Free Good Chemistry by George Stephenson Page B

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    “Now just relax, Bernie. You’re doing just fine. I’m right here. Remember, this is Andrew. You’ve known him for years. He cares about you. You know that. Remember, this is an unknown substance. He can’t predict anything. However you act will seem fine.”
    Judy’s words soothed Bernie’s tattered nerves. The last part especially calmed her. As long as she could wrap her mind around some scientific angle, she was fine.
    “Okay . . . okay . . . I’m okay.” Bernie’s eyes were still bugging out of her head a little but she was keeping it together. Through the picture window in the living room, Bernie saw Andrew pull up and park his Chevy Metro behind her Civic on the street.
    He got out and strode mechanically to the door. Bernie figured that he would have a cold, dispassionate scientific stance to the whole thing. It made her angry. If he had ever picked up on Bernie’s emotional cues, she wouldn’t have to resort to such a strange desperate play as this.
    “Hi, Bernie. Are you all ready to go?” Andrew angled himself down onto the couch next to her.
    “Yeah, I suppose I am.” Andrew, oblivious to all the reservation in Bernie’s voice, popped open a small carrying case he had sitting on his clipboard. He loaded a syringe from the phony elixir bottle and gave Bernie a shot in the arm.
    “Okay, Bernie, just stay calm and pretend to shake a little like Steven did,” Judy coached from her hiding spot.
    Bernie closed her eyes and pretended to tremble, which wasn’t really hard to pull off. It was what her body wanted to do anyway. She kept her eyes closed for a couple of minutes. Okay, Bernie, this is it. I can do this . Finally, her eyelashes fluttered open.
    Bernie looked straight into Andrew’s eyes. Her breath became choppy and halting, as if she had recently finished making love.
    “Okay, there seems to be a reaction taking place. I’ve never seen that look in your eyes before,” Andrew observed stiffly as he quickly scribbled down notes.
    Bernie’s eyes grew hotter as she fought the urge to slap him for never noticing this in her until now.
    “So let’s run through some standard questions. How do you feel right now?”
    Judy, with the attention span of a gnat, whispered, “I think I chaffed my ass on these roofing tiles.”
    Bernie, too nervous to think, repeated Judy’s words.
    “Okay, so I may be getting some skin irritation here.”
    Bernie grimaced and rolled her eyes up at the skylight when Andrew wasn’t looking. She had repeated Judy word for word.
    “Oh. Sorry about that. What I meant to say is that I feel warmth spreading all over my body. I’m seeing something in your eyes, Andrew, something deep and beautiful. I feel like I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” Judy whispered and Bernie repeated.
    Andrew nodded without looking up. He kept jotting notes. “Okay, let’s move on to question two. This question is designed to gauge to what degree your passion is consuming you.”
    “Okay.”
    “Who do you think is hotter, George Clooney or me?”
    Again, Judy stumbled. “Are you serious? That’s not even close. You’re not even in the same league as George Clooney.”
    Bernie’s eyes got huge as she realized what she’d parroted. “Ah, I mean, ah, that’s not even fair. He’s just an actor, but you, you’re a real man.” Bernie’s heart pounded furiously. She shifted awkwardly like she had slipped off a step. She reached out and put her hand on Andrew’s thigh.
    Her eyes became sultry as she began massaging up and down. She purred seductively. “You understand what I mean by a real man, don’t you?” Bernie managed to wink awkwardly.
    Judy was up on the roof laughing her ass off in Bernie’s ear, and Andrew thought it was her mascara causing her eyelashes to stick together, sadly Bernie realized he didn’t know what she meant. He scribbled a few more notes.
    “Okay, question three. What do you find attractive about