The breath before the plunge.

pH = -log[H+], apparently.

A silent tension lay on the group surrounding a table in the library. Sounds from outside their little bubble were suppressed, inside the turning of a page or a frenzied scribble in a margin echoed off imaginary walls.

Some nickel chloride cell passed about electrons in a diagram.

Geoff sighed. This was how a slug feels as a steamroller bears down upon it. Sarah was complaining about how little revision she had done, displaying reams of notes highlighted and annotated. Geoff flicked through a textbook. The lines and pictures held no meaning, although a scent of contempt wafted up to him, as if the very paper rejected him.

But he had an unconditional acceptance to a Physics course. Physics, now there was a subject that made sense, well, except for SHM, but he was working on that. V equalled f x λ and that was that. Mostly.

None of these silly wavenumbers and using the wrong characters for things. If the scientists would stop being Prima-Donnas and talk to each other the world would be a better place.

                                                        Focus!

Right, so what =pH?

                                                                            damn.

Why did he feel so terrified by failure? He had a guaranteed future in a Uni with plenty of hot girls and rock climbing groups, potentially both simultaneously. Even so... the shame of an effectively wasted year.

Wait! It wasn't at all wasted! He may have not done his homework or paid attention to a great degree, but it had been fun. That counts, and a little knowledge about electrons as seen by chemists would be of benefit to a physicist.

It was all good, but he couldn't relax. To think at the beginning of the year he had been joint top of the class with Eric, competing for the end-of-year award. He shook his head. Things had been simpler then. He had been young, and his soul free and full of enthusiasm. The year wore on, and the enthusiam wore down.

Now he was a husk of a teen, bereft of energy, about to be swept away by the uncaring hand of the SQA's fiendish exam-demon.

Too... many... metaphors... too little chemistry.

Geoff took a deep breath and began collecting his pencils.

The End

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