A Chemical Moment

Author's note:

Thanks for your support for my last two stories.

This one is in the same vein, longer on story and character, so if you're looking for a quick fix, this might not be it.

Please remember to vote if you like it, and even if you don't.

~~~

I've always been fascinated by that moment, the transition when one thing becomes something else. The moment the magic happens.

Take baking soda. You know what happens when you mix it with vinegar, or any other acid - you wind up with water, a salt like sodium acetate, carbon dioxide bubbling out, and a little heat. We've known that for centuries, and we've been using it in cooking and industry for almost as long. But that's just the before and the after. What's really happening in the moment, in the intricate dance of atoms and electrons? Until a few decades ago, we didn't have any idea, and we still don't know some of the details. That's what I study, what I've made a career out of - finding out what's really going on in chemical reactions, at the level of individual atoms, using computer simulations and femtosecond laser pulses and all sorts of neat tricks.

There are all kinds of other moments like that happening around us all the time, on various time scales. Carbon-14 decaying into Nitrogen; a stem cell differentiating into a neuron; a seed germinating; a tectonic fault shearing under stress; sperm fertilizing an egg. Those are almost as fascinating, but I need to focus, so I focus on chemistry.

Life is really just a series of moments, too, if you think about it. We spend a lot of time just being, going with the flow, but most of the stuff that really matters happens in those brief moments: ideas and decisions; meeting someone new; moving away from home; losing family and friends; falling in love. Those I don't understand at all. I just try to recognize them when they happen, and to be grateful for the good ones.

The fascination started early - when I was three or four, I'd stare at a pot of boiling water, much to my mother's horror, or get yelled at for opening the freezer door way too often to peek at ice cubes freezing in the tray. How does a liquid turn solid, or vanish into the air? I would ask my parents, but neither of them had much interest in science, so they couldn't really help after I was about five. My dad could and did teach me everything there was to know about cars, but that's all practical. Theoretical chemistry and physics were outside his skill set. They did take me to the Museum of Science, right on the Charles River, which was about my favorite place in the world. I probably bored them to tears, but they indulged me, even when my little brother cried in his stroller. They bought me a chemistry set for Christmas when I was nine, and I was hooked.

So my trajectory was set, at least through college. I studied hard in school, got good grades and did very well on the SAT. I had a credible application to Harvard or MIT, which would have been amazing, but when I considered everything, including cost, UMass Amherst seemed like the best place for me to go. The academics were very good, and with in-state tuition and a few minor scholarships, I would be able to get out without mind-boggling student loans. I've always believed the most important thing in a college education is the effort you put into it yourself. Plus, it was about the right distance from home - not quite two hours when the roads are clear. Far enough to get away and be independent, but close enough to visit when I needed to.

My first year was great, academically, apart from the dreaded freshman English that everybody has to take. I squeaked through with a pair of C's, the worst grades of my life. The highlight, of course, was Honors Chemistry. In the lab section, they gave each student a different recipe, using some known reagents and a few mystery ingredients. We had three weeks to follow the recipe, and then nine weeks to analyze the result to determine what we had made. It was the coolest possible way to teach a class of motivated chemistry geeks.

Socially, though, things were not so good. I was always kind of awkward, and being away from my family for the first time was terribly lonely. I made friends fairly easily - mostly nerdy guys - but few of them were close. I had a couple of crushes in high school, but I was painfully shy, and I was always insecure about my looks, with my wispy blonde hair, glasses, skinny body and small boobs. So my crushes stayed crushes, admired from afar, and the boys never knew. Looking back, I probably could have had something more if I just asked. I suspect they were as scared of me as I was of them.

College was the same as high school - I knew everybody in the dorm by name, and all they knew me, but I went to class alone and usually ate alone. I did play board games with a group of guys on Tuesday nights, mostly CS majors, and I watched the late comedy shows with the regular crowd in the lounge most nights.

I had two roommates my freshman year, and we were cordial, but I didn't really connect with either one. Jamie was an English major with a swimsuit model body, gorgeous and outgoing and funny in all the ways I was not. She seemed a lot more interested in her social life than her schoolwork, and spent most of her time with boys. That made for a lot of quiet study time for me, but some social interaction would have been nice. She moved in with her friend Alice after a semester. My second roommate was Ellie, who was majoring in history or political science or something. She was bouncy and perky and friendly with everyone. She was around a little more, and sometimes I had lunch with her and some other people from the dorm on the weekends, but she disappeared after freshman year. I think she left school; I don't really know for sure.

I would have been happy to find friends among my fellow chemistry majors, or other science students, but during that first year, I don't think there was a single student with whom I shared more than one class.

~~~

I went back to school my sophomore year after a summer of drudgery at a retail job, excited about my classes but with low social expectations. I was playing the roommate lottery yet again, and all I had was a name: Anne Griffin. It sounded vaguely familiar, like somebody from one of my classes, but I couldn't remember her, and since I went to college before everyone lived their lives entirely online, I couldn't look her up.

My mood improved considerably when I walked into the room and saw her. I remembered her from calculus - we were both quiet little mice sitting in the back row - and I knew we were going to get along. She was pretty, with dark eyes, dark hair and a warm smile. Jamie and Ellie were both obvious, in different ways, instantly capturing the attention of any nearby male. Anne was subtle and elegant. I think she looked the way I wanted to look when I grew up.

I got her attention by setting my crate full of books on the floor, and then introduced myself. "Hi. I'm Allison Kendall."

She replied with a smile. "I know. You were the smartest girl in calculus class, even though you almost never opened your mouth."

That was weird - I'm used to being the one who notices everyone else, not the one being noticed. But she seemed nice, and I was glad to have a roommate with whom I might have something in common. Most of the freshmen in calculus class are at least science or engineering majors.

We got to know each other a bit that first afternoon, and found out we did indeed have much in common. She was a biology major, bound for med school. She knew what she wanted to do with her life from an early age, just like me, and her parents were bewildered but happy and supportive. She was also a little a lonely and isolated, like me, although she wasn't so painfully shy. None of her high school friends had come here for college, and her two close friends from last year had both dropped out.

When we compared schedules, we found we were in the same organic chemistry and vector calculus classes. Anne was thrilled - OChem is probably the single most dangerous passage in a med student's educational journey, and she was more than a little scared of it. Chemistry was a means to an end for her, not a passion, but she was genuinely interested and she wanted to do well. Being able to study with me was a lifeline, and made her feel much better about the rest of her semester.

We went for dinner together that evening, and Anne got a serious look on her face when we sat down. After hesitating nervously, screwing up her courage, she said, "Allison, I have to tell you something."

That didn't sound good. Not knowing what was coming next, I just said, "Okay."

I could see the stress in her face and her body, and I could hear it in her voice as she spoke. "At the end of last year, I got into a huge fight with my old roommate Dana. We were pretty good friends for most of the year, so I was really surprised and upset when she freaked out at me."

She took a breath and continued. "A week before finals, I was hanging out with a friend around campus, and I kissed her. It was just a kiss, but it was a serious kiss, and we were in public. It got back to Dana somehow, and she called me a slut and a dyke and said it made her sick to sleep or change clothes in the same room with me. So I avoided her for the last few weeks of school, and slept on a friend's couch.

I'm sorry to drop a bomb on you like that the after we've basically just met, but you deserve to know, and to have a chance to request a new roommate if it's going to be a problem. Neither one of us needs a surprise drama like I had last year. You don't have to decide right now, but you should tell the RA soon if you need to. I won't blame you if you do."

My face felt hot, so I'm sure I was blushing, and I just blurted out the first thing to come into my head. "So you're a lesbian?"

I knew I had said the wrong thing before I even finished saying it. I could tell by the look on her face I had upset her. But she had started the conversation, and she looked determined to finish it, even as she got more flustered. "I don't know. It was just a kiss! I think I want a boyfriend, and a husband someday. But I like girls. I can't help it. I'm not even twenty yet, and I'm still figuring stuff out."

She looked like she was about to cry, and I knew I had to calm her down. "It's okay with me whatever you are. I was just surprised, that's all. I've never met a lesbian before, at least not that I know of. But my cousin Paul is gay, and he's the sweetest guy in the world. So we won't have any problems if you figure out you're gay. Or not. I already have a lot more in common with you than either of my previous roommates, and we're going to get along together just fine."

I smiled at her, as warmly and encouragingly as I could, and a wave of relief flooded into her face. "Oh thank you, Allison. After getting blindsided like that, I was really nervous about getting a new roommate. Thank you for being so understanding."

I replied with a mischievous smile, "Don't thank me yet. We still have to survive OChem."

~~~

Living with Anne was a big adjustment. It was mostly great, but it took some getting used to because we spent so much time together.

Our morning classes started at the same time in the same part of campus four days a week, including OChem on Tuesday and Thursday, so we got up and moving at the same time, and walked to class together. We also had overlapping holes in our class schedule on Monday and Wednesday afternoons, which Anne spent at the fitness center. She didn't much like working out, but she did it religiously, and she shamed me into going with her. With a lot of research, she had designed a workout for maximum gain in minimal time. It was really tough, but it definitely got results.

We met for lunch after morning classes every day except Wednesday, and we usually had dinner together whenever one of us didn't have something else going on (which for me wasn't very often). My food budget was pretty limited, so I tried to cook in the dorm kitchen whenever I had time. Anne also cooked when she could, mostly so she could eat a healthier diet than the stuff available on campus. A lot of it also tasted better, and my cooking improved just by being around her.

We had both gotten through the freshman weed-out classes, so school got more interesting. It also got harder, and we had to spend a lot of time studying to keep on top of it. It could be a grind sometimes, when a bunch of assignments were all due the same week, but it was much more satisfying than my summer job. When I went to bed tired, I felt like I had accomplished something useful, not just stocking shelves for minimum wage plus fifty cents.

Life was better socially as well. Once you're through the intro classes, it's a lot easier to find other people who share your major and your interests. OChem is a great bonding experience, for those who survive, and eight students from our section formed a study and discussion group that held together until graduation. I continued to play Tuesday night board games with the CS guys, and Anne often joined us. She didn't really like the sprawling strategy games that the guys sometimes played, but she loved most of the smaller, faster games, and she was wickedly competitive.

Mostly, though, Anne and I did things together, just the two of us. We walked around town when the weather was hospitable (i.e. not actively raining or snowing at that moment), and we found a lot of interesting (and free) cultural events to go to - one of the great things about living in a college town. Anne also dragged me out shopping, which to me meant looking at clothes that I would never buy. Anne had a reasonable clothes budget, and she made sure to get the best out of it. I went along for company, and endured her teasing about my static, boring wardrobe.

~~~

All that togetherness made one thing particularly difficult for me - getting dressed. Around twelve or thirteen, all the girls in school started to develop, and I didn't. I was already on the young side for my year in school, and physically I was a late bloomer. I got really sensitive about my body, especially my small boobs, and I dreaded showering and changing in the locker room after PE and track at school. I managed by going home sweaty after practice when I could, and by finding a locker in a secluded corner and showering after most of the other girls were done when I had to.

Sharing a room freshman year wasn't a big deal - Jamie often spent her nights elsewhere, and was never around during the day. Ellie was around a little more, but our morning schedules were usually different, and I took my clothes to the bathroom with me when she was in the room.

But with Anne, we were pretty much always showering and getting dressed at the same time, twice a day when we worked out together. And Anne wasn't sensitive about her body at all. She'd come back from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, unwrap herself to dry her hair, and get dressed. She'd sometimes even have a conversation with me stark naked while looking for something to wear. It wasn't immodest; it just wasn't a thing for her. I think maybe doctors are a little different from the rest of us - they spend so much time around bodies that the mystery disappears. Anne wasn't a doctor yet, or even a med student, but she had already started to think like one.

So I spent a lot of time, spread out over days and weeks, looking at Anne's naked body. I didn't go out of my way to look, but after the first week or so I didn't go out of my way to avert my eyes either. And I really admired what I saw. Anne was compact - four or five inches shorter than me, so maybe five five - and fairly thin. There was nothing exaggerated about her figure, except maybe her narrow waist; she just looked exactly the way a beautiful woman is supposed to look. A statue come to life. She was a perfect hourglass, with nicely rounded hips tapering to powerful, smooth legs. Her breasts were round and full, the focus of much of my jealousy. And thanks to that workout program of hers, she was fit and even muscular, but her skin was soft and smooth, and a uniformly deep, healthy tan. Coffee with lots of milk. I also noticed that she shaved most of her black pubic hair, leaving just a little strip. It looked really neat and tidy compared to my fuzzy light brown bush; I thought maybe I should do the same.

That left me with a problem - I was still sensitive about changing in front of anyone, even Anne. After a very awkward week and a half of getting dressed in the bathroom every morning, which was not at all comfortable, I decided I was being silly and it was time to get over myself. So on Wednesday afternoon after working out, we both showered, like we had before, but this time, I just went back to the room in my towel. And when we got back to the room, I said, "Look, I know what you said about Dana and all, so I don't want to offend you, but I'm pretty insecure about my body. Just so you know why I'm being weird about changing in front of you."

And then I took off my towel, dried my hair and got dressed. It felt really strange, but not bad. Anne didn't say anything at all, and I was grateful for that. After a few days, it didn't seem like such a big deal, and I started to wonder why I had fussed so much in the first place.

With Anne's workout program, my body image even improved a little. One afternoon in early October, I caught my reflection the mirror, wearing just my underwear, and I wondered what had happened. I was still skinny, and my boobs too small, but I looked more like the popular, athletic girls I had so envied in high school than my old self.

~~~

One night over a spaghetti dinner we cooked together in the dorm kitchen, the subject of romance came up again, as it had often before. By now, I knew about most of the targets of Anne's affections, male and female (mostly female), and what she had done or not done about each one. Anne knew about my crushes, both in high school and here, and how that was all they ever were. Usually, she teased me a little about my timidity and left me alone.

This time, though, Anne didn't let me evade the way I normally did. She asked me point blank, "What is your deal?"

I didn't know what to say. I know she meant well, but I felt like she was picking on me. I answered sheepishly, looking down at the table. "Well, none of the guys I liked have ever been interested in me, or even noticed me."

Anne got an exasperated look on her face, and I felt even more picked on. "They don't notice you because you go out of your way not to be noticed. Have you ever once gone up and talked to a guy you liked?"

I tried to defend myself by saying, "I talk to guys all the time ...," hoping Anne would leave me alone.

"Yeah, about chemistry or board games or other mundane stuff. Never about anything even approaching personal."

Now I was hurt, and even a little mad. "I'm sure it's easy for you. You're so pretty that everybody pays attention to you. I see the looks you get. But nobody looks at me like that; nobody looks at me much at all. Can we talk about something else?"

"I'm serious, Allison. I know how shy you are, and it can be really hard, but your life will be much better if you can find the courage to actually talk to a guy once in a while."

As uncomfortable as the conversation was making me, I had to admit Anne had a point. "Fine. You're right. I know you're right. That doesn't make it any easier."

Anne relented a bit, satisfied that she was getting through. "Just promise me you'll make an effort, okay?"

"Okay."

I thought we were done, but a few minutes later, Anne started in again. "You really need to stop fussing so much about your looks. Any guy worth knowing should be concerned with a lot more than just how you look. You're crazy smart, you're funny, and you're the sweetest person in the world. What guy wouldn't want that?"