He’s three strides away from me, and my eyes are practically on their knees begging him to look at me, but he won’t even give me a glance. Two strides and still nothing. One stride, and all the color inside me starts to drain. He’s passing me and it’s over.

But when I hang my head, I see a small, folded note in my lap.

The Sum Color

REX

I’m sitting at my desk trying to figure out how many four-digit numbers there are with at least one repeating digit, but I can’t even concentrate. It’s almost midnight, and Carli still hasn’t called.

What if she didn’t get the paper with my number inside? My shot has been off lately. It could’ve missed her lap and landed on the floor. Or what if she got it and decided not to call? Man, I felt like such the asshole walking right past her and not saying anything. But I couldn’t get into any more trouble.

I’m no closer to solving the problem when my phone rings. My heart leaps, but it’s only Nya. She’s been calling and texting with weak apologies since last Sunday—she didn’t know what she was saying . . . it was the devil . . . please take her back. Straight to voice mail, where I’ve been sending her. She calls again. Straight to voice mail. And again. You already know.

Another five minutes and my phone rings with a number I don’t recognize. It could be Nya calling from a friend’s phone. Plenty of girls have gotten me with that trick. But what if it’s Carli? I can’t take the risk. “Hello,” I answer.

“Hey, it’s Carli.”

“Hey,” I say, relieved.

“Hope I’m not calling too late. Just got off the phone with my dad.”

“It’s all good. You gave me some more time to try to figure out this math problem for a little extra credit.”

“Did you figure it out?”

“Nah.”

“You want me to let you go?”

“Nah, never. I mean, nah. Just plain nah. Not never. Never would be weird.” Really, Rex? I stand up, trying to rid myself of these damn nerves. I thought they’d gotten used to Carli at the gym, but a few hours of separation and they don’t know how to act again.

“I swear your nervousness is the cutest thing ever,” Carli says, and hits me with a little high-pitched laugh that calms me down a bit.

I walk over to my bed, pick up the three T-shirts that lost in the what-to-wear battle this morning, and toss them onto my desk chair. “I have all week to figure it out, though. Mrs. Johnson only gave us the problem today.”

“Dang, you must love you some math.”