So, we text. And we keep texting until my eyes droop and I fall asleep in a lull between her responses.

On Monday, a pit of anxiety bubbles in my gut when I wake up. I try to pretend that it’s not related to seeing Ana for the first time since that night at her house, but that level of denial is too hard to maintain. As if I don’t have enough reason to be nervous, my Brockton Scholarship application is due on Friday.

“There’s my genius child,” Mom says when I show up at breakfast. She kisses me hard on the forehead.

I got my MAT results over the weekend: 1320 out of 1400. Even better than I’d hoped. Mom has been overjoyed since I got the news. I wish I could be excited with her, but I’m too distracted by my nerves.

By the time I get to school, I’m ready to fake a serious illness and have Dad drive me back home. I settle into my desk in my first class reluctantly and root around in my bag for my phone, hoping to distract myself.

Ana walks through the door, compulsively early as always. She lingers there for a moment, her brown hands holding loosely onto the ratty straps of her backpack. My heart does this gushy, melty thing that can’t possibly be healthy. Which, okay, sounds an awful lot like a thing that happens to you when you like someone.

I yank my hand out of my backpack and wave jerkily at her, like some sort of nervous puppet. I want to rip off my own arms and pretend I didn’t do that. Thankfully, the corner of her mouth curls upward slightly, and she comes to sit beside me.

“Help me with the potions homework?” she says. “I couldn’t figure out one of the questions.”

I laugh, even though that doesn’t make sense as a response. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

“Oh, wait.” She pulls out her potions notebook, flips to the back, and rips out a sheet of paper. “Here.” Her face remains serious as she presents it to me. It’s a large drawing of . . . a rose? Honestly, it’s not completely clear. But she’s scented the paper so it smells strongly of rose. “Since you’re so obsessed with my art skills.”

Oh my god, this is adorable. And funny. It smells really good too. “I’ll, um, put it up. On my fridge.”

What? What am I talking about?

She chuckles. “Sounds good.”

After AP Potions, I covertly text Lex while Ana and I walk through the hallway.

SHAY: I think I like her. help.

The response comes right away.