It’s lab day again, and Kirk and I doze off during the instructions as we always do. Ms. Eliot takes far too long to explain everything, and Kirk and I are usually clever enough to figure it out on our own and still get our experiment done in half the time it takes the other students. Today we’re doing something classic, something that involves a lot of test tubes over Bunsen burners and strange-colored liquids. It should be simple. What isn’t simple though, is this warm, twisted-up feeling in my chest. This feeling that I know is called love but that I keep trying to pretend is something else.
Kirk is designing a graph on our worksheet and I’m setting up the experiment. I take a test tube filled with a bright scarlet liquid and move it to heat over the Bunsen burner with my tongs. I take a second to look over at Kirk, and I’m in the middle of appreciating the cute way he scratches his head with his pencil when he’s thinking, when all of a sudden, my hand feels like it’s been set on fire.
I screech as I realize the tube has boiled over and the red liquid is bubbling over my hand. “Oh my god,” I say, panting as I shake my hand up and down.
“I got it, I got it,” Kirk says, grabbing a wet towel and cleaning off my hand with gentle strokes. Ms. Eliot is about to interfere but backs away when she realizes that Kirk has the situation well under control.
My hand is still burning with pain and stained a bright red as Kirk runs the towel over with cold water again and reapplies it. He is cradling my arm in his, gently cleaning my hand with great precision and care. I’m sure everyone was staring, but how was I to know? I’m far too wrapped up in the safe feeling I get from Kirk cradling my arm against his chest, and watching in awe at how focused and concerned he is with making sure that I’m alright.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I joked to Kirk, and he just smiles down at me as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I’m always going to make sure you’re okay, Marissa.”
And that was when I gave the feeling a name.
Whatever, Kirk. You know what, whatever. Be that way. If you’re the kind of guy who is capable of holding a grudge against someone for over a decade, that’s your problem. Okay, I woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning, as they say. Although, when you’re me, there is no wrong side. It’s just me, all alone in my shitty apartment, being bitter about the fact that a boy I liked in high school won’t pay attention to me anymore. And that I burned my breakfast this morning. But that’s another story.
It’s the second meeting of the week and I’m already fed up. Look. I know Kirk said he’s fine, but he certainly hasn’t been acting like it. He won’t look at me, and he won’t talk to me in the friendly way he does to our other coworkers.
We’re sitting in the second meeting of the week, and Johnathan is droning on and on about one of our investors. I can sense Kirk looking at me from the corner of my eye. Not that it means anything. It could just as well be hate staring. He used to stare at me in Biology class because I was pretty, but I had a queasy sort of feeling that wasn’t the reason anymore. Did I mention I pulled his name for Secret Santa? Talk about queasy. I mean what kind of gift do you get for a guy whose heart you broke a decade ago and is apparently still pretty bitter about it?
“…and that’s how we can improve client outreach. Any questions?” Johnathan is gazing around the room, and his eyes land on me. “Marissa! The newbie! Do you have any input?”
Before I speak my eyes dart over to Kirk, who is making a concerted effort to look as if he’s not paying attention to me. That’s it. Fine. If he wants war, I’ll give him war.
“Well,” I say, leaning back in my chair and twirling my pen. “I think we should re-establish our relationships with some of our old clients. I mean, if it worked once, why shouldn’t it work again?” I see Kirk look up in surprise and scoff quietly to himself.
“An interesting idea…” Johnathan says, politely agreeing. “It’s great to get some fresh perspectives in this room, Marissa. We’re glad to have you here.”
“I would have to disagree,” Kirk interrupted suddenly, and the room froze solid.
Everyone turned to see Kirk now paying full attention and ready to make a point.
“And why do you disagree?” Johnathan asked respectfully.
“Well,” Kirk said with a pointed look towards me. “With all due respect, I think the Torver Corporation is about the Future. We’re about progress. Moving on. If we keep revisiting old clients we won’t be able to grow as a company.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“New clients are risky,” I retorted, glaring back at Kirk. “I’ve looked through some of our old files with Johnathan, and we’ve built strong relationships with some of these clients. If something worked well, I think it’s worth it to try again.”
“Well, alright then,” Johnathan said, with an uncomfortable look that made it seem like he understood that we were no longer talking about our client base. “I suppose we’ll have to come up with some sort of compromise! We can discuss this later. Back to work everyone.”
I took a deep breath as I got up with the rest of my coworkers and headed out of the conference room. Did I really just say that? Did I imply that I wanted Kirk back? I mean, that was high school. Ancient history. We were a flower pressed at the back of a book…very nice to look back at fondly, to reminiscence of summer days, but very, very dead.
I thought it over as I stumbled into the break room for another coffee. I mean, we had clicked back then. Click was an understatement. It was magic. And of course, there was the undeniable fact that he had gotten irresistibly sexy. Just the thought of him staring at me angrily from across the table was turning me on, his sweater sleeves rolled up so you could see the gorgeously sculpted muscles of his forearms…Christ. And all those problems we had back in high school, those were non-issues now, right? I mean, we are adults.
I was dying for some more caffeine after whatever the hell had just occurred. The coffee machine in the break room was one that had been imported from some small country in Europe and was nearly impossible to figure out how to use, but it sure beat the line for the Swiss coffee maker in the reception room, which of course came with the added bonus of awful small talk with my coworkers, which I was certainly not in the mood for today. I pulled the machine towards me and tried to figure out how to fit one of the strange cylindrical coffee packets inside. I stuck my finger inside and tried to wiggle the coffee packet until it fit. I almost had it, just a little bit—
“Ow! Shit! Oh god…” I muttered. I had just completely sliced my finger open on what must have been some small, invisible blade inside the machine, and my finger was already bleeding all over the counter.
“Hey! I got it.”
I turned around in shock to see Kirk rush in and pull a first-aid kit out of one of the cabinets. “Oh…thanks,” I said, confused at why Kirk would rush in all of a sudden and help me after what had just went down at the meeting.
“Yikes, was that the coffee maker?”
“Er…yes?” I practically squeaked.
“Ugh, don’t worry, that thing is a death trap.” Kirk said. “We literally have like one injury from it a month. I’ve been bugging Johnathan to get rid of it forever.”
I smiled as I watched Kirk pour some antiseptic onto a cloth and apply it to my finger. “Sting much?” he asked.
“A little,” I admitted, but I was far too distracted to even tell.
Déjà vu swept over me as Kirk wiped off the blood from my finger with the cloth and applied a bandage to it. God, he was gorgeous. I could see him as a doctor in some bloody and ruthless war, solid and unshakable, saving the lives of soldiers as women swooned over him. He met my eyes when he was finished and I felt my knees grow weak.
“Why are you taking care of me?” I asked. “I thought…”
“I’m sorry,” Kirk said. “It’s just…well, I guess after all these years I had kind of a strong emotional reaction, but I shouldn’t, I just—”
“But why are you helping me?”
“You know I’m always going to make sure you’re okay, right, Marissa?” Kirk said, and squeezed my hand gently. He looked at me and suddenly I was sixteen again, we were back, we were young, things were new and…
Kirk smiled at me before he walked out, back towards his office.
And that was when I knew I wanted him again.
But this time, I promised myself, I would be in it one hundred percent.