A Chapter of my Memoir

Chemistry 

            Days went by and I always looked to the front of the science room to see if Ben was sitting there, but he never was. I felt like a part of me was lost and I needed to find it before I went crazy. I missed him, even though we were only friends – though I hoped someday to be more. I missed the careless attitude he always had and the twinkle in his eye that made it seam like he was getting into trouble. I wanted so badly to see him. But patience was all I had to keep control of myself; I knew he had to come back sometime.

            Ten school days later, he was there. Sitting right up front of our dingy science room, he reclined in the metal chair with crutches on the floor to his right and a gray cast on his left leg. He was talking to our teacher, Mrs. Wiltse, about making up all of his missed work.

            “You really missed a lot,” she told him.” I’m not sure you can make up everything and you’re going to be very behind so you won’t know what’s going on most of the time.”

            “Yea, I know, but I’ve gotta try. I just want to pass this class; I don’t need an A or anything. Could we work that out?” As he bargained with our teacher, people continued to file in. Soon Ben wasn’t asking questions any more, now he was the main event and people bombarded him with all the inquiries.

            “Does it hurt?”

            “Can you walk on it?”

            “How long were you at the hospital?”

            “Did they give you Vicodin? Can I have some?”

            “How was the food?”

            This continued until Mrs. Wiltse made everyone sit down so we could get the lesson going. We had to do a lab that day and no one wanted to stay after, so grudgingly, we all moved to our seats.

            Once released to begin the lab, I made my move. Ben was trapped, talking to all of our classmates, still at the front of the room. I quickly walked over and interrupted by asking if he wanted to be partners. He looked relieved and agreed. I flitted around him, grabbing materials and chemicals, while he crutched his way to our work bench at the back of the room.

            “So your finally back,” I said to him, not a question or a comment, but somewhere in between.

            “Well yea, I’m here aren’t I?” he replied.

            He sounded grumpy, as if he needed sleep and was sick of talking, or maybe just sick. I tried to be more gentle.

            “Well it’s nice to see you. I felt like you were gone forever.”

            “Why didn’t you come visit me?” he asked me, a wrinkle of concern darkened his brow.

            To this, I didn’t know what to say. Had he expected to see me? Was I supposed to have gone to see him? I didn’t know our friendship was that strong.

            “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know which hospital you were in,” I lied. “Plus I’m sure you had tons of people in there. You wouldn’t have wanted me there anyways.”

            He became quiet. I bit my lip; maybe I had said the wrong thing. That must not have been what he wanted to hear.

            “You could have at least called.” He said as he stared right at me. His eyes locked with mine and I felt a flutter in my stomach. He had wanted me to come see him and I had let him down. I could have kicked myself for not calling him. Bashfully, I told him I was sorry again and we began to do the lab.