Even later on Sunday
He hadn't been waiting for her – not exactly – but when her icon appeared as 'online' he felt as if he had been. He sent her a message straight away.
CracKing: Hey, Thermopolis. What happened to you last night? It's like you went mental, or something.
He congratulated himself on his lack of tact.
FtLouie: For your information, I did not go mental. I just got tired of your sister always telling me what to do. Not that it's any of your business.
He got tired of his sister always telling him what to do, but he didn't blow up in her face about it. Mind you, he had had years to hone his come-back skills.
CracKing: What are you being so snotty about? Of course it's my business. I have to live with her, don't I?
He did. He could still feel Lilly's anger radiating through the walls, like she was some thermonuclear reactor just waiting to go into meltdown again.
FtLouie: Why? Is she talking about me?
She had been screaming.
CracKing: You could say that.
FtLouie: What's she saying?
Did she really want to know? He couldn't help but tease her.
CracKing: I thought it wasn't any of my business.
FtLouie: It isn't. What's she saying about me?
He liked this Mia. He obliged her.
CracKing: That she doesn't know what's with you these days, but ever since your dad came to visit, you've been acting like a head case.
He should have guessed her reaction.
FtLouie: Me? A head case? What about her? She's the one who's always criticizing me. I'm so sick of it! If she wants to be my friend, why can't she just accept me the way I am?
He smirked, taking the opportunity.
CracKing: No need to yell.
FtLouie: I'm not yelling!
CracKing: You're using excessive amounts of punctuation, and on-line, that's like yelling. Besides, she's not the only one criticizing. She says you won't support her boycott of Ho's Deli.
He felt like an intermediary.
FtLouie: Well, she's right. I won't. It's stupid. Don't you think it's stupid?
Of course he did. Lilly was always doing something stupid. But now he didn't care so much about what had passed in the conversation, he wanted to move on to something else. The idea had come to him earlier, and it had been a good one.
CracKing: Sure, it's stupid. Are you still flunking Algebra?
Not a clean-cut segue, but it was all he had. A fluttering erupted in his belly.
FtLouie: I guess so. But considering the fact that Mr G slept over last night, I'll probably scrape by with a D. Why?
That threw him for a loop.
CracKing: What? Mr G slept over? At your place? What was that like?
Waking up to find your Algebra teacher at the kitchen table? No, thanks.
FtLouie: It was pretty awful. But then he kind of joked around, and made it okay. I don't know. I should probably be more mad, but my mom's so happy, it's hard.
He could understand that. He couldn't understand how they were having such a normal, intimate conversation though – they always had things to talk about together, yes, but it had never felt so…right before.
He stopped himself before he began analysing things too thoroughly.
CracKing: Your mom could do a lot worse than Mr G. Imagine if she was going out with Mr Stuart.
Handsy. Very handsy.
FtLouie: Ha ha ha. Why'd you want to know whether or not I'm flunking Algebra?
The fluttering came back full-force. He went for a casual start.
CracKing: Oh, because I'm done with this month's issue of Crackhead, and I thought if you wanted, I could tutor you during G & T. If you wanted.
Too many 'if you wanted's… Too late to take one back…
Why the hell was he so nervous? He was just helping out his little sister's best friend.
FtLouie: Wow, that would be great! Thanks!
She had said yes. Yes. It was almost too good to be true, until he realised he had only offered to be her Algebra tutor – it wasn't anything life-changing…no matter how much it kind of felt like it.
CracKing: Don't mention it. Hang in there, Thermopolis.
He signed off before he could say anything to ruin his moment of victory.
