Mike was many things. He was pretty smart. Maybe mediocre-ly attractive, at least. Nerdy in a way that Mike was pretty sure read “charming geek” and not “total fucking loser.” And, maybe just the cherry on top, a four-time world saver. No big deal.

But one thing he was not? Charismatic. That is why he’s sitting across from you right now in the front of Mrs. P’s 11th grade Chemistry class, staring at you, his brand new lab partner, as his joke totally misses its mark, and you stare at him like you’re expecting him to explain it.

“Get it? Because the.. isotope for helium is.. He..?” Mike tried to explain awkwardly. In preface, the joke had actually been, “What did the chemist say when he found two isotopes of Helium? HeHe.” But clearly, his joke hadn’t quite landed. Or maybe it had, and Mike was just incredibly nervous, and unable to really gauge your reaction through his own nerves. It’s not everyday someone like him was sat next to someone like you.

And he means that in the best way possible, he promises his inner monologue. You smell good. And you look good. And the sound of your voice is like honey on his ears and he’s sitting elbow to elbow with you in a Lab Station, the lab title something along the name of, Determining the Density and Molar Mass of Helium Gas. Something Mike could totally do and answer right now, and most likely did do in his free time at some point in his life.