"What do you think Luke's going to say?" Cearra whispered, holding out hope for our last remaining ally. "I don't know," I said, thinking about how Luke wasn't the solution to the Bianca problem. She was on a whole other level. "I'm coming to Dubai," Cearra told me. She'd been convinced that her parents would never allow her to go. This was the first time I heard her say yes. "For Austin?" I asked, wondering how their ship was doing after that storm. "For you," Cearra answered, "You need backup to deal with that b*tch." ** ~Computer labs~ Joe was having the time of his life. He was working on a new math quiz as if there'd be a magical experience at the end of it. I want whatever he's on. "Hey Joe," I said, with my pen in my hand. I was still puzzling through question number one and my brain was not feeling it. The computer labs felt isolated from the madness outside. Meanwhile, Joe was scribbling numbers across the page like he was painting art. "I lost my job," I said. I hadn't been able to say it to anyone yet. It was embarrassing to admit, but I felt like Joe wouldn't judge. I also felt like there was a good chance Joe wouldn't even hear. But he looked up from his beloved math quiz and asked, "Did you want it?" I never thought of that. When I got fired, I skipped the rational thinking and went straight to sad. "No," I admitted, "Not the job, but I wanted the salary." "Then apply for a new one," he said, practical as ever. I didn't have any references and it was the middle of the year. Who would hire me? "Math tutor," he suggested, pointing at the work we were doing, "Then you could do this every day and it'd be good practice for the next competition." I never thought of that. I never thought I'd be good enough for that. I didn't know how so I asked, "How?" "You're a mathlete and I'm guessing you have good math grades. You could teach freshman," he added, "Become a student math teacher. I can recommend you." I thanked him for his kindness. But Joe didn't think he was being kind. He thought he was being fair. ** ~Dupont Avenue~ I was studying at Luke's desk. His room was empty, with no distractions. His desk was under a window that overlooked the backyard. I kept it open, despite the cold winter air, just so I could hear him play. He was in his backyard, playing basketball solo. I'd hear the occasional swoosh of the net or bounce on the backboard. Sometimes his sneakers would skid against the ground. I tried hard to focus. It took a lot of restraining my urges from climbing over the desk and staring down at him playing. I liked listening to him exercise. The sounds he made... Instead, I stared down at the white page in front of me. I don't know why I thought I'd do this better with paper than a laptop. I was trying to channel Shakespeare for my English essay, but the closest I got was my doodle of a cauldron. Where does he keep his eraser? I looked in the desk drawers for his stationary. Yeah, this'll make me feel like I'm being productive... wasting time searching for stationary. It's a homework related activity. "Luke!" I yelled out the window, "Eraser?" I pressed my hands onto the desk and leaned over, looking out. He stood with the ball in one arm, staring up, shirtless. He raised a hand to cover his eyes from the sun. I watched his abs contract with the movement. "Desk drawer," he answered, waiting to make sure I heard it. I blew him a kiss and forced myself away from the tempting view. "Drawer?" I repeated to myself. I'd already checked his desk drawer. I stretched myself and reached for the drawer on his bedside table. I opened it and slammed it shut. Oh. No. I should've seen it coming. I should've expected that. Little shiny packets scattered within the drawer. Little, shiny, square packets. Condoms. How do I unsee? Luke had never mentioned it, but he has a sexual history. Week one of summer camp he'd brought Tamara back to our cabin and... today at school Bianca had reminded me. He hadn't mentioned sex once since we started dating. But he must be thinking it. The door opened and Luke came in. "Did you...?" he saw me sitting guiltily in the chair, halfway between the bed and the desk. He must have run upstairs after I asked him for the erasers. "Wrong drawer," I said. "I figured." ** Luke had asked to take me on a date, somewhere special. I got dressed for it in his room, since we'd started to leave clothes behind in each other's rooms. He'd left me to get dressed in private, to put on some make up and to think. My job, Bianca, the blackmailer. Maybe they were all connected. After all, things started going wrong when the blackmailer started leaving threatening messages, stealing my mother's necklace, painting our door. Things started going wrong after Luke and I started. Bianca obviously had reason to hate that. Luke knocked on his own bedroom door. He opened it and saw me wearing what I thought was a good winter date outfit. White turtleneck and blue jeans. "You look beautiful as always," he said. He had showered in Jake's bathroom. He was already dressed and ran a towel through his hair, shaking it dry. I stood nervously by the desk. I don't know why I still get nervous in front of him. The butterflies still emerge. "Let's move on from the rubber incident," Luke smirked, obviously amused by the whole situation. We hadn't talked about the condoms, but eventually we'd have to talk about the wider subject. I think. He walked over to me and lifted my hand from the paper it was holding onto. My rotten English essay. "You look nice," I told him. "Are you ready?" I had no idea where he was taking me. We walked down the stairs and passed his disapproving parents. We got into his car and he drove us off Dupont Avenue. I wanted to ask him about Bianca, about her being the blackmailer... but sometimes, I need to read the room. This was the beginning of a beautiful date. Why strike an uncomfortable conversation that would sour the tone? This date was about us and no one else. There's a time and place for everything else. We drove past a sign and I did a double take as I read it. We'd been here once before. Of all places, I never expected us to come here. "You wanted me to be more open," Luke told me, glancing at my bewildered expression in the passenger seat, "That's what I'm going to show you Minnie; a part of me I keep private." He parked the car.