32

I've never been really flirty and seductive, so it isn't a surprise for me that a second boyfriend doesn't come around. But it's okay. I can finally really concentrate on not failing my classes.

I realize that I enjoy the single life. Maybe even more than being in a couple. I can wear whatever clothes. I can say whatever comes to mind without worry. I can do whatever I want, and I love it.

Sure, I miss having someone to rely on, and I miss cuddling with someone who loves you. I miss the kisses and the loving gestures that Tom did for me.

But I've been single my whole life except for those two months. I think I can handle being alone for a few more years.

It's a couple of weeks after the breakup, and I'm as confident as ever. Tom is out of my mind completely, and I won't hesitate to share my pleasure when a hot dude passes by. I laugh with my friends and read books.

Everything is back to normal.

"My place tonight?" Suzy says one Friday afternoon. "I was planning to watch a romantic movie and eat popcorn anyway, and it's always more fun when your friends are there," she jokes. "You can even sleep over is you want."

"Sounds great. I'll be there," I say immediately.

"Same," Karen says.

"Yay! Girls night out!" Sarah says cheerfully.

"Technically, it's a girls night in," I correct, and Karen smiles.

"Great, my house at seven-thirty. We have enough beds and bedsheets, so just bring your pajamas and beauty set," Suzy tells us.

"Perfect," I say just when the bell rings.

I arrive at Suzy's house at exactly seven-thirty, but Sarah and Karen are already there. We instantly change into our pajamas before getting some popcorn ready and slipping under a big blanket and turning on a movie. The film is pretty good, but I keep glancing at Karen, who's looking at her phone, smiling and texting.

Nothing unusual. Karen often has a temporary boyfriend. The unusual thing is that she hasn't talked about it. When she hooks up with someone, she usually brags about it: it's pretty weird, but it's her way to show she trusts us.

This time though, she hasn't said a thing. I figure she's probably just texting a friend.

I keep watching the movie, and I'll admit that I shed a few tears at the end. Nevertheless, the film was overall amazing.

The girls and I talk for almost two hours before deciding to go to sleep. Karen is sleeping on the bed beside mine. She's still texting, and I can't help but peek at her phone. She immediately notices and shuts it off. As if nothing had happened, she smiles at me and says, "Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight," I answer, but I'm actually a little troubled. I didn't have time to read the name of the person she was texting, but I was able to read the last message. It said: Goodnight, babe. Can't wait to see U tomorrow.

I'm a little troubled by Karen's message. She clearly wasn't texting a friend or a family member, unless they have really weird nicknames for each other. The only possible explanation would be a boyfriend, or simply just a lover. But it's a little peculiar that she hasn't said anything to me.

When I get home the next day, I undo my bag. I pull out my book and place it on the bookshelf when the book 'A wrinkle in time' catches my eye. Tom had made me borrow the book when we were still a couple, and it's probably time I give it back. I decide to go to his house the next day: I'm really tired now and I want to stay home and do nothing.

And I do exactly that. I spend the day sitting either on my bed reading or at my desk writing. The only time I do something other than those two activities is when Karen starts texting me.

Hey, Emma

How are U doing?

I write back.

I'm good, you?

Good, she texts.

Well, sort of. Could you help me w/ math?

Sure, I write. When? Tomorrow afternoon?

Nah, I'm busy tomorrow afternoon. Doctor's appointment

Oh, so morning? I ask.

Awesome thanks

On my phone, under Karen's name, the writing changes from 'online' to 'last seen today at 14.37', so I turn off my phone.

I still think Karen is acting weird. She texted me that she has a doctor's appointment, but I remember her visiting her doctor only a week ago. I don't want to go against her, but I think she made up the doctor's appointment thing because she's hiding something. Why does everyone have a secret these days?

The rest of the day I spend trying to figure out Karen, but all I have is 'she's only using me for math's homework'. It could be true, but I'm not sure. She hasn't been acting distant at school or anything, so I don't know what to think.

The next morning I go to Karen's house with my math stuff. She greets me normally, with a big smile and a hug.

"I'm sorry, but I really suck at math," she says. "I'm totally going to get an F on the test."

"No, you won't," I encourage her. "We just need to exercise a bit."

"A bit?" she asks sarcastically.

"Well, maybe more than a bit," I answer.

Karen laughs before sitting at the table and pulling out her stuff. We work for about an hour non-stop, and Karen seems to acquire more confidence with every new exercise. By the end of the sixty minutes, she's solving problems left and right.

"So now, all I have to do is multiply these two," she explains. "And then divide the result by three point twenty-seven, right?"

"Right," I say. "See? You're great at math! You were just a little rusty before."

"No, I always sucked at math, but you're a really good teacher," Karen says.

"Aw, thanks."

"No, I'm serious. You should teach Mrs. Kerr how to teach. You could be a teach teacher," Karen suggests, then laughs at her own joke.

"I don't know," I say. "People have told me that I'm a good teacher before, but I've always wanted to work with animals or nature. Teaching hasn't really been in my plan," I explain.

"Well, do what you want, but you're the greatest teacher," Karen says. "Just so you know."

"Thanks," I say quietly. "What about you? What do you want to do after high school?"

"College," Karen says immediately, "But then I don't know. Maybe a nurse. I've always wanted to own a restaurant."

"Oh, that's awesome," I say. "You like to cook?"

"A little, yeah."

"That's so cool, I can barely cook pasta," I say. "It's impossible to make myself some lunch when I'm alone."

Karen laughs. "I can teach you a couple of things if you want."

"Yes," I say firmly. "Or I'll starve myself."

Karen laughs again. "No problem. But…" she hesitates. "Is this correct? The results are really weird and ugly."

"What's the result you found?" I ask.

"One hundred and fifty-two point thirty-three," Karen says, and I cringe.

"Yeah, that's definitely wrong," I say as I look at the result on the sheet of paper.

"What should the result be?" Karen asks.

"Three."

"Oh, crap," Karen curses. We have to redo the problem a few times before we can actually solve it correctly. Seriously, why do teachers only give you the result of the exercise and not the steps to solve it? It's really confusing and irritating.

We do a couple of more exercises before Karen has to leave.