She pushes her chair back and stands, but I shake my head, motion for her to sit down and close my textbook. Parabolas can wait. Asha beams, sitting again and unwrapping her sandwich.
“How’s it going?” she asks.
I gesture to my homework and point a finger gun to my temple.
She grins. “Having some trouble, I take it?”
I pull out my whiteboard and write, Only always, and she laughs.
“You know, I could help you with it sometime,” she says. “I’m pretty good with numbers.”
I am more than willing to use this reluctant camaraderie to my benefit. Maybe I can get a good math grade out of it. That’d be something.
You free after school?
Asha makes an apologetic face. “Can’t. I have to work,” she explains. But then her eyes brighten. “Hey, why don’t you come with me? Thursdays are slow anyway, and I get a break, so I could help you out. And I bet I can get you a free sandwich. Sam makes amazing tuna melts. I mean, I haven’t tried them because I’m vegetarian, but everyone says they’re awesome.”
What about your boss?
“Dex won’t care, trust me. He’s really laid-back. You’d like him.”
I consider my options. Hanging out at a diner does sound pretty sweet compared to the alternative—moping in an empty house until my parents come home from work. The prospect of eating something not made from tofu is too enticing to pass up. What’s the worst that could happen?
O.K.
Asha’s face lights up. “Perfect!” she exclaims. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” She grins and passes me an apple slice.
I bite into it, grateful, and for the most fleeting of moments I forget how depressed I’m supposed to be.
* * *
Asha meets me after detention, and we drive to Rosie’s together. She’s particularly bubbly today. Or maybe I’ve just forgotten what it’s like to be in such a good mood that you feel the need to dance in your seat to the radio.