Priory // h.s.

chapter four

Ignoring someone while you're working about two feet apart from each other is a lot harder than it sounds. I succeed for about two minutes. Then my natural nosiness takes over, and I set down the test tube I've been aimlessly fiddling with. "So, what made you dump a test tube on your supervisor?"

"He was being a know-it-all prick." Harry doesn't glance up at me as he carefully measures out of glucose and some other liquid. I wonder what kind of experiment he's trying to do. 

"Oh. So you called him 'tubby'."

"Yeah."

Some of the liquid glucose spills onto the lab table, and I reach for a paper towel, wiping it up dutifully. Harry glances at me, but doesn't give so much as a thank-you. "You fight with people a lot, don't you?"

Gritting his teeth audibly, Harry glares at the test tube in his hands. It's a wonder the delicate object doesn't shatter from the green laserbeams of his eyes. 

"Because like, the first time I saw you, you were fighting with Cade."

Tension coils onto Harry's face, and he pointedly ignores me, slamming the jar of glucose back onto the counter and reaching for another chemical. 

"But Jillian told me there was a reason you and Cade didn't get along," I continue my prattling, unable to stop out of nervousness. "She said something happened a few months back, to one of the interns. And you blamed Cade for it, and-"

"Who the hell is Jillian?" he finally interrupts.

I'm a little frightened by the intensity in his voice. He refuses to meet my eyes, but I can see his arm shaking with anger on the tabletop. I take an involuntary step backwards. "She's a... she works in Lab 2, just like you."

If he recognizes the name of his coworker, he doesn't show it. Instead, he fixes me with an expression of not-so-concealed rage, and I really regret opening my mouth in the first place. "Look, Amber," he says, and I barely have time to make note of the fact that he actually used my real name, "I hate Cade. Why I hate him is none of your business. Stop shoving your nose where it doesn't belong, unless you want me to hate you too."

"You already do hate me," I say. God, I need to shut up.

He gives a dry laugh. "You really think I hate people that easily?"

"Well... yeah?"

He sucks in a soft breath, but doesn't respond. I'm not sure what to make of that reaction.

After a few minutes, I get up and open one of the research books lying on the table. "I'm just gonna do a random experiment to pass time," I say unprofessionally.

"So you weren't doing anything before," he crows triumphantly. "Liar."

I pull a face. "Shut up."

Rummaging around in the drawers beneath the lab table, I pull out a beaker and some ingredients, scanning the page to make sure I'm doing things right. As I begin to pour out a measure of chemical, Harry's voice cuts in yet again. "That's too much."

"Is not. It says 500 milliliters right here, and that's exactly 500."

"That's a typo, then. You're not supposed to use more than 300."

Narrowing my eyes, I say in an icy tone, "I'm quite sure the freaking science book knows more than you, Harry."

"Nothing and no one knows more than me," is his cocky response.

"I'm using 500."

"Amber. You're going to make a mess; it's going to explode or something," he warns, reaching for the beaker to pour some of the blue chemical back in.