The Mathematics of Love ✔

Chapter 14

The next few days were a blur. Half the time I was angry, and the other half I was stressed to the max about my Harvard application. After I finally turned in that application, though, I found that I was too tired to feel angry anymore. I felt betrayed. Even though it made absolutely no sense, seeing Alexander and Louisa acting all lovey-dovey made me feel hurt. Depressed. Betrayed.

It was a mistake dumping all these feelings onto Amelia, though.

“Your situation sounds just like one of those dramas my mom always likes to watch,” she sighed at our two-person table during Calculus. “Love is never easy.”

I pressed my pencil so hard onto the paper that I broke the lead. “Love? What are you talking about now?” I snapped.

“Oh, nothing. Just hoping that some oblivious girl who is completely blind to her own feelings will learn a good lesson from all this.”

I raised my eyebrow. “You can’t possibly mean…?”

Amelia shrugged and gave me a mysterious smile. “Believe whatever you want about what I mean. Hey, can you help me on number twelve? I don’t understand how to…”

The rest of the day, it seemed like I kept running into Alexander or Louisa wherever I went. It was awkward now that I wasn’t speaking to either of them, and doubly awkward now that they were dating each other. But I knew I had no right to be angry at either of them for that. It wasn't like I had been dating or even wanted to date Alexander, right?

I want one thing out in the clear: I hadn’t held any expectations for Alexander. I hadn’t. I wasn’t one of those girls who romanticized love. Not even close. In fact, I was one of those girls who mad fun of the girls who romanticized love. I’d always thought that the girls who practically lived for true love were weak, self-serving, and vain. That was a direct quote from my English presentation.

Even so, I’d never dreamed that my first time being hit on by a guy would happen at one of my family’s lame Asian parties later that night. Unfortunately, life didn’t really care whether or not I approved of what it did.

“Look, uh, Dennis…” I said slowly.

The scruffy nineteen-year-old who I’d vaguely recognized from past parties winked at me, taking a step closer. I backed away and had to wonder how things had escalated to this extent. “My name is Daniel,” he clarified smoothly.

“Sure. Daniel…” I swallowed hard and tried not to show how nervous I was in front of some guy who I barely knew. “Uh…so…instead of doing…this…let’s go over there and have cake. Or play Go Fish. Or something.”

He smiled in a way that was obviously supposed to be inviting, but raised the hair on my arm instead. Daniel had been creeping me out since the moment he walked through the front doors, but only now that all the teens and kids had gone upstairs and the adults were in the middle of a loud conversation was he able to make a move. “Are you playing hard to get on purpose?” he said.

I nearly choked. “What? Are you delusional? Our parents are in the next room over!”

“C’mon, you were so eager to welcome me just a few minutes ago.”

“That’s because my family is hosting this family. I have to welcome everyone. It’s called common courtesy!”

Far from backing off at the hostility in my voice, Daniel smirked and came even closer to me. The scent of fresh pine filled my nostrils. “Where I come from, we have a different name for that,” he said. “It’s called flirting.”

I was so bewildered that I kept pinching myself, wondering if this was some kind of twisted dream. Since when did guys hit on me? Since when did the male species give me the time of day at all, unless it was to ask for my help on school projects or math tournaments?