The Mathematics of Love ✔

Chapter 20

A/N - Yes, it's been a while...yes, I'm still alive...and I think a recap is in order: Last chapter, Nancy's life, social or otherwise, became pretty much over. Then Kevin gave Nancy one hell of a lecture and yeah. Wow, this recap sucks. Sorry.

The next couple of weeks sucked—partially because I was getting dangerously close to my Harvard admissions decisions day, and partially because none of my friends were speaking to me.

Well, Patty and Margaret were, but that wasn’t exactly what I would call a silver lining in this situation.

“No, your legs are too short to pull that skirt off,” Margaret said during English class.

“They are not,” Patty retorted.

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Are too!”

“You’re just jealous because your legs look like frickin’ tree trunks.”

“Your mom looks like frickin’ tree trunks!”

Welcome to the senior class of high school.

I shoved my headphones into my ears and prayed my music would be loud enough to drown out those two and their mindless bickering for once, to no avail. I swear Patty’s voice could penetrate through a fortress wall.

“Nancy, do you think I’d look better in a shorter tennis skirt a longer one? Or maybe a medium length one? Or maybe—”

“I dunno. What does it matter?” I snapped at Patty in irritation, finally losing my last nerve. “Can’t you two just do your work in silence?”

Patty and Margaret exchanged their lightning fast look. “That time of month?” they asked in unison.

I might have really exploded on them if Mrs. Reed hadn’t called me up to her desk just then. Even then, I barely resisted the urge to stab my own eyeballs out with Margaret’s flowery pencil.

“Nancy, Nancy, Nancy.” As soon as I sat down and handed over the rough draft for my project, Mrs. Reed sighed and tapped her fingers on the desk. Not a good sign. Her face slowly slipped into a familiar pinched-up glare as she read through my paper. Also not a good sign. “Nancy…”

I gulped. “Yes?”

Mrs. Reed’s eyes were sharp enough to practically pierce my skin. “Did you even listen to my earlier advice about your project?”

“Yes…”

Her eyes squinted even more at me. “Then why are you still dead set on finding some kind of magical formula to explain love?”

“Well…”

“I can’t tell you how to do your project, but I can say that you’ll have an extremely tough time getting the grade you want at this rate.”

“Oh…”

As always, Mrs. Reed looked like she was building up a head full of steam, but then she must have seen how crumpled-looking and pathetic I looked (an accurate physical description of me these days). Her body seemed to deflate. “Are you feeling alright, Nancy? Your face looks awfully pale today.”

“Oh, I’m swell,” I deadpanned.

“…Swell?”

“Mrs. Reed, I actually don’t think I’m feeling that well all of a sudden,” I said, holding my stomach and wincing dramatically (Kevin’s not the only one in the Pang family with acting skills, let me tell you). “Can I go to the nurse’s office?”