The Mathematics of Love ✔

Chapter 12

Looking back on Homecoming night, I had to admit I might have overreacted when I flipped out on Alexander. Just a little. Maybe the yelling was over the top. The dramatic, heel-turning, hair-tossing exit was definitely a little out there.

With the way Louisa and Amelia were treating me, though, you would’ve thought I had crucified Alexander and left him tied to the back of a pickup truck for dead.

“I still can’t believe how badly you treated poor Alexander on Homecoming night,” Louisa sighed melodramatically as the three of us struggled to figure out trig substitution together. “Don’t you realize how many girls would have killed to be you that night?”

“Why are we still talking about stuff that happened three weeks ago?” I snapped. Between homework and tests and projects and all my freaking college applications, my patience, which was always thin these days, was dangerously close to running out.

“Because I need to keep repeating myself until the message sinks in, Nancy.”

I looked to Amelia for help, but she was scrolling through her phone and barely paying attention. When she realized both Louisa and I had gone quiet to stare at her, Amelia finally just shrugged at me and chewed on the end of her pencil thoughtfully.

“You did treat Alexander pretty badly,” she reflected.

I scowled. “He deserved it.”

“For what, being chivalrous? Helping out a fellow competitor? Looking out for the girl he likes?”

I snorted. “Alexander definitely doesn’t like me. And besides, all those are just nicer ways of saying that he thinks my intelligence is beneath his and that we can’t compete on the same level.”

“C’mon, that’s not even close. Do you have to overanalyze everything?” Louisa groaned.

I felt my temper start to flaree a little. “I’m not overanalyzing. I’m being practical. I don’t need a guy who can’t even see me on the same level as him,” I said sourly.

Louisa sighed melodramatically and then threw me a disgusted look. “Seriously, do you hear yourself?” she demanded. “You sound like every freaking cliche feminist ever.”

“Yeah? That’s great. That’s better than throwing myself at the first thing with male organs that comes by.”

Louisa rolled her eyes. “Geez, you know what your problem is? You’re always getting so high-strung over the insignificant little things. Not just boys, either. Grades. Extracurriculars. Competitions. Learn to chill once in a while.”

For a moment, I was taken aback by the sudden iciness in Louisa’s tone, but I recovered myself in time. “Excuse me?” I snapped.

“Hey,” Amelia said, leaning in warily right into the line of fire between Louisa and me. “You guys aren’t seriously fighting over this, are you?”

Were we? I glared at Louisa. I didn’t know if we were fighting for real now, but I sure as heck wasn’t going to pretend her words hadn’t stung. “I’m not high strung. And even if I were, it’s better to be high strung about grades than a failure in school like you are.”

I knew in an instant that I’d gone too far. I'd way overstepped the line. I wanted to take the words back immediately, but it was too late. The damage was done.

“Nancy! What are you saying?” Amelia gasped, slapping a hand over my mouth. She turned desperately to Louisa. “Don’t listen to a word of that nonsense. It’s the college app stress talking.”

Amelia was way too late. I could tell Louisa didn’t buy it. Her face turned a deep shade of red, and she clenched her jaw tightly.

“Fine,” she spat out at last, her voice shaking. “You know what? It’s fine. I’ll just leave.” Louisa stood up and began rapidly cramming her books and pens into her backpack, making a racket that caused the rest of the class to stare at her.