Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CORALINE had once viewed Michael Langdon as a charity case, a person she knew she could help. She never liked to admit she was wrong in her decisions, but in this instance, maybe she really was.
She didn't expect to enjoy his presence. He was happy at the worst times and asked all the right questions with obvious answers. He didn't understand half the topics Coraline talked about, causing her to have to teach him more than she liked. She even helped him with his homework, because he was determined to finally pass his last year of homeschooling. Being near Michael was different – different than her former friends, and even more different than her new ones. He was like a child stuck in an eighteen-year-old's body.
Coraline was surprised her mom hadn't found out yet, or even her club members. It had been two weeks already. She knew that Francesca would find out on her own someday, but the day of reckoning wasn't upon them just yet. Coraline wondered how'd she explain her befriending a Satanist. "Oh, you know, it started out with just me helping him, but he's actually really nice!" Yeah, that could definitely work.
She sat with Michael at the small, wooden desk in his room. He was hunched over the desk, holding a pencil too close to his face as he ogled the problem on the page. Coraline sat back against the wall, her butt pressed to his desk as she scrolled through an app on her phone. She heard Michael groan from her right, but she didn't blink at the sound. He was trying to figure out a chemistry problem – one of her worst enemies, among other things.
And then his fist slammed on the desk. Coraline felt the whole room rattled.
"Whoa!" She exclaimed, putting out a hand. Casting her eyes across the room, she noticed everything was still. No rattling. Nothing at all. Coraline blinked rapidly and decided that her mind was playing tricks on her. She swallowed hard when she turned back to him. "What's the problem?"
His head suddenly snapped up, brows furrowing with anger. Michael scoffed and threw his pencil across the room. It landed in a pile he already made by the door. He didn't voice a word about his frustration, only crossed his arms over his chest. Coraline leaned forward and peered down at the homework Miriam had drafted for him.
She felt her stomach drop when she noticed the familiar-looking problem.
A 6.0 L sample at 25°C and 2.00 atm of pressure contains 0.5 mole of a gas. If an additional 0.25 mole of gas at the same pressure and temperature are added, what is the final total volume of the gas?
Coraline almost felt woozy. It was like she was back in junior year chemistry class, trying to finish that final exam. Just thinking of the vision made her head pound.
The visions – oh, God. What if Michael ever saw her in that state of mind? It had yet to happen with Eloise, Billy, or Greg, but ... what if? Michael was asking for her company on a regular basis now, saying how excited he was to have a friend to call on his house phone. There were so many ways for this to go wrong. However, when Michael Langdon sent her that famous, happy smile, she knew he was meant for great things. Maybe they could do great things together: the local Satanist and psycho (who was also the Soon-To-Be-Prom-Queen).
