Paper Flowers (Pretty Plastic People) ★

bonus 02

"Hey, Erika."

Liam prods me with a pencil just as I finish scribbling down a complicated equation. When I glance over at him, I see his paper is empty and he's not even holding a pencil—just staring off into nothingness.

"Liam," I hiss, lowering my voice to avoid Mr. Shapiro's keen hearing, "if you don't start doing some of your own work, you're going to fail the AP exam."

He picks up his pencil, but I can tell by the way his eyes still don't settle on his paper that he's only half listening. "I wasn't asking to copy your work," he said. "I had a question about Allison."

My interest is piqued. Since Liam's party last Friday, Liam and Allison haven't spoken at all. I've found myself watching them in the hallways, waiting to catch a secret glance or a lingering touch. There's been nothing. I wonder for the umpteenth time if their kiss was the result of drunken happiness and not anything more.

Now I set down my own pencil and turn to him. "What's up?"

"I have no idea." He rakes his hand through his hair, his blonde curls tousling more than usual. "Maybe I'm paranoid, but I really don't think she's interested in me. Has she talked about me at all since Friday?"

I study his open, yearning eyes and really wish I could say yes, but I can't lie to him. Instead I sigh and say, "No. I've been wondering, too. I'm sure she's just been overwhelmed with school though. Maybe she doesn't have time to worry about starting a new relationship."

Liam is uncharacteristically quiet, so I nudge him and add, "Come on. Who can resist a hot guy like you, right?"

Usually a little ego prodding perks him right up, but he just says, "She was drunk, right? She probably doesn't even remember. I'm such an idiot. I made out with a drunk girl and expected her to fall in love with me."

I don't say anything for a few seconds, because I'm not sure what I can do to assuage the disappointment he must be feeling. I watched them last Friday: now eager he was, how his fingers kept reaching out to her with the slightest hesitation. She'd told me she had a crush on him, but that was a while ago. At the party, she could have easily just been inebriated.

"I'm sorry," I say finally, twisting my pencil in between my fingers. "You should talk to her. It might clear a lot up."

"I guess. Will you go with me? After school today?"

I start to say no—I'm tired of getting involved in other people's drama and screwing things up when I should just leave them alone. But then I realize: Liam is one of my best friends. He's sacrificed so many things for me, and this is the least I can do.

"All right," I concede. "But you have to finish these AP problems all by yourself first."

Without a single complaint, he pulls his calculator towards him and starts working. I watch for a few seconds as he scribbles and erases, pausing every now and then to bite his lip and contemplate a problem. Then, with a tiny smile, I turn back to my own work.

By the end of class, I can tell Liam is getting distracted, but he finishes every last problem and has just enough time to compare his work with me. I'm surprised that he's gotten just as many as I have correct.

"When you really apply yourself, you're a genius," I tell him as I double-check our answers for the last two questions.

He shrugs. "It's like I always say. When people see someone as devilishly attractive as me, they have a hard time believing I'm anything more than that rough bad boy. But I've got the whole package: the looks, the smarts, the top-secret computer coding..."