my hands, laying them on the nearest table and, finally, turning away from me.

I release a nervous breath I didn't realize I was holding as he begins to speak:

"So, just as a fun intro, we're going to look at some bacteria under a microscope. We need to give every lab table a microscope, slides, and each station will get a couple pipettes with different bacteria in them. Got it?"

He turns to look at me when we arrive at the door to the supply closet that he just unlocked. To my surprise, the task is actually quite straightforward. Based on our previous interaction I expected him to send me on some wild goose chase for his own entertainment.

"Got it." I respond, passing him into the supply closet as he holds the door open.

"Now this closet door is going to shut behind you every time, it's annoying, but we're not allowed to prop it open, so you'll have to open it every time you want in or out." He remains at the door, holding it open while he tells me what I'm now realizing is the annoying catch of the job.

I'm not entirely sure why I couldn't prop the door open for all of 8 minutes it's going to take me to set this stuff out, but considering he intentionally is doing it this way to bother me, I decide arguing would be fruitless.

"That's fine, I guess." Just because I'm not arguing doesn't mean I have to pretend to be happy about it.

Suddenly, he moves away from the door and into the closet. Just like he said, the door quickly shuts behind him with a click. I instinctively take a step back, wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into as he moves further into the closet - further toward me - until we're close enough to hear each other breathing. Casually, he speaks:

"Microscopes are here," he bends down to a cabinet to the right of my legs. He goes to open the cabinet, realizing I'm slightly in the way, and places a confident hand on my knee to move my leg slightly. The contact only lasts the second it takes to move my leg, but it's enough to further fuel the conflict between my head and my body.

"Slides," he opens a drawer next to his head, not moving from his spot kneeled beside me "here. Got it?" he says again.

"Got it." I parrot. I take one final second to soak in our position. Me over him while he practically kneels before me, hands on the tops of his thighs, looking up at me expectantly. There's nothing inherently sexual about it, and maybe this was me being some weird dominatrix or some bullshit, but having the power dynamic change so innocently - him down in front of me, waiting for an answer - it was jarring, to say the least.

I manage to get all the supplies out in a timely manner, despite the annoying door hindrance, and Lainey fills all the pipettes with the bacteria, laying them next to the stations I set up.

After we were done, I move my things that Lainey discarded on the table to my regular spot and wait for the class to fill up. As I sit, I realize it was getting alarmingly close to the start time and there is still no students. At about 5 til, I get up from my seat to go inspect the hallway to see if there were any stragglers waiting until the last minute to come in. There are none.

As I turn to come back into the classroom, I notice that Lainey has looked up from the book he's reading, just barely looking over the rim of his glasses, waiting to gauge my reaction.

"No one's coming, are they?" I ask, pretty much defeated at this point, knowing how well he tricked me.

"No, they are not, Miss Bradshaw. I cancelled class half an hour ago." He says as he returns his eyes to his book, oozing nonchalance.

I sigh, not even finding the cause worthy to get upset over. I trudge back to my table, putting my things in my back pack, even my lab coat, folding it and stuffing it in, not caring about the creases any longer.

"You don't like me very much do you, Miss Bradshaw?" I look at him as he speaks, he had put his book on the table and set his folded glasses next to it, getting up from his chair to walk towards my table.

"What gave it away?" I ask sarcastically, throwing my earlier resolution to stay on his good side out the window.

"I noticed you when I first walked in. You seemed disappointed in the way I ran the first class. Always making faces when I would do something, you thought I wouldn't notice" he says smoothly.

I actually didn't think about whether he would notice or not. I didn't think he was paying any more attention to me than any other student. Obviously, I was wrong.

"That still doesn't explain why you did... whatever this is" I say, flailing my arms around the room in reference to the entire lab I set up.

He smiles that tight, polite smile he uses too often.

"I feel like you're used to things going your way. I just wanted to see how you would react if it didn't. This is the lab, you're the experiment."

I finally release the scoff that's been boiling since yesterday. I put my things back down on the table and cross my arms defensively.

"I will have you know," I begin, unfortunately sounding very southern, knowing he will take me less seriously because of it, but continue regardless, "That not everything goes my way. Nothing has ever gone my way. I do things like this because school is the only thing that goes my way. This is where I have complete control." I huff as I become more upset, not knowing why I'm being so emotional, or why I'm telling this perfect stranger such personal things about myself.

"Also, as a scientist, you should know it is illegal to trick people into experiments of any kind. Thank you very much." I dramatically snatch up my things and stomp toward the door. I can almost feel steam coming from my ears when he calls after me:

"See you on Friday, Miss Bradshaw!"

--

Chapter 4

I decide to skip my classes for the rest of the day. I'm not notoriously a skipper, but after the stunt Lainey pulled, I just need to go home and lie down.

Why me? What was it about me? Did he do this to several students? Maybe it's the seat I picked, he does this to the person that sits in that seat every semester? Either way, I had already showed my ass today, unfortunately, and I don't plan on letting it happen again.

I decided that, on Friday, I will be completely zen. I won't even acknowledge his presence unless absolutely unavoidable. Even if it would get me on his bad side, he was on my bad side now.

•

Come Friday, I wake up later than usual. I let myself slide out of bed and I lazily get ready. I leave my apartment without even a sideways glance at the floor length mirror in the entry. I arrive to lab exactly 6 minutes late to a shut door. Caution to the wind, I open the door and walk right in, all eyes in the class shooting towards me. All except Professor Lainey, almost as if he were expecting this from me.

"Thank you for finally joining us, Miss Bradshaw." He drawls, never taking his eyes from his words on the board.

"You're welcome." I retort, rudely. This, unlike my dramatic entrance, gets his attention. He caps his marker and drops his head, a slight laugh shaking his body.

A laugh. He's laughing. I'm practically fuming. Everything I do he seems to predict. I'm still an experiment and I'm continuing to prove his hypothesis. He turns from the board finally and locks eyes with me. His laughter stops and he's left with a quizzical look on his face as he takes me in.

Having this moment in front of the rest of the class sends a wave of self consciousness over me. I suddenly get the urge to drop my gaze, but my pride takes the wheel. Do I look different today? Did I actually manage to do something to catch him off guard? I don't have another second to ponder before he clears his throat and continues with the lesson.

At the end of class, I stay behind a moment to finish copying down the notes from the beginning of the lecture. Surprisingly, Lainey begins his instruction quite punctually, meaning I lost a full 6 minutes of notes. I stick to my decision to ignore him, even as he sits and watches me from his table at the front.

I finish my notes and begin to pack up.

"Do you want to help me with an actual experiment this time?" he asks, feigning innocence, as if he didn't trick me into helping him the other day.

However, against my better judgement, I agree. The possibility that I could actually learn something intrigues me more than the opposite scares me. He waits as I pack up my things and I follow him out of the lab to, you guessed it, another lab. Here, what looks like gel electrophoresis has been set up.

"So," he begins, "I have this all set up, but," he sits down at a lab table and pulls a stool up next to him, beckoning me to sit as he speaks, "I can't seem to get the DNA into the pockets. I'm actually color blind, so it's really hard for me to see where I need to put it through the blue liquid." he says.

He keeps his eyes on his project while I look at the side of his face, completely, and utterly taken aback by his behavior. This vulnerability is new, he's never even shown a glimpse of this in the three long days that I've interacted with him him. But, here I am, practically shoulder to shoulder with him as he explains why he needs my help.

Timid from shock, I utter out an "ok" as he hands me the loaded pipette.

"Now, you know what to do right? Put the DNA into the pocket, then the dye on top?" he asks, no hint of sarcasm to his tone.

I simply nod, focusing on the tiny slit the comb made in the gel, careful to get the entire sample into the pocket.

I can feel Lainey next to me. I can see him out of the corner of my eye, watching me as I work. His mouth hangs open as he watches me work, focusing intently to be sure I don't ruin his sample. The proximity is making me hot, I feel myself burning up under the Emory sweatshirt I threw on this morning, the navy blue material trapping all heat to my body.