“Zach! What are you doing?” I hissed to my lab partner as slipped my mentos into the root beer bottle. It exploded and hit his face, but he was far too busy chowing down on his buttery, greasy, trans-fat filled chicken ‘n’ biscuits from KFC .

“You know we’re not supposed to eat during a lab!”

“Dude, all it is is mentos and root beer-which are both, I might add, perfectly edible.”

I flushed strawberry-red at his response. I had a ridiculous crush on him, and all I wanted was for him to like me back. His dirty blond hair was now spotted with root beer stains, and his celery-green eyes were wide and innocent even as chicken crumbs fell into the sink.

Just then, my phone rang. I hurriedly wiped off my hands to answer it, attempting to ignore Zach’s look that said something along the lines of “hypocrite.”

“Hey!” she said loudly. Oops. I had accidentally pressed speakerphone. “Did anything happen between you and Zach?”

He froze.

I hung up on my friend and grabbed the bathroom pass.