All I Want--{A Peter Kavinsky Story}

4. CHEMISTRY

Peter Kavinsky was going to be my lab partner for the year.

How did this even happen? Since when does he take AP classes?

Peter takes the seat next to me. I can't even form any words. He's smirking. That bastard knows that I'm uncomfortable right now. I need a comeback and quick.

"What Tessie? Has the cat got your tongue?" He asks as he pulls a notebook from his backpack.

He hasn't called me "Tessie" since seventh grade. I shake my head, still not able to form any words.

He chuckles, "It's okay, I usually have that effect on people", he replies, cockily.

Ever since I met him, he's always been so cocky. He always thinks he's what everyone naturally talks and thinks about. He basically spills confidence everywhere he goes. I would say it's annoying, but I'm actually quite jealous.

I wish I had that confidence.

I roll my eyes. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he has some effect on me, because obviously he doesn't.

"Peter K., are you sure you're in the right class? I think Chemistry for tools is in the room across the hall," I retort, using the name that he hasn't heard since the start of middle school.

Surprise flashes his eyes for a split second before he grins and puts his hand over his heart, trying to look as unbothered as possible.

"Ouch," he exclaims in a playful way, "why so mean?"

"I guess your girlfriend is contagious," I reply, before turning my attention to the front of the class.

Peter rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything more. I smirk in satisfaction.

"What Kavinsky? Has the cat got your tongue?" I whisper innocently, in the same sardonic tone he previously used.

He sticks his tongue at me, and I flip him off in response. Our little exchange is interrupted by the last bell.

Mrs. Han is writing down things on the board, and the class seems to have found their seats. She starts passing out the class syllabus and I skim through it. Our summer homework would be due tomorrow and the test for the first three chapters would be on Monday.

It should be a piece of cake. My homework was done, and I had been studying all summer. So I would just need to do a quick review. I hated procrastinating.

The teacher goes on to explain the syllabus and all that, and I feel one of Peter's knees bouncing next to mine.

"Would you stop that?" I hiss, annoyingly.

"We had homework?" Peter asks nervously, chewing on the top of his pen, "It's the first day of school."

I look at him confused to see if he's joking but he wasn't. This already the third time today that I see him nervous or uncomfortable. That's a record.

For our summer homework, we had to read the first three chapters from the textbook and take notes. The teacher had sent out an email with instructions at the beginning of the summer. If he didn't do any of it, he was going to have a hard time with the test.

"Peter, it's an AP class, of course we had homework!" I respond.

He looks at me completely confused. He's seriously stressing me out. The summer homework is worth like ten percent of our grade.