—So... a line integral or a curve integral is an integral where the function to be integrated is evaluated along a path or curve, I repeat, looking at Jenna across the room.

Three weeks had passed since the last turbulent encounter with Professor Ortega in the storage room, and since then, our relationship had been practically perfect, with no misunderstandings. Twice a week, we met in the empty classical classroom, studying advanced mathematics for the upcoming end-of-year exam. Apparently, this contest was going to take place at the end of March, right before graduation.

I put the bottom of the pen between my lips, exhausted and yet satisfied with my work.

Jenna walks toward my direction. Her black boots appear before my eyes, and I slowly examine her. Today, Jenna was wearing a green and white checkered skirt that reached just above her thighs and paired with a green polo shirt. I almost felt like crying under her attentive and intimidating gaze.

She playfully hits me on the cheek, smiling widely.

—See? After two hours, you finally realized? she asks rhetorically, and I look away at her out-of-place comment. I gently remove her hand from my face and stand up from the chair, completely tired.

I glance at the clock and sigh when I see that it's late again.

—We should meet somewhere else... I practically live at this school, I murmur to myself. I clench my jaw, hiding my displeasure.

—You're right... Jenna comments, and I turn towards her. I didn't think she'd be listening. Professor Ortega puts the book in her backpack and looks at me with a slight smile on her lips.

—If it's not too... strange... she begins, stopping briefly, almost regretting saying it. —We could meet at my house... she finishes, putting the backpack over her shoulder.

My eyes widen, and my cheeks turn red. A pleasant sensation spreads across my back at the mere thought of staying at Jenna's house. Professor Ortega shakes her head almost in disappointment because I haven't given her an answer.

—Well... I should just know the address, I nervously scratch the back of my neck.

Jenna sighs in relief and smiles, taking her phone from her bag and walking toward me, looking at the device. —What if I give you my number? she types something on the screen, probably replying to a message.

—I'll send it to you on WhatsApp, she finishes, looking at me through her long lashes.

I nod, still speechless.

Jenna hands me her phone, a beautiful iPhone 14. I see that she's written the signature. Taking a glance at Jenna, I type my number, a little surprised. I hand the phone back to the dark-haired woman, and she puts it in her bag.

—Well... then we'll catch up, she gives me a smile, showing her dimples. She walks past me, tilting her head, always with a smile on her lips, and leaves the room.

Jenna... asked for my number.

(...)

When I left school, I saw Enid leaning on the door of her new car. The blonde waved at me and walked toward me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I returned the hug, relaxing under her touch. Enid broke the hug, jumping in happiness.

—Are you ready? Enid takes my backpack from my hands, opens the trunk, and throws it carelessly inside. The blonde squeals and grabs my hand, making me get in the passenger seat.

—Ready? For what? I look at her with confusion and put on my seatbelt.

—To a party, of course, she puts the key in the ignition and starts the car. I open my eyes wide and shake my head.

—At... 8 p.m.? I said incredulously. —No, I want to go home, I admit. —Old, Enid murmurs, bored. The blonde shifts gears and pulls out toward the gates of Nevermore, crossing the iron doors.

—It's Friday, Marty, it's a life that we don't go to a party together... lately you've been studying too much, really too much, she bites her lower lip distractedly.

She turns toward me, looking at me with pleading eyes.

—Alright... but we'll stay a couple of hours and then go home... that... WATCH OUT! I grab the seatbelt tightly when I see Enid run a red light.

A couple of cars crossing the road honk insistently and stop abruptly, avoiding the collision.

Who the hell gave her a license?

—So party? she smiles, exulting in her victory. —Where are we going? I catch my breath, relieved that I'm still alive. Enid turns back toward me.

—Look at the road, I add, still scared. Enid grips the steering wheel tightly, showing me her new nail polish.

—At Edward's house, she shrugs indifferently. Her eyes shine with excitement. —Edward? I ask, letting out a frustrated sigh.

—He's an idiot... but he throws good parties, the blonde admits, and I stay silent, not knowing what to add.

We see in the distance the enormous house of Edward Smith, and despite the late hour of the party, people were already entering the house. Blinding lights invade the neighborhood, and the deafening music can be heard from meters away.

Enid parks, and we get out of the car, walking toward the entrance of the house. A notification on my phone makes me pull it out of my pocket, frowning when I see that it's from a number I don't recognize.

Unknown

Hi! It's Jenna, well... this is my number.

I smile and save her number, amused that she had to specify that it was hers.

me: Hi Jenna, it's Martina

A few seconds later, I get a message from her.

Jenna* Really? Don't tell me /

me: Silly :3

I put the phone back in my pocket and entered the house, ready to let loose but with a smile on my lips.