The Chemistry With My Science Teacher

The Fire Within

The Fire Within

"This is a bit ridiculous," I remind Mr Peters as he holds the fortune teller out to me. I point my index finger out, hovering over the options below.

There's blue, red, pink or purple. In honour of Grace's new shorts, I decide to go with purple, and lightly tap the paper. Mr Peters begins spelling out the word, moving the fortune teller as he does.

It reveals a set of numbers, and I go with two. There's just the two of us here, alone, so it seemed appropriate. Mr Peters counts two, and the same set of numbers are revealed.

"Well that's no fun," Mr Peters comments, and I can't help but smile at his childish attitude. "Right, ask it a question, it should give you an answer."

I ponder this for a moment. Right now, I have about a million questions, with about two of them not being about Mr Peters. I decide to go with a safer question.

"What will happen in the revision class tomorrow?" I ask, and Mr Peters holds the fortune teller out to me. Again, I pick two to give me my answer.

Mr Peters slips his fingers out of the fortune teller and opens up the little flap for two. Instantly his cheeks go pink, and I smile warily at him, confused.

"What does it say?" I ask, and he hands the fortune teller to me. I read the result under the number two, and my eyes widen. I now realise why Mr Peters looked so flustered.

In scribbly handwriting, it simply reads 'kiss'.

"Well..." I trail off, and Mr Peters gulps. "I mean, that probably means two of the kids. Maybe they're gonna kiss after the class... How sweet..."

"Yeah... probably..." Mr Peters trails off, eyeing the fortune teller warily, like it's cursed. Which, with an answer like that, I wouldn't be surprised if it was.

"Why don't we just avoid that one?" I suggest, slipping my fingers into the paper. Mr Peters nods enthusiastically at this suggestion. "Your turn."

"Uh... Blue," Mr Peters picks, and I spell out the word. It reveals a set of numbers, and Mr Peters chooses seven, guaranteeing that the infamous two won't come up again.

"Ask it a question," I encourage, and Mr Peters hesitates. I wonder if he has the same questions I do. I wonder if he's thinking about me too.

"What will the rest of my day be like?" Mr Peters asks, and I nod at his incredibly sensible question. He chooses the number six.

Carefully, I pry open the paper flap, and look to the answer inside. My heart begins thudding as I realise it again reads 'kiss', but this time accompanied by a winking face.

"What does it say?" Mr Peters asks me, and I open my mouth to say something but I don't know what. No white lies spring to mind this time.

Gently, Mr Peters takes the paper from me, and reads the answer for himself. "Oh...Well that's a coincidence," he jokes, and I nod.

"It probably just means your wife or girlfriend will give you a nice kiss when you get home?" I suggest, and Mr Peters shrugs.

"I don't have a wife or girlfriend," Mr Peters informs me, his look expressive. I blink a few times, trying to register his meaning.

"Oh..." I trail off. Maybe he's trying to suggest that Milo would indeed have more luck with him than me. Or maybe he's trying to let me know that he's fully single and ready to mingle- with me.

Knowing my luck though, the former seems more likely.

"I'm actually recently single. She left me for someone else," Mr Peters elucidates, even though I didn't ask him to and really he owes me no explanation.