Chapter 2 – Clash in Chemistry

The smell of disinfectant and chemicals hit Harper the second she stepped into the chemistry lab, snapping her back into her element. The fluorescent lights reflected off polished counters, test tubes clinking softly as students settled into their lab stations. Harper’s heart rate slowed. This was her domain—order, rules, precision. And she intended to keep it that way.

She glanced across the room—and immediately regretted it.

Emery Collins. Leaning casually against a lab counter, hair slightly mussed from the morning walk, amber eyes sparkling with amusement. Emery’s grin widened as she saw Harper.

“Well, if it isn’t the queen of punctuality,” Emery said, voice dripping with mockery. “I didn’t think you’d make it on time with all those books.”

Harper bit back a retort, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Some of us actually prepare for lab, Collins,” she snapped.

Riley Chen, Emery’s roommate, gave Harper a small, knowing smile from across the room. Harper’s chest tightened. Riley was watching—not judging, just observing—but the awareness made Harper feel exposed.

“Prepare? Please,” Emery said, rolling her eyes. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world. Or just overcompensating.” She leaned closer, too close, and Harper had to resist the urge to step back. There was a heat emanating from her that wasn’t just physical—it was infuriating.

“Back off,” Harper muttered under her breath, trying to focus on her work.

Sasha Rivera, Harper’s lab partner, smirked. “Don’t let her get under your skin,” she whispered. “She’s like a cat—she thrives on annoying people.”

Harper ignored the comment, though she couldn’t ignore the way Emery’s presence seemed to fill the room. Every time their eyes met, Harper felt a flicker in her chest, a flutter she hated but couldn’t suppress.

Professor Aldridge clapped his hands. “Alright, class, today we’re doing the titration experiment. Pair up and follow instructions precisely. Any deviations, and your grade suffers.”

Harper’s heart sank when Emery sauntered over, pointing at the empty spot next to her.

“Mind if I join?” Emery asked, that infuriating grin still plastered across her face.

“You know I don’t work well with distractions,” Harper said tightly.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll manage,” Emery replied, casually settling in beside her.

The experiment began. Harper meticulously measured the chemicals, her hands steady. Emery hovered, commenting, teasing, and occasionally brushing Harper’s arm. Every touch was accidental, of course, but Harper felt the spark in her chest ignite, a mixture of annoyance and something dangerously exciting.

“You’re way too serious,” Emery whispered, leaning over to peek at Harper’s calculations. “Lighten up, Lawson. Life’s more fun when you don’t color-code everything.”

Harper glared. “Some of us value accuracy, Collins. Not everyone thrives on chaos.”

Emery’s laughter was low and teasing. “Oh, I thrive on chaos—and apparently, I thrive on annoying you.”

Riley Chen, working nearby, barely stifled a chuckle. Harper shot her a glare, but Emery only winked, brushing past Harper’s shoulder. Harper’s cheeks flamed, and she hated every second of it.

By the end of the lab, Harper had mixed her solution perfectly—but her pulse was erratic, her mind a whirl of irritation and…something else. Emery had smiled at her once when she wasn’t looking, and Harper had felt it like a spark against her skin.

As students filed out, Emery leaned in, voice low, teasing. “You know, Lawson…this is going to be fun.”

Harper’s chest tightened. “Hate you,” she muttered, more to herself than to Emery.

But deep down, she knew the truth: she didn’t hate her. Not even close.