“He does?” Mr. Donnelly is the Key Club advisor. I’m sure it’s nothing, just some last-minute reminders about the book project, but it’s yet another thing between me and my car. I pull on a smile. “Thanks, Ellie. See you Sunday.”
Three interruptions later, we finally reach the empty computer lab. Silvia inserts a thumb drive and pulls up her lab report. My chest tightens when I look at the screen. She’s normally a good student, but her equations are a mess. This isn’t going to be simple or fast. I look at the clock and pull out chairs.
“Silvie, this is kind of …”
“A disaster?” she suggests. Laughs. Then drops her head into her hands. “Ugh, I know! I was just so distracted!”
“Well, it shouldn’t take us too long. Let’s get started.” I scroll down the pages looking for something to compliment. I know from yearbook that Silvia needs to hear something positive before a negative. “Your conclusion is solid; we just need to swap around some of the chemical names and results in the procedure so they match.”
“Yeah, I copied most of that from Izzie. I just couldn’t pay attention today!”
“Then we’ll need to change the wording, or Mr. Leland will notice.” I take the mouse and start this process.
She sighs. “Sorry! You’re probably totally impatient to get out of here. But, honestly, this is not my fault. Anyone would have flaked in my situation.” She looks at me and raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to ask.
I swallow my sigh and let go of the mouse. “Everything okay?”
“Adrian! Forrester!” She says this like it’s an answer, but I’m not sure how it matches my question. When I shrug, she continues. “Do you know him? Super tall? Super blond? Super hot? Both our lab partners were absent, so Mr. Leland paired us up for this …”
She stops talking and stares dreamily at the computer screen.
“And?” I prompt.
“Oh! And nothing.” She frowns. “But, gah, he’s too adorable! He’s wearing this yellow polo today, with a blue stripe that is the exact same color as his eyes. How am I supposed to pay attention when he’s wearing that? And he was telling Max at the next table about his new car—he just got his license. I’d die to be his copilot!”
I don’t have time to be relationship therapist and chemtutor, so I offer the obvious solution and hope we can move on. “So, why don’t you ask him out?”
Silvia laughs and plays with the mouse. “Yeah, right! We’re not all you. I could never. When it comes to Adrian, I’m just … hopeless!”
I’m not going to bite this time. I’m not going to play Who’s More Popular or list the reasons any guy would be lucky to date her. I know she expects this, and it would only take a blink to conjure up the words.
But I can’t. I just can’t.
“Well, then, let’s focus on something less hopeless, like getting you an A on this lab.”
It’s kinder than what I’m thinking—it must be nice to have your biggest problem be a hot lab partner—but my tone is sharper than I intend.
Silvia’s face crumples. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you. You can go. I’ll—I’ll stop being so stupid and figure it out.”
My stomach clenches. Hurting her feels like punching myself in the gut. “Oh, Silvie, I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” I give her a one-armed hug and say what I should have said the first time. “Any guy would be lucky to have someone as adorable, funny, and wonderful as you. Your snickerdoodles alone would make most guys drool—combine those with how pretty you are, and how nice? If Adrian hasn’t noticed, then he’s the one who’s stupid.”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” But there aren’t exclamation points on these sentences. She turns her face toward the screen. “I’ll get started so you can get out of here.”
I’m trying not to watch the clock, and not to guess how long everything will take. I’m impatient—I don’t want to keep repeating myself for Silvia or go make small talk with Mr. Donnelly—and knowing that makes me feel worse. I adore Silvie. I like tutoring. I love organizing service projects.
At least, I usually do. I should probably apologize again, make sure she’s okay, but she’s finally focusing on the computer screen and it’s taking all my energy not to clench my hands into fists, so I don’t interrupt.
“Great!” I tell her. “You’re getting it.”
My job is purely moral support, company, and prompts to keep going. A talking doll could do this job—probably better than I could, since a doll wouldn’t have snapped at Silvia. A doll wouldn’t make Silvia feel like she had to apologize for every question or thank me for every answer.
It takes me until she hits print to convince her that I don’t mind, that she’s not stupid, and really, I’m not annoyed with you. How could anyone be annoyed with you?
Silvia thanks me again, and hugs me. “I mean it, B. You’re the best! I’m so glad I don’t have to worry about this over the weekend.”
“Anytime.” I hug her back. “But I should get going if I’m going to catch Mr. Donnelly before he leaves.”
As I walk down the hall I catch sight of a tall guy wearing a yellow polo with a blue stripe standing at a locker. I’m only two doors from Mr. Donnelly’s room, but I’m still suffocating on computer lab guilt, so I pause and smile at him.