"Bubbles, I'm coming over. Don't worry about a thing! Everything will be fine." Her voice sounds shaky and panicked. I don't know what's wrong with her. Before I can respond, she's hung up the phone. I hear the dial tone. I slowly set the phone back on the base.

I wonder what she's so freaked out about. It's not like her to just get scared for no reason. It's not like her to overreact either. People always said Ian overreacted, but I never thought it was true.

Poor Ian, it's no wonder he's been staying in our lab. His family life couldn't have been very great. He had never let me go to his house. He said he was ashamed of it. He never gave me an address or even any idea where his house was. He didn't have a driver's license or even a permit. He's led such a rough life.

Once in a while he would tell me a little about his family. Something here or there about his successful cousin who lives in Beverly Hills, and has a small apartment. Or it might be about how all of his siblings were lucky enough to already have moved out. He always hated being the youngest sibling. He was always picked on.

He used to tell me little bits and pieces about his mom - how she'd drink herself into a stupor every night in front of Jeopardy, and then shout out answers that made no sense at all, like, "Fandarf." He also used to tell me that on most days she was drunk within an hour of being awake. He told me I could never meet her, because the last time a brother brought home a girl, their mom chased her around with a broom. He could never even mention any of the things his father did. I know that they don't even know he's gone. They think he's in his room, probably grounded for being too young to buy them alcohol.

Before I can think too much more about Ian, I hear the familiar knock. Tasha is here and she walks right in. It's what she always does. She walks over to me. I'm still just standing in the kitchen, next to the phone. She must not have called from school. She must have been pretty close to getting here.

She gives me a tight hug and tells me not to worry. I'm so confused. I don't know what I'm supposed to be worried about. "The Professor called me and told me what was going on. He said to hurry over here." I give her a look of total confusion. I ask her what she thinks is going on. She quickly explains, "The Professor said that you were sobbing uncontrollably. You found out about Jake and couldn't stop crying. I had to wait until the end of my class before I could come over and make sure you were okay. You seem all right to me though. In fact, you almost look happy! I don't know what to make of that."

I am still utterly confused. The Professor doesn't know Tasha's cell phone number, does he? Wouldn't he have had Blossom and Buttercup come home with Tasha, too? I'm so confused. What is going on here? As these thoughts are running through my head, Tasha is looking at me, waiting for a response. I realize I've been silent for quite a while now. Before I have time to respond though, the Professor walks in.

He does a slight double take when he sees Tasha in the house, and glances at his watch. "Shouldn't you be in school Tasha? It's just barely lunch time."

She looks up at him in disbelief. "You called and asked me to come home and take care of Bubbles. You said she was crying about Jake. I rushed over as quickly as I could."

The Professor furrows his eyebrows. I can tell that he doesn't like the sound of what Tasha just said. He starts, "Tasha, what phone did you receive that call on? Was it your cell phone?" She slowly nods in response, he goes on to say, "I don't know your cell phone number, so someone else must have been pretending to be me." Sometimes the Professor makes me laugh. He says things that are so obvious.

Tasha seems utterly lost. Maybe it was a good thing Professor told us that. Maybe she hadn't realized that yet. "Professor," I say, "Don't worry. It was probably just a wrong number, or something." After saying that I remember that they had specifically been pretending to be the Professor. Tasha rolls her eyes at me and calls me a dork.

The Professor tells us to go upstairs, and stay in my room until it's safer. Someone knows that I'm here, and they wanted Tasha to be here too. The Professor's worry is making me more worried. I can tell that Tasha is a little worried too. I know she doesn't want to be mixed up in all this.

We go upstairs and sit in my room. She plops down on the fuzzy purple area rug, and I sprawl out on the light blue carpet next to her. She turns to me and asks, "Well, who do you think called me then? Do you think it was Ian? I mean, we know it wasn't Jake, and who else would be calling?"

I just shrug. I don't honestly have any idea why someone would want Tasha to be at my house. I think back to Ian's strong, devoted words - "I need to be a priority in your life." Maybe I need to prove my love to him. Maybe this is why he would have Tasha come over. How do I prove my love to him though? What does he want from me? I don't want to do this wrong.

I think back to when we were both in the lab. He really didn't give me enough information. I rub my side where he kicked me. It's really sore right now. Neither Tasha nor I have spoken in easily three minutes.

She looks at me. I look at her. "Tasha, go home. I'm fine, honestly. The Professor is here, and I'm feeling really tired. I have homework I should be doing, and I have a book I need to read." I try to think of all the excuses I can.

"Oh, that reminds me." She pulls out a stack of papers. "I brought your homework. I took notes in the classes I have with you, and put them in there. Just remember, Bubbles, if you ever need someone to talk to, or even just a hug, I'm here for you. I love you, and I'll help you get through this." She gives me another hug, and slowly pulls herself up, using the back of my desk chair. She winks at me and goes to walk out the door.

When she reaches the door, and opens it, I see her get very shaky, and fall through the doorway, into the hallway. I rush to her side - not quite sure to make of the situation. I call out to the Professor for help, but am not returned with an answer. Fear jolts my whole body. I need to help her.