Imperfect Chemistry

by Mary Frame

After the prank, we all head back inside and share the video with the rest of the family. After that, there’s more talking, dessert and coffee. Only when the kids have all passed out on the living room floor and wherever they could cram on couches, do people start to leave.

  I hug all of my brothers good-bye. Ken is still a little upset about the whole car thing, but he seems to be getting to the point where he can laugh at himself, too.

  After saying goodbye to a multitude of relatives and getting ready for bed, I’m upstairs reading when Mom comes in to say good night.

  “Did you have a nice time, honey?”

  “Yes.” I put the book face down on my lap. “It was good.”

  “How about Jensen?”

  I frown. “I think so.”

  She nods. “You might want to check the usual places in his room before he goes to bed. He doesn’t know how sneaky your brothers can be.”

  “I think he’s getting the idea.”

  “Plus, it gets colder in the den since it’s over the garage. You should bring him some extra blankets in case he gets cold.” She walks in the room and sets a folded blanket down at the foot of my bed.

  “Okay,” I say. Is my mother encouraging me to go see Jensen by myself in a room with a bed at night? What is this world coming to?

  She leaves with a smile and a good night and I sit there for a second, dumbfounded. They must really like him. I should probably disabuse her of the notion that we’re together, because that’s obviously what she’s thinking.

  I get out of bed and grab the blanket and head down the hall to the den.

  The door is slightly ajar, and there’s a light on. I knock gently before opening the door.

  He’s sitting on the side of the bed, looking down at something in his hands.

  “Hey,” he says, smiling at me. He’s back in his flannel pajama pants and the soft gray shirt from last night.

  “I brought you an extra blanket,” I say. I don’t want to lurk in the doorway, so I walk in and sit next to him on the bed, setting the blanket next to me. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking at postcards. I found them in the bottom of my bag where I’ve been throwing them and trying to forget they exist. Liam has been sending them to me since he left.” He hands me the stack of cards and I take them carefully. They’re photographs that have been turned into post cards. There’s the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, and other various locations around Europe. But they all have one glaring thing in common.

  “What’s the orange circular object in all the photos?”

  It looks like a small bean bag or something, but with eyes.

  “That is the orange head.”

  “Orange head,” I repeat.

  He smiles. “Have you ever seen the movie Amelie? It’s a French film.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He takes a deep breath before continuing. “It’s about a woman named Amelie. After her mom dies, her dad is kinda reclusive. He’s never travelled, but he’s always wanted to. Amelie has a friend who’s a stewardess, and Amelie gives her a garden gnome from her dad’s front yard. The stewardess takes pictures all around the world of the gnome in different countries at various famous sites, and Amelie leaves them for her dad to find.”

  “Okay.”

  “The orange head is our garden gnome. But really, it’s Liam trying to make amends.”

  “For Chloe?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is it working?”

  “I don’t know.” His eyes meet mine in the dim light, and a frisson of tension pulses in the air between us. “You’re really lucky,” he says, changing the subject. “Your family is amazing.”

  I’m surprised, after all the pranks and shenanigans that have been going on all day, that he would be able to express anything positive about them.

  “They’re a little over the top,” I say.

  “But they love you.”

  “Yes. I’m sure they do.”

  “They stole a snow plow to come get you,” he reminds me.

  “That is true. But I’ve always felt out of place with them. They’re loud and spontaneous. All of the pranks they pull…they’re very ridiculous. It’s like I was adopted.”

  “You shouldn’t worry about being out of place. They’re your family and they love you. Just be yourself.”

  “I couldn’t be any other way.”

  He watches me for a second with those dark eyes that only look green in the light, and I suppress a shiver.

  “You really couldn’t be any other way.” His hand is on my knee and he’s facing me. “It’s one of the things I really like about you. There’s no prevarication. No deception. No hiding what you’re thinking. Except for that whole thing with Tony, but even then…”

  His hand on my knee begins to travel upward. I don’t quite realize I’m leaning towards him until I’m so close I can see the small crease in his bottom lip. He inclines in my direction and I shut my eyes, waiting.

  He lets out a small groan and leans back.

  “We can’t,” he says.

  My eyes fly open in time to see the expression of frustration on his face.

  “We’re in your parent’s house and…They’ve been so great, you should probably leave. Because I know what happens when we kiss and we can’t do that here.” He scoots away from me, towards his pillow. “I’ll just sit on my hands over here and you should run away. Quickly.”

  I can’t help the grin that grows on my face. Now, I feel slightly better about my own loss of control around Jensen since it seems he shares the same difficulty.

  “Quite the gentleman,” I tell him as I stand.

  “Yep.” He’s not looking at me.

  “Good night,” I say, hand on the doorknob. “Watch out for mousetraps when you’re putting your hand in drawers. Or under your pillow. Or anywhere a mousetrap can fit.”

  He gives me a bemused smile. “Okay.”

  I watch him for a brief moment. He looks so enticing in the bed with his rumpled hair and dark eyes. I force myself to look away before stepping into the hallway and shutting the door gently behind me.

  Once I can’t see Jensen anymore, and I’m safely ensconced in my childhood room, my brain starts whirring into action. This means he likes me, doesn’t it? Well, I’ve established that I like him, but what does he think? He’s never stated anything specific. Am I just a product of convenience and proximity, or is this going somewhere?

  Oh dear. I’m turning into a girl.

  I shove the emotion-fueled thoughts out of my mind.

  Does it really matter? The most important part of this is that I’m happy. He’s happy. I’m having fun. I’m accomplishing precisely what I set out to obtain – emotions. I like that Jensen fits in well with my family. He goes along with their absurd antics, he’s a gentleman in my mother’s house, and he’s fun to be around.

  I climb into bed, moving the sheets aside, pausing for a moment to remove a plastic piece of fake vomit and toss it on the dresser.

  Actually, I feel a little remorse about my own judgmental attitude towards my family and their antics. Jensen thinks I’m lucky; as a matter of fact, he wishes he had a family as ridiculous as my own. Maybe…maybe they aren’t so ridiculous.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nothing shocks me. I’m a scientist.

  –Indiana Jones