How To Get a Boyfriend 101

13 : Friday

Step Thirteen: Don't be afraid! Unlucky Step Thirteen won't hurt you! It's good to make jokes and be funny! If you're a person who cracks jokes a lot, go for it! If joking isn't your strong suit, go check out one of our other books, How to Be a Jokester 101!

If I thought How to Get a Boyfriend 101 was a dumb name for a book, How to Be a Jokester 101 is worse. Anyone who buys that has got to be first-level desperate. Second-level is How to Read Facial Expressions 101, and, of course, I am the living embodiment of someone who is third-level desperate.

I don't know if today counts as Friday the thirteenth, because of the step, but I don't care. It's whatever, you know? No bad omens or anything. Nope. Not at all. Not a sign, not an omen, and certainly not a glitch. Nope.

The morning is boring without Jason. I feel empty, like there's someone who should be in my room with me. And no, that person is not Blake. I kick him out within three seconds of his arrival, which is coupled with a desperate request to be fed.

I put on a boring blue shirt and black joggers. I don't feel like wearing jeans, especially since I'm going to have to change for gym. Also, today we have FROG, and I don't feel like sitting cross-legged in super tight jeans. That hurts, man. Like, a lot.

Blake pouts when I meet him downstairs. "You know, you've been kind of mean to me lately."

I grin back. "I can't make you breakfast every day, if that's what you want."

He gives me a look.

"Also, I literally took care of you for a whole day. That was, uh, the day before yesterday. So..."

He yells, "Let me just create drama, okay?" I burst out laughing. We talk about random stuff for about three minutes, then I suddenly take my backpack off. Blake looks at me in confusion.

"What—?"

He jumps back, startled, as I toss my emergency granola bar at him. He catches it right before it hits the ground, kind of like Spider-man would.

Blake has devoured the small ration by the time I'm standing up again.

"Blake, that was supposed to be for both of us!"

"You sgibbed beckfist?" he mumbles through a mouth full of granola. "Soh-ee."

I sigh. Gosh darn it; I'm addicted to sighing. Why am I like this? Why can't I sigh as often as a normal person, for crying out loud?

Ah, but I know the drill: I cry in my head, not out loud. My life is messed up, and there isn't a single thing I can do to save it. Knowing that only makes me want to sigh more.

Blake and I are thirty minutes late to school.

It's not really either of our faults. I fell asleep first, so technically I could blame Blake, but I also hugged him in my sleep. At least, according to him I did, but both of us know that Blake falls asleep if he's hugged for more than one minute at a time. It's this weird thing he does that only his family and I know about.

My science teacher throws a handful of sunflower seeds at me. Little does he know; sunflower seeds taste like green tea if you suck on them for five minutes then bite down really hard. I catch about half of them, and suddenly I'm not angry at Blake for eating the granola bar anymore.

"What are you doing?" Russell whispers once I'm munching on the seeds next to him.

I raise an eyebrow and gesture at what's left in my hand. "Eating. Why?"

"We were going to plant those! That was your pouch!"

"Pouch?"

Russell groans and smacks his forehead. "Before you got here, the teacher explained that we're going to be planting sunflowers. Then he gave each of us a handful of seeds, which he called a pouch." He gives me a purposeful look. "But you ate yours."