(I haven’t written for like a week, so just letting you know this could suck like big time)

I tap my pen multiple times agaisnt the edge of my desk. Math and homework are two things that I think should never be said in the same sentance. They shouldn’t be said at all period.

My phone vibrates in the pocket of my shorts. I throw my pen across the desk, digging in my pocket for my ticket to escape math.

The screen of my phone lights up with a text from Maisie.

Maisie: Need a break? I do.

I smile, getting ready to type back to Maisie. I love how she can read my mind, even when we’re not in the same room.

Me: Read my mind

The three little dots pop up in the corner.

Maisie: Feel like talking

I stand up, stretching my arms above my head as I head towards my bed. I fall down, resting my head the two white pillows.

I lift my phone to my face, texting back: Always

Before I can type anything else my phone starts playing a short set of chimes and Maisie’s name takes over the screen.

I press the green button, laying my phone on the pillow next to my ear.

“Doing math?” Maisie asks on the other line.

I nod, even though she’s not physically with me. “Yeah, but I haven’t even gotten past the first problem.”

“Your name or the actual math?” Maisie asks, her voice swimming with laughter.

I roll my eyes. “Ha, ha, very funny.”

I can see Maisie smiling in my head as she laughs. Last weeek in math, I got grilled for my mistake, and it wasn’t even that bad. It’s not like I forgot my name . . . Well not entirely.

“And to begin I’d like to give a shout out to Davian.” My teacher shifted his green eyes to me. “Or as your last homework assingment read. Cavian Dhase.”

My teachers words are still taughting me every second. He could have at least made it seem more . . . I don’t know. Not about me.

“I was tired,” I say, almost like I’m trying to convice Maisie that it was a mistake. Which maybe I am. “I did that homework at like six in the morning.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Maisie accuses. “You could have done it after school.”

I shake my head. “No, I was with you.”

“Right,” Maisie mumbles. “Then it’s my fault.”

I laugh, playing with the strings on my hoodie. “Good answer.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes. My favorite thing about it is that I don’t feel like I need to talk, and I’m pretty sure that Maisie doesn’t either. If she did she’d keep the converstation going and when we have these moments she never hurries to save any akwardness from entering the room.

Maisie sighs on the other side, “Can I ask you something?”

I twist the hoodie string around my finger, “Shoot.”

Maisie takes a long, deep breath. “Do you like me?”

I let the string unravel as her words enter my brain. Is this a quiz? To see if I’m worthy of her friendship?

I start pulling at the string, “What?” I ask nervously, maybe I just heard wrong.

“I mean I like you,” Maisie tells me.

I feel a small smile pull at the edges of my mouth. I’ve been waiting to hear these words since the day we first met.

“I do,” I blurt out, tighting my grip on the string. What am I doing? I killed her mom, I can’t—

“You do?” Maisie asks, her voice soft.

I nod, “I always have.”

Maisie smiles on the other end, I can’t see her but I know.

Somewhere in the background I hear someone calling for Maisie.

“Oh, I have to go,” Maisie tells me, disappointment surroding her voice. “See you later.”

I nod, sitting up. “Yeah, yeah . . . Talk to you—“

I stop after I’ve realized that Maisie already hung up, and suddenly I wish that I’d hung up before I told Maisie I liked her.