Chapter 3

I am so engrossed in absent-mindedly tapping my pencil against the Periodic Table that I don't realize Holly has come home until she knocks on my open door.

"Hey," she says when I turn around with a gasp. "Sorry," she adds sheepishly seeing my shocked expression. "Can I come in?" At my nod, she settles herself on my bed, and I swivel in my desk chair to face her.

"So," she begins, and I know she's talked to Dad. "Do you want to talk?"

"Um, not really. I mean, there's not much to talk about."

"You're not the late, disorganized kind of person," Holly says, "I mean, look at this room! You make Monica look like…well, it's really clean," she finishes lamely.

I smile at the Friends reference—it's been off the air for almost 14 years, but it stands firmly in my mind as the best sitcom of all times; next to Seinfeld, of course. Whoops, Holly's talking again. I reluctantly wrench my mind from 90's television show comparisons.

"Anyway, what's going on?"

"I—don't really know. Nothing, really, I just am…late, I guess," I shrug. "Not in a pregnant way, either, and I'm not smoking pot or turning tricks on street corners before school," I add hastily. One thing I pride myself on is my ability to come up with quick-witted euphemisms from prostitution. I hope my quip has lightened the mood.

Holly raises one eyebrow, and I can tell she's amused in spite of herself. "Okay, well I'm here—we both are—if you need to talk about anything," she says with a smile. She stands up, "I'm going to start dinner."

"Okay, I'll come give you a hand when I'm done here," I say turning back to my book. "Oh, and Holly?" I add when she's in the doorway. "The firehouse—? Everyday after school?"

"Sorry, don't push it."

Reluctantly, I turn back to my work. After several more minutes of blank staring, I give up, figuring I'll finish my work tomorrow in study hall, possibly "referencing" Sarah's. I glance through my notebook, relieved to find that besides my project for gov, I have nothing more requiring immediate attention. Mercifully, we had a sub in calculus, and had a free period in which I finished my other homework.

I shoot an inquisitive look at my computer, momentarily transfixed as my screensaver catapults me through space. I decide to check my e-mail, on the off chance something besides my word-a-day is waiting there for me.

I log in and check my inbox. Nope, nothing except today's word. After learning that "wastrel" (WAY-struhl), a noun, is a person who wastes, especially one who squanders money, or an idler, loafer, or good-for-nothing, I check my Buddy List. I'm surprised to find Justin is logged on too.

kyliefuturemedic: hey what's up? thought you had practice

jumpinjackflash: nope cancelled. working on my gov project. how's yours coming?

kyliefuturemedic: pretty good, doing a polic ride-along tomorrow

jumpinjackflash: cool! be careful

kyliefuturemedic: thanx i'll keep that in mind :P

jumpinjackflash: what r u doing?

kyliefuturemedic: not much, just finished my hw. gonna help holly w/ dinner

jumpinjackflash: ok i gotta go too.

kyliefuturemedic: ok see you tomorrow xoxo

jumpinjackflash: bye ky xoxo

kyliefuturemedic: oh you...

jumpinjackflash: what? it rhymes!

I log off with a smile and feel myself drifting into a reflecting mood. This typically happens when I'm either very sad or taking a bath. Currently, I'm neither. All the same, I sit back in my chair and allow my mind to wander.

It's mid-October, and two weeks from now will mark my and Justin's ten month anniversary. We've come a long way in ten months, from when we met after winter break. He'd just moved to New York from Missouri, and had all of that small-town boyish charm. That, coupled with my big-city savvy, made us quite a pair. We've evolved from naïve teenagers to…sophisticated teenagers? (Or is that an oxymoron?) I think this whole reflecting business works better when I'm taking a bath.