DARK CHEMISTRY
The day of the chemistry exam
The hallway buzzed with panic. Students flipped notes, complained, prayed to every known deity.
But Lizzie…
Lizzie sat in her seat, clutching her pen so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Her heart thudded violently.
I have to do well… I have to… I don't want him to think I'm stupid…
The question paper was distributed.
Everyone flipped it immediately.
Lizzie didn't.
She breathed in slowly, gathering the courage.
Then she opened it.
Her stomach dropped.
Most of it she knew… but three questions… three long, heavy, terrifying questions stared back at her like monsters.
Her hands trembled.
Quiet footsteps approached.
Daniel, invigilator for this exam, walked along the aisles.
His black shirt sleeves were rolled up, veins visible, expression sharp— but his eyes softened the moment they landed on Lizzie.
She tried to hide her panic, lowering her face into the paper.
A minute passed.
Five.
Then—
A shadow fell over her desk.
Lizzie's breath caught.
Daniel leaned slightly, pretending to check her roll number… but his finger subtly tapped a diagram on her paper.
Tap… tap.
Her eyes widened.
He wasn't pointing.
He was telling her where to look.
Lizzie swallowed and followed his silent hint.
Suddenly the question made sense.
She scribbled the answer quickly before she could forget.
He moved on.
A while later, she reached another question — something she was completely blank about. Her pulse quickened.
Daniel returned, slow, deliberate steps.
He stood behind her for a moment.
Then his voice, low enough that only she could hear, brushed past her ear:
"Think electron configuration… not orbital shape."
Lizzie's heart jumped into her throat.
She nodded quickly, pretending to erase something on her paper, but actually writing the correct concept he hinted.
No one noticed.
No one even suspected.
He walked away casually, but Lizzie saw it—the faintest smirk on his lips.
She finished her paper with trembling hands.
When the bell rang and students handed in their sheets, Lizzie stayed back, packing slowly.
Daniel picked up her paper last, glancing at it with a small, private expression only she ever saw:
Pride.
Approval.
And something deeper he never admitted.
As Lizzie walked past him to leave the classroom, he spoke without looking up:
"You did well. Told you not to be scared."
She stopped.
Her cheeks flushed.
"Th-thank you… Daniel."
He looked up then — eyes sharpened, but warm at the center.
"Good girl."
Lizzie nearly tripped over her own feet as she hurried out.