Final exams always created a great frenzy among the student body, especially one of a small, private day school where any letter lower than an A was a certain indication of failure for life. No exaggeration. The school administration tried different strategies in order to keep us all from competing constantly with one another. It decided that intensive competition was not healthy for academic growth. Well. I had a simple solution to the problem. All the school had to do was tell the teachers to give us all As for the rest of our high school career, and its worries would be all set. Our parents would finally get their money's worth, as my resolution would practically pave a road to future success for all of us. I had forced my friend, Andy, to bring my idea up in student council meetings, as she was one of the representatives. Although the idea passed extremely well under the student council—a unanimous and enthusiastic "yes"—the administration turned it down. Cold.

Usually academics did not worry me at all, until I decided in eighth grade that I was tired of my school and everyone in it. It horrified me to think that I would be seeing the same faces again in high school for four long, tortuous years. When my parents mentioned a fairly small, yet challenging private high school that was about half an hour's drive from our home, I jumped at the opportunity and applied. My interview had gone great and my teachers had written fabulous recommendations for me (or so I think to this day, anyhow). I had received the letter in late spring. After middle school graduation, I never looked back; the past was behind, and the future was ahead.

Life was anything but fantastic when I stepped into the main building of Dorrance Academy. It had been a major shock for me when I realized that I was not the only person with a decently sized cranium; in fact, it seemed as though there were miniature Einsteins and Newtons scattered around everywhere at the school. Freshman year had been a struggle, contrary to the confident assertions of my neighbor. He had told me that freshman year was a breeze, but sophomore year was fairly tough. Then again, I also did not take into account the fact that he was a) a genius and b) had gone to the public high school that I would have gone to, where half the student population suffered from deadness of the brain disease.

After long hours, floods of tears, and bags of chocolate (my comfort food), I managed to get through my first year of high school quite triumphantly. My grades were nearly perfect, except for a small blemish in Art, and my ego, which had previously been as miniscule as a my pinky nail, expanded to be a good size. I had looked forward to sophomore year with great gusto.

And so, I entered sophomore year, after spending previous three months of summer lounging in my backyard and indulging in chick lit novels. After a few weeks of school, my newly inflated ego had waned to the same size as it had been last year. My classes became difficult, and the teachers became nuisances. I've barely survived up until right now, late May, when finals were looming ahead in a few weeks—three, to be precise.

Of all the classes for the year, Chemistry has brought me, on my occasions, to the brink of insanity, if I may use such a hackneyed expression. I simply did not understand it. Sure, I understood the basic stuff: all matter was made up of atoms, electrons were negatively charged, water was just about the greatest substance on earth...etcetera. Although, I did not agree with the fact that water was so wonderful. Sure, humans were unable to live without it, but besides its life-giving abilities, what was so great about it, anyway? It had a few hydrogen bonds and some surface tension, but nothing much beyond those characteristics. When I tried to dispute the fact with my teacher, it did not turn out to be so successful, to say the least. Let's just say I certainly learned to keep my opinions to myself after the incident.

It also didn't help that my Chemistry teacher barely tolerated me. I figured it was probably because I asked too many questions, although teachers generally loved it when their students made inquiries. By the end, though, I pinned it down to the fact that my teacher, Mrs. Stein, just plain disliked me because I was, well, me.

Needless to say, my nerves have been getting the better of me. I had been surviving on five to six hours of sleep for the past two weeks. By the time lunchtime rolled around, my movement was similar to that of a zombie's. My feet shuffled across the floor as I dragged my body, which was carrying my ten-pound backpack, to the dining hall. Dropping my belongings outside the building, I entered and went to the lunch line, my limbs relaxing slightly as the pleasant aroma of the food filled the atmosphere. I took a peek at the lunch line, and saw that the menu consisted of grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and vegetable stir-fry. My mouth watered at the sight, and I quickly grabbed a tray and plate, almost being able to taste the delectable food melting in my mouth.

Ten minutes later, I was bounding toward my usual table. Most of my friends were already there, half-eaten plates and textbooks scattered about on the table. I dropped into an empty seat next to Andy, my student council representative chum, and began to cut the chicken into bite-sized pieces with great vigor.

"Someone's hungry today," she commented, looking amused. "Stressful day?"

"More like stressful month." I swallowed a mouthful of chicken. "I can't wait until finals are over. I feel like I'm falling into an abyss of misery."

"Poetic," piped up Winnie. "You should just flunk all your exams, except for English. You seem to have an unusually adept grasp with language."

I snorted. "Yeah, right. More like an unusually adept grasp at stealing other people's words. I found 'abyss' in some book we had to read for History, and it just sort of stuck in my mind. Besides, English will be tough, but it's not my biggest worry. Chemistry is."

"Well, it is your fault that you had to take all the advanced classes," said Robert reasonably.

"Hello? You're in my class, too, and you seem to be doing fine." My temper was already getting the better of me.

"Ask Mrs. Stein for help, then."

"You're kidding, right? The old bat hates my guts."

"Then find a tutor," suggested Andy, unfazed by my anger. I've had too many spontaneous fits for any of my tablemates to be surprised anymore.

"Andy, no one has time to tutor me," I sighed heavily. "Everyone else has to study. I can't just waste someone's time because my mind is about as sharp as a slice of cheese."

"A slice of cheese?" Robert glanced at me with an incredulous expression. "Some analogy. Anyway, I know someone who'd be willing to help. And he's in our class, too."

"Who? And does this involve money? 'Cause I have a big wad of cash stashed away somewhere at home…"

"James Levinson," he interjected, suddenly looking a little nervous.

I blinked, and then narrowed my eyes. "No way."

James Levinson stood for everything that I was not. He was an exceptional student, an agile athlete, and a dedicated member of numerous clubs. In short, the school's Golden Boy. Otherwise known as my greatest object of envy, and therefore my greatest enemy. My friends often told me that my aversion toward him was unwarranted, as he had never actually done anything offensive to me. Well, who ever said that I had any sense? Jealousy was indeed my sin, justified by the fact that it was my result for every single tacky quiz that I've taken on the Internet: "Which of the seven deadly sins are you?"

"Come on." Rob looked at me incredulously. "You don't have a substantial reason to hate the kid. Just give it a chance. Besides, he's brilliant at just about everything and…" He trailed off, suddenly looking hesitant.

I eyed him critically. "What'd you do?"

"I already told him that you agreed."

"What?"

"Essie, I know you've been struggling with Chemistry, so I did you a favor and told James that you needed a little help."

I exhaled slowly, forcing a smile. "Thanks for thinking of me." However, I found it very difficult to appreciate his considerate gesture. Now James probably thought I was a moron who paid for her grades. Excellent.

When the last bell rang, signaling the end of school, I went straight to my locker to grab the last of the books that I needed. However, thoughts of long hours devoted to studying Chemistry rendered me utterly depressed. Thanks to my natural clumsiness, I rammed my right shoulder into the left shoulder of an innocent person who happened to walk by at a very inopportune moment. To my surprise, I did not hear a string of curse words following; instead, I found myself listening to a sincere apology and looking at a relieved face.

"Oh, there you are." James was standing right in front of me, all six feet of him. "I was looking for you. I was wondering if you wanted to start the whole tutoring thing after-school today."

I shook my head. "I can't. My mom's picking me up today, and I live twenty minutes away from the school."

"Oh, that's fine. I can give you a lift to my place, and we can work there."

Go to his house? The hallway felt uncomfortably warm all of a sudden, and I could not even think of a response. What was wrong with me? I was usually calm collected, always able to react without embarrassing myself (too much). Now, though, I was practically drowning in my own sweat—and I didn't like it one bit.

"Ester?"

"Huh?" I looked up. "Yeah, sure."

James looked baffled, but didn't push the matter any further.

An hour later, and I felt like we had made absolutely no progress. On top of it all, I seemed to have pushed James's patience to the maximum, since he was taking slow, deep breaths as if trying to refrain from shouting at me.

"Okay, let's try this again, a different approach." He wrote the following equation on a piece of paper:

3H2 N2 à 2NH3

"Now," he explained, "if you add more hydrogen gas, what will happen?"

I ran the smooth plane of my fingernail against the edge of my top front tooth. "Um…"

James sighed. "Think of it this way. If someone gave you a million dollars, what would you do?"

"Duh." I looked at him as if he were daft. "I would save it for college, of course. Or pay off the rest of the damn expensive school tuition."

He clearly did not appreciate my reply. "Okay, then. I'll try something else. What's your least favorite food?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Macaroni and cheese."

"If someone gave you a whole plate of macaroni and cheese, and asked you to eat up, what would you do?"

"Give it to Andy as fast as I could. Man, that girl can chow down at least three plates full of that awful stuff."

"Exactly! So, if you put more hydrogen in, that creates a stress in the system at equilibrium, does it not?"

"Yes."

"So, you'd want to get rid of some of the hydrogen, right? Since you have too much of it?"

"Right."

"Then, the reaction would shift to the right in order to get rid of the excess hydrogen. Now do you get it?"

I bit my lip, looking at the equation, and imagining the scenario that he had placed in front of me. Suddenly, the information that seemed like a bowl of salad, tossed with too many different items in a haphazard manner, suddenly turned into a cake, each slice uniformly distributed with icing and cream.

"Wow," I gasped, seeing the once-daunting equation in a new light. "You're right. This is like magic. You're brilliant, James!" I forgot about my grudge against him. If he was able to make a concept that seemed inconceivably murky to me for a whole year into one that made perfect sense—well, then, I could not hold that resentment toward him for long. My woes of failing Chemistry were disappearing. Maybe I would not fail the final, and disappoint myself. Even my self-esteem was starting to rise.

"I'd hardly say brilliant," replied James, "but you're getting it. And, hey, that's a start."

Another hour later, and I felt as though James were even more ingenious than Einstein. He was somehow able to relate every single Chemistry concept to real-life situations. Increasing the surface area of a solute allows it to dissolve faster in the solvent. Why? Well, if you assigned five kids the same task, they would complete it in a shorter amount of time than if you only assigned the task to one kid. Why is positive entropy favored over negative? Well, although most people would like to have world peace, the world is constantly in a state of disorder. Wars in the Middle East, economy depressions…it almost seems as though the real world, like the Chemistry world, tends toward chaos.

"Is this why you know everything in Chemistry?" I asked in awe, after we seemed to have exhausted every single troublesome topic.

James shrugged. "Maybe. But you shouldn't worry about the final. After all, you're Ester."

I stared at him. "So?"

"Ester is a carbon compound. Your name reeks of Chemistry. Just that fact makes your future in science pretty promising."

A slow smile formed on my lips. "You never cease to amaze me. You can even make a connection between Chemistry and my name. I've always hated my name. It just sounds so old, like I'm seventy years old or something. It's a little disheartening to be sixteen and yet feel like you're sixty years older."

James shook his head. "Your name is fine. You know, I think we've formed a pretty good team here. Like hydrogen and oxygen, making water."

"Water." I shuddered. "Mrs. Stein practically worships it."

"But it's special. It has hydrogen bonding, the strongest attractions between molecules. Hydrogen and oxygen are so tightly bound to each other that it takes so much energy to break them apart. I don't know about you, but it sort of sounds like a soul mate thing, really. You know, how there's that one person out there who's meant to be with you. And when you've found him or her, you're a complete person, and nothing, not even death, will tear the both of you apart."

"Wow. That's deep. So what're you trying to say? That we're soul mates?"

"Well, no." He flushed. "But we can find out."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

And after he said that? Well, let's just say that all my worries over finals seemed to have disappeared for a few blissful minutes. As for Chemistry? I was certain that the final for that class would be my best grade yet. James was able to make Chemistry come to life for me—in so many different ways. Sure, there were the concepts themselves. In addition, he initiated hydrogen bonding. We were hydrogen and oxygen, unable to break apart. Maybe it was a little too soon, with finals coming up and all. However, I decided to take the plunge. After all, I was Ester, and without me, a little bit of Chemistry would not be the same. If that fact did not boost my confidence up, I did not know what would.

THE END

A/N: Wow. Another weird and pointless story that I've cranked out. Hey, I'm on a roll here! This is what happens when I'm away from textbooks and homework for too long...I begin creating stories that relate to school. Oh, well. Only four more weeks until I return to the dreaded institute. Might as well make the best of the rest of my summer. Anyway, if you feel like flaming my story, refrain from doing so. Just telling me that it's bad is fine. No need to start ranting. Please. I like nice people :)