Can't Beat the Chemistry

by Kat Colmer

  It hurts because he’s right.

  The harder I try to convince myself Mum’s path is the one to take, the more I know it’ll erode what’s left of my sense of self.

  A chill rushes up my limbs, the kind my coat back inside the restaurant can’t keep away.

  I wrap my arms around myself. ‘I’m not good with blood.’

  My brother’s smile is tight with sadness. ‘All the more reason not to become a surgeon.’

  I lose the fight to keep back the tears. No matter how much I wipe at them they keep coming, washing away my pretence, exposing me for the cowardly fraud that I am.

  ‘Do you hate me?’ The question freezes me in place, but now it’s out, I want to know. I need to know.

  Theo’s brow furrows in confusion.

  ‘For never …’ I reach for his arm but let my hand fall again. My tongue is heavy, but I force myself to say the words weighing it down. ‘I should have defended you, when you told Mum about art school, about not following her into medicine. There were so many times I should have defended you but …’ I lift my gaze slowly, fearful of what I’ll find in his eyes. ‘Do you hate me?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I don’t hate you. I—God, Macca.’ He pulls me into his arms and tucks my head under his chin, like he used to do back home when I’d come crying to him. ‘I never expected you to defend me. I know better than anyone what she’s like.’ He runs a hand up and down my back. It’s meant to soothe, but it only makes my tears flow harder.

  ‘You’ve become so distant,’ I mumble into his shirt. ‘I can’t help but think it’s because I didn’t have the guts to—because I didn’t stand up for you.’

  ‘I’m the big brother. If anyone’s meant to do any standing up, it’s me.’ His chest expands under my cheek with the laboured breath he takes. ‘I’m just frustrated, Macca. And tired. I can deal with her disowning me, but I’m so tired of watching you allow her to force you into something you don’t want to do.’

  He eases me away from him and the look in his eyes—the pity looking back at me is so much worse than anything resembling hate.

  And in that moment, I know: the gap between me and Theo will only grow wider if I choose my mother over him.

  If I choose my mother over me.

  I’m so focused on my brother I don’t notice Luke beside me.

  ‘Want a ride home?’ he asks quietly.

  Yes. Yes!

  But the question isn’t for me.

  Theo shakes his head. ‘Think I’ll walk.’

  It’s a good hour or more from here to their apartment but Luke nods, attuned to a hidden need in my brother’s expression I’m too blind to see.

  ‘Stay with Macca,’ Theo says to Luke as he turns to leave. ‘I don’t like the drip she came with.’

  Jason. A grab of guilt tenses up my stomach. I’ve barely paid him any attention tonight. But then he’s barely paid me any himself. It’s not Jason standing here with Theo and me. It’s Luke.

  He hands me my coat. It goes some way to warming up my body but does little for the cold lodged deep inside as I watch my brother head down the street.

  ‘You okay with me staying?’

  Only when Theo’s back disappears around the corner do I turn to Luke. ‘Do you mind?’ Because right now I really need a friend.

  ‘’Course not.’ His smile warms me up a little more.

  I try to return it but my lips won’t obey. And then I remember. ‘Who’s looking after Rosie?’

  ‘I convinced her to spend the night at a friend’s.’

  The smile comes easily when I think of the lengths Luke must have gone to for Rosie to agree to his suggestion. ‘So how many Patrick Swayze movies are you in for when you get back?’

  He runs a hand over his face and sighs. ‘I promised her a back-to-back marathon after church tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re driving up tomorrow morning?’

  He shakes his head. ‘Tonight. Rosie’s sleepovers can be a bit unpredictable. I want to be around in case I have to pick her up in the middle of the night.’

  That means he’ll have made the two-hour trip four times this weekend. A wave of gratitude washes over me and sets my eyes prickling up again.

  ‘You didn’t have to come.’ But I’m so glad he did.

  He shrugs like it’s no big deal when we both know it’s mammoth. ‘Theo mentioned you could both use a wingman.’ Then his expression turns serious. ‘He’s right, you know. You can’t let someone else’s expectations dictate your life.’

  I pull the edges of my coat together and turn back towards the restaurant. ‘It’s not that simple.’

  ‘I’m not saying it is.’ He falls in beside me. ‘But any other way and you’ll be miserable, MJ.’

  I cut him a glare. ‘So why are you letting your father’s expectations dictate your life?’

  Luke flinches at the question, but I’m too far gone in my own self-pity to care about social etiquette. ‘Chemistry, Luke. You’re studying chemistry to prove something to your father. Zac told me.’

  Shock grinds him to a halt, but he catches up to me halfway back to the restaurant. ‘Sure, before he left, my father reminded me most days I didn’t live up to his expectations. Even as a six-year-old I got the message I was too stupid to waste his valuable time on.’

  His words slow my step, but it’s his smile—heartbreakingly devoid of humour—that brings me to a stop. A memory of my six-year-old self forced to play Bach minuets for hours on end until I couldn’t feel the tips of my fingers flashes across my mind. It’s sobering, this realisation that in some ways Luke and I aren’t all that different.

  ‘Dad might have left but his words never did,’ Luke continues. ‘They bounced around in my head for years, undermining every milestone, every achievement.’ Shoulders hunching, Luke slides his hands into the pockets of his jacket. ‘For a kid who struggled to learn at the best of times, those words eroded the little confidence I had. Mum tried to encourage me, help where she could, but she had her hands full with Rosie. If it wasn’t for Mr Lane …’ He trails off, eyes looking over my shoulder into a past no six-year-old should have lived. ‘The point is I eventually found someone who built me up instead of silently tearing me down. Who helped me find my own dream and encouraged me to live it. Someone who taught me the importance of silencing those damaging words bouncing around in my head. Passing chemistry might have started out with me wanting to prove something to my father. But you’ve turned it into me wanting to prove something to myself: that I’m good enough, MJ. That I can do it. You’ve shown me that I can silence the last of those damaging words. And that’s all Theo wants to do, help you silence those words.’

  Silence those words? All I know is Luke’s words are sending a frisson of something racing through me. Fear? Longing? Hope? I’m too much of a coward to analyse the response, so I tug the edges of my coat together to stop myself from falling apart.

  But he’s not finished yet. ‘You have so much going for you, MJ. You’re smart, determined, loyal. Don’t waste all that living someone else’s dream.’

  I shake my head. ‘She gave up her own surgical career for us, and now that Theo isn’t studying medicine … I can’t do that to her.’ But my voice—like my conviction—is wavering. ‘I’m not strong like Theo and you,’ I say, as much for Luke’s sake as for mine.

  He must sense my indecision, because one step forward and his warm hands are covering mine. ‘Yes you are. And you wouldn’t be on your own. You’d have Theo there every step of the way.’

  His fingers squeeze my rigid cold ones.

  I glance down. The skin around his nails is raw; evidence his father’s words still have the power to cause damage. And yet it hasn’t stopped those hands holding a pen while he wrestles with chemical equations or a set of drumsticks while he does what he loves best.

  Could I do the same?


  Feather light, his thumb brushes over my knuckles. ‘And me.’

  And what?

  Confused, I look up. And my breath stumbles at the offer in Luke’s parakeet green eyes.

  Luke

  There’s Only One Choice

  I swear MJ’s stopped breathing. Too soon, you idiot. Too soon. Here she is, grappling with decisions about her future and I muddy everything by spilling my emotional guts. Way to add to her problems.

  I let go of her hands, stuff mine into my pockets. Both to stop myself from gnawing at my skin and from reaching for her again. Her huge eyes are fixed on my face, scouring my expression for meaning. I should take back what I said. Or at least make it sound more platonic, make it sound less … less …

  ‘Do you mean you and …’ She swallows but keeps her gaze locked on mine. ‘As in you and I?’

  There’s fear in her question, but it’s drowned out by the spark of possibility in her huge, trusting eyes.

  I have no choice. With a hopeful breath I take the plunge. ‘Yes. You and I.’

  Her lips part on a quick intake of breath like the idea of an ‘us’ is a complete surprise to her. But it can’t be. Not after dinner Monday night. Not when she’s got me knocking over cymbal stands and melting time.

  I ball the inside of my hoody pockets in my fists. I ache to take her hands in mine but don’t want to crowd her. ‘I’m not saying we should jump into anything. Just, maybe, spend more time together, get to know each other, do something other than study chemistry. If you want.’

  She blinks. That’s it? That’s her only reaction? For a girl who’s normally as easy to read as a neon sign she now manages to pull off a poker face?

  ‘Is that what you want?’ Another blink.

  Ah hell, she’s going to make me spell it out for her. ‘Yes. I wouldn’t say so if it wasn’t. I like you, MJ.’ And it’s as much a surprise to me as it is to her, but there it is.

  ‘Why?’

  Any other girl and I’d think she’s fishing for compliments, but not MJ. There’s genuine confusion cutting grooves across her brow.

  Why? The answers come flooding without me even trying. ‘Because you love your brother with a fierceness I can understand. Because that prickly exterior of yours hides a girl who deep down wants to help others. Because despite my initial conviction you’d make me feel stupid you’ve made me feel more capable than I’ve ever felt before. And because I love to watch your face break into a smile, especially when I’m the cause of it.’

  Okay, that last bit? Too soppy. Still, I force myself to hold her gaze, even as warmth punches through the skin on my face.

  ‘Oh.’ Another blink. She’s killing me with all her poker face practise. But … is that a tinge of pink spreading across her cheek bones? And bingo! A smile. Slow, like the flutter of hope locking up my lungs.

  But it’s there.

  And now it’s me who’s stopped breathing.

  ‘MJ?’

  I close my eyes at the voice. It takes serious self-control not to bite Super Brain’s head off for spoiling the moment. The determined way he chews up the distance between the restaurant and us, I doubt he’d take much notice of me anyway.

  His eyes are all for MJ. ‘The results are in. We’ve topped the class!’

  Ignoring me, he sticks his phone under her nose so she can read whatever he’s so excited about.

  Concentration pulls at her brows as she scans the screen. A moment later jealousy rakes my gut at the smile she beams up at him.

  ‘It gets better.’ Jason swipes across his phone and points to the screen. ‘Professor P signed us up to present our paper at the National Undergrad Project Competition in Perth. We fly out on the Saturday afternoon in two weeks.’

  MJ’s smile slips. ‘Saturday?’

  It takes me a beat to understand why her excitement is wavering. Then I do the maths and … ah hell.

  Jason frowns at the sudden change in her mood. ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘I had plans that weekend.’ MJ’s gaze avoids mine.

  ‘Well change them.’ Jason crosses his arms. ‘This is more important.’

  Her hands grip the edges of her coat again, knuckles gleaming white in the overhead streetlight. Slowly, she lifts her eyes to meet mine. ‘I’m so sorry, Luke’

  I force my lips into a smile. ‘It’s fine. I’ll find someone else to play. You have to go.’ Of course she has to go. I’d never expect her to miss an opportunity like this, just so she can play at Rosie’s concert. Doesn’t mean disappointment isn’t gnawing holes into the lining of my gut.

  Jason eyes me like I owe him an explanation.

  It’s MJ that gives him one. ‘I was going to help Luke out with a concert but—’

  ‘I thought you said the tutoring wouldn’t interfere.’

  I’m about to tell the douche I don’t like his tone when MJ straightens. ‘This has nothing to do with the tutoring. This was about helping a friend.’ She offers me a smile full of apology before facing Jason again. ‘I’ll be at the competition.’

  ‘I just want to make sure you have your priorities straight,’ he says, slicing me a sharp glance. ‘Let’s go back inside and tell your parents.’

  The way he’s been buddying up to MJ’s mother, I’m surprised he hasn’t told them already.

  He starts back towards the restaurant. When MJ doesn’t move, he stops again and raises a brow.

  MJ tugs at her coat. ‘Give me a moment, okay?’

  His jaw clenches but he nods. ‘Don’t be long.’ He throws me one last warning glare and we’re finally rewarded with the back of him.

  The warmth of MJ’s hand on my arm snaps my gaze from his retreating form to her face. ‘I didn’t know Professor P would enter us in this competition, but it’s a fantastic opportunity and I can’t let Jason down. Please tell Rosie I’m sorry.’ There’s genuine regret in her eyes.

  I force another smile. I’ve forced so many tonight it’s starting to feel normal. ‘She’ll understand.’ She won’t, not really. For Rosie, people come before prizes and achievements. Maybe she’s the smartest of us all.

  MJ motions towards the restaurant. ‘I should go.’

  ‘Do you still want me to stay?’ It’s a straightforward question but I sense a great deal hinges on MJ’s answer.

  Her moonless midnight gaze wavers and lands on her feet. ‘You have a long drive. I’d understand if you’d rather go.’ She glances up, only for a moment, but it’s enough to catch the quiet dismissal in her eyes.

  Something like pain shoots through my chest. I swallow to push it down.

  Face it, you’ll always come in second best.

  The voice in my head is a whisper but it shouts the undeniable truth; I’ll never be good enough for MJ Olsen-Wang. Not as long as the likes of Jason are around. Not as long as MJ continues to live her mother’s plan for her life.

  This time I can’t even force a smile. ‘I’ll head off then.’

  She nods. ‘I’ll see you Monday?’

  My stomach twists. We have four more tutoring sessions before final exams. How am I going to get through four hours with her after tonight? Guess I’ll have to perfect that forced smile.

  ‘Sure. See you Monday.’ I start backing away. My car is parked around the corner. Suddenly I’m desperate for the solitude of its crappy old interior with the stereo system turned up full blast. The loud music won’t make me forget, but it might stop me from thinking about her for the two-hour drive home.

  Yeah, right. And Santa will bring you a brand new drum kit for Christmas.

  Ready to wait until MJ is safely back inside the restaurant, I shove my hands into my back pockets and come into contact with paper. I pull out the card. Do I still give it to her? As far as I’m concerned, I’ve spelled out my feelings, but knowing MJ, a second hint won’t hurt. At least tha
t way there’ll be no misunderstanding. If she cuts me down after that, I’ll know I’ve done everything I can to let her know where I stand on the idea of an ‘us’. And it is her birthday dinner out. Her choice tonight doesn’t change that.

  ‘MJ!’

  Hand on the door, she turns.

  I jog the distance separating us. ‘I know it’s not ’till Monday but anyway, Happy Birthday.’ I hand her the card and look one last time into those moonless midnight eyes, send one last silent plea that she gives us a chance, before I walk away.

  I’m on the highway ten minutes later, Two Steps From Hell blasting from the speakers as loud as the old station wagon’s volume dial will allow.

  Not loud enough to drown out my biggest fear …

  That I’m too stupid for MJ Olsen-Wang to waste time on.

  MJ

  The First of the Cracks

  The clock on the dashboard of Jason’s Beamer says it’s ten to eleven when we pull up outside my parents’ house. The moment the engine cuts out, Jason turns to me.

  ‘You know making it into this competition is a big deal, right?’

  His irritated tone catches me off guard.

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Then maybe you could show a little more enthusiasm about it. You’ve hardly said a word the entire trip here.’

  That’s because he’s been happy to listen to the sound of his own voice rambling on about the competition since he convinced Mum and Dad he should drive me home after we finished at the restaurant.

  But I’m being unfair. I’ve been happy to let him ramble. Because I haven’t been able to dredge up the same level of enthusiasm as him. I’m too preoccupied with the image of Theo walking away from me.

  And then there’s Luke.

  I push the image of Luke’s hopeful green eyes from my mind and focus on Jason.