How You Get the Girl

Still No Boyfriend but I Do Have a New Math Tutor. Yay me?

I was sitting with Ben at his kitchen table the next day because yes, I was just that pathetic. I needed a break from the guy but when he texted and asked if I wanted to come over and work on the game I ended up at his house again even though I had sworn would stay away from him all weekend. But here I was spending Saturday afternoon with him. And we did need to work on our game. It was taking more time to complete than I had thought it would. Who knew making a video game was so complicated? Ben was still being really patient about teaching me how to do it, even when I messed up. I looked over at Ben and noticed something. I reached over and pushed up his t-shirt sleeve without thinking.

"You have a tattoo," I said, surprised. We were seniors. You could get a tattoo when you turned 18. Some guys had gotten them but not a lot. I was surprised that Ben was such a rebel. It was a geometric pattern around his bicep. I had not noticed it before because, even wearing a t-shirt, his shirt sleeve usually covered it but it had ridden up. It was black and looked large, circling his bicep and disappearing under his shirt. I wondered how far up his arm it went. I realized my hand was still on his arm. I snatched it away self-consciously, blushing slightly.

"I got it last year when I turned eighteen," Ben said shortly.

"You're nineteen?" I asked.

"Not yet, my birthday is in May. My parents didn't want me to be young for my class," he explained.

"I don't turn eighteen until June. I've always been the youngest in my class. You're lucky your parents held you back. It's not fun to be the baby," I answered. But I did not want to focus the conversation on my age, it had been a pain always being the youngest in my class. I was always the last to get to do everything. I returned to the topic of his tattoo, "Why did you pick that pattern?"

"It's a fractal pattern," he said.

"What's that?" I asked

"They are complex patterns that are self-similar across different scales," he answered.

Right, I had no idea what he was talking about. Not an unusual experience for me around Ben. "It's is really cool looking," I told him. "I don't think I could ever get a tattoo. I hate needles." I reached over to touched his tattoo, again.

"You have your ears pierced. One is even double pierced," he answered.

He had noticed that my ear was double pierced? I thought. Of course, he had noticed. He's looking right at you, I reminded myself. It means nothing.

"They used a gun for my ears. No visible needles. I can barely get a flu shot," I told him. "I'm really kind of a wimp."

"It's okay, not everyone like needles," he said.

Amazing work, Harper. Just perfect. You have just confessed to him that you are not only the youngest girl in your class but you are a complete coward. Just how pathetic can you make yourself seem? Why don't you confess that barely drink, that pink is your favorite color and that you've never been past second base with a boy to just complete your humiliation? Yes, that's me, Harper Gregory, showing how she is the least sexy girl in the school.

Fortunately, Kenzie came in and demanded that Ben help her with her math homework. I got to work with the art for our computer project. At least I could do that well.

An hour later, Kenzie headed off to an AP Chemistry study group and Ben and I were back to working together on our computer game when I took a minute to check my email.

I opened an email from my math tutor and I started to panic. This could not be happening to me.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked.