Another Geometry test. Another bad grade. I blow a stray strand of hair out of my face as I walk out of the classroom. Mr. Bankses tsk tsk tsks at me too many times to count and it's aggravating as if he already knows that I failed. Mom is going to kill me, I just know it.

"Hey, how was it?" Luka asks me as soon as I walk outside. Luka is the kind of boy to wait for his girlfriend outside the door after her classes. Yes, girlfriend. We made it completely official and we're one of the most talked-about couples in the school; I think it's because we're so different, me being the nerdy, less-popular one, and he being the best friend of the most popular guy in school, which makes him one of the most popular guys in school, as well as being much higher on the social class system than me in this world we call high school. His theory is that it's because we're so perfect for each other and everyone wants to know why it took so long for us to get together. I think that's completely make-believe but he insists it's true and I choose to go along with it because I like his scenario better.

"Horribly. I bombed it." I groan as I think of the scolding I'm going to get. Although she apologized, my mom has stuck to her promise of cutting me off from my boyfriend and friends.

Luka reaches up to slide that ever-annoying stray piece of hair behind my face as he says, "Do you need any help? Geometry is actually one of my stronger subjects."

I scowl at him. "Good for you. But if I get anything less than a B+ in the class, my mom'll hire a real tutor. Like one of those stupid professional ones." I sigh. "I've never had a tutor before." The thought makes me want to cry. All my life, I've passed my classes with flying colors. Perfect grades and exceptional remarks from the teachers. At one point, I even tutored other kids! But now, everything has gone downhill and it's all because of Geometry and Mr. Bankses horrible explanations of the curriculum.

"Hey, don't be sad." Luka nuzzles my hair. "I'm perfectly happy to go talk to your mom about me tutoring you instead."

I shake my head. "She loves you and all but I don't she'd approve of you coming to my house to 'study.' She'll think that we're just gonna spend all of our time fooling around or something."

Luka grins. "But we wouldn't. Scouts honor," he adds, placing a hand over his heart. "But seriously, I'm willing to go talk to her and tell her about why I would be an amazing tutor. I have perfect grades that I can show her and I have other proof. Or I could have my parents come talk to her and try to convince her," he adds as an afterthought. I'm a little excited by this idea. My mom hasn't met Luka's parents yet.

"Actually, that sounds like a great idea. She's been talking lately about having your folks over for dinner one of these evenings anyway. She's very interested in meeting them. She always likes to meet the parents," I say, rolling my eyes. "Why don't you ask your parents if they can come to dinner, say, tomorrow night? And while they're there, maybe have them slip in a little about how you're extra amazing at geometry?" I ask slyly.

Luka nods along in agreement. "I'll ask tonight and text you as soon as possible. For now, we should probably be getting to class." He winks. "Unless you're planning to ditch..." I play-punch him.

"Are you kidding? Mom'll have more reason to to hire a real tutor for me! I'll see you later," I say, sighing at the thought of having to split up already.

"Bye, Meg." He kisses me quickly and walks off, ignoring the giggles and stares of our classmates. I never thought I'd be one of those girls, the ones with boyfriends who kiss them at school or in public, the ones who are all lovey-dovey and miss each other if they're away for longer than five minutes. But Luka has changed me, and it's definitely for the better, though it may take some convincing for my mother to side with me on that point. But I will never stop trying.

******

Later that night, Luka texts me with the news. I hear the little ping that always makes me smile and I pick up my phone, desperate for some break from the tortuous geometry homework that Mr. Bankses assigned the class right after the test. That man is ruthless.

My parents said tomorrow evening is good if that's ok with ur mom.

I run downstairs. "Mom! Can Luka's parents come over for dinner tomorrow?" My mom pokes her head out of her office door.

"Sure, honey. What time? And just his parents? Or are his siblings coming too?" I text him and he answers quickly.

"Well... we were thinking six if that's okay. And Liam and Deborah are coming too. If that's okay," I say quickly. I'm already treading in dangerous waters and I need to be on my best behavior in anticipation of tomorrow.

My mom grins. "The more the merrier, am I right?"

"Sure, Mom." I text Luka the affirmative and the plans are set. I'm excited to meet Deborah and Liam. Everytime I've gone over, Luka's older brother and little sister haven't been there. He's told me lots of stories about them and I've been dying to meet them. Liam is apparently the older, brooding type, who cares more about girls than grades. I'm almost afraid to meet him but I'm sure I can handle it. Deborah is that small, innocent child who always comes prepared with a smile and an embarrassing story about both her older brothers prepared. I grin in anticipation, ready to hear stories that I can tease Luka about for forever.

My mom comes out of her office and up to my room. I can hear her footsteps on the stairs and I hear her knock on my door. That's one amazing thing about her: she respects my privacy. I hear her quiet voice on the other side of the door.

"Can I come in?" she asks.

"Yeah," I call. She opens the door and pads inside of the room, shutting the door behind her as she comes to sit down on my bed. "I was just thinking... what should we make for dinner tomorrow?" I put down my textbook.

"Huh?" It's the first thing I think to say. I hadn't thought that far ahead and I thought we would just eat normally.

"Well, I was thinking that we might want to do better than frozen pizzas and Coca-Cola cans." I smile. That's not what we generally eat, I swear. "Maybe you and I can make a meal together?" I nod. Mother-daughter time is long overdue in this family. I think.

"What would we make?" It's been a long time since we've had guests over and I have no idea what's appropriate.

"Steaks? We can order from the fancy meat deli downtown." My mom looks actually excited and I'm starting to feel it. Really feel it. "And we can have mashed potatoes and gravy and corn on the cob. And if anyone is vegetarian, we can make a vegetarian lasagna. Remember when we made that for Carl's parents?" My mom trails off as she realizes who she brought up but I face it with a smile.

"Yeah, that was really good. But I don't think anyone is vegetarian. Do you want me to ask?"

"Sure, that would be helpful." I pick up my phone and text Luka, who responds with a Nope, we're all carnivores here. :)

"Says they're all meat-eaters," I inform my mom.

"Okay. But we still need to make some salad or something. We need to look like a somewhat healthy family." She smiles at me and I grin back, getting excited.

"Should we make something more kid-friendly for Deborah? She's younger than everyone and somehow, I don't she'll appreciate a big-whole steak."

"Mac-and-cheese?" my mom suggests. I text Luka this suggestion and he responds with a big thumbs up, saying that that is Deborah's favorite. "But we have to make it homemade. And with the secret ingredient," I say, winking at mom.

"Definitely. Do you want to go down to the meat deli and the grocery store with me in a bit? I want to be prepared."

"Of course. Just let me get changed," I say, standing up. My mom stares at me for a moment.

"What?" I ask, feeling self-conscious in my sweats and oversized T-shirt. I smooth down my hair as tears form in her eyes.

"Did I do something wrong, Mom?" I ask, confused as to why she's crying.

"I'm a terrible mom," she says, wiping her eyes. "You've grown so much and all I've done is stay stuck up in my study, writing novels about stupid characters who are never going to be as real as you."

"Mom, don't get all sentimental on me," I say, trying to make a joke out of it. She pulls me in for a hug and I breathe in the familiar mom-scent that has gotten to be too faded and old.

"You need to invite more people over, hon. Then maybe we can do more things together. We need to start hanging out, mother and daughter." I nod along with her.

"That sounds great," I say. "I love you, Mom." I feel like I don't say it enough and I'm sorry.

"I love you, Megan," she says, kissing my hair. "I'll go get changed too." She leaves the room and I sigh, missing her already. I change into a pair of denim cutoffs that aren't too short—I am going out with my mom, after all—and a white t-shirt that says au revoir. I grab an old clutch, toss my phone and my wallet in there, and head downstairs.

"Mom!? You ready?" I call.

"One sec!" I hear her shout. She emerges from her study, rifling for her keys from her purse. She pulls them out, opens the front door, and locks it behind her, pressing the button to unlock the car door at the same time. I walk to the passenger seat and am almost buckled in when she asks out of the blue, "Do you want to drive?" I'm appalled. Mom doesn't trust me with her car any more than I would trust her with my phone. But I take her up on the offer.

"Sure," I say, getting back out and taking the keys from her. I sit in the driver's seat, adjusting it to my preferences, and I take a deep breath as I turn on the engine, put the car in gear, and start to drive. I've never driven my mom's car before and it feels so different, so strange, so out-of-place. The fact that she's letting me drive it in the first place is a feat all by itself but I don't dare to question it and lose the chance. We stop at the grocery store first and grab all the necessary ingredients: potatoes, butter, spinach, lettuce, cabbage, cranberries, corn, and flour and sugar for our dessert, which was to be a simple two-tiered cake made out of lemon zest and cakey bread. Then we head to the meat deli and grab five steaks plus some pork chops if anyone wants any. We also grab some seasonings to flavor the meat and then we head home. As we're driving, I can feel my mom's eyes on me and I turn away from the road for just a second and I smile at her. She smiles back for a moment and then says, "Watch the road, Megan." I grin and turn back to the gray expanse of cement in front of me. Same old mom. We got home and I unlocked the front door, making sure to press the button to lock Mom's car. Then I handed her the keys. She smiled at me.

"Meg, I want to say something." I brace myself for the endless barrage of complaints about my driving that I know will be coming. "I think that you're becoming a very responsible young woman. You should be allowed to drive whenever you want, as long as you're willing to stay this responsible. Therefore, I'm giving you back your car. But mind you, one more ticket and that's it. It's sold. Forever." I smile at her but tears are brimming in my eyes. I suddenly have a wild impulse to cry so that she'll tuck me in her arms like when I was five and would have horrid nightmares about the monsters and vampires that I believed crossed my room at night in the dark. But instead I reach out and hug my mom, just like that, actually embracing her, something I haven't done in a long time.

I whisper, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Megan."

"And it's not just about the car," I add, in case that's what she thinks. She smiles at me and I sniffle. "I really missed you, Mom."

"Of course, Meg," she says. "Me too." Then she pulls away and she takes the groceries. "Let's put these in the fridge."

"Okay." I grab the meat and follow her inside. I toss the meat into the freezer, making a mental note to take it back out to thaw it out early tomorrow. My mom walks back into her office after giving me a smile and I suddenly feel alone in this house. I've always wanted a little brother or sister, someone to play with or babysit or even fight with. But my dad left before that could ever happen and I'm stuck here alone. On a whim, I decide to bake cookies while I'm down here in the kitchen. We have all of the ingredients and materials so I grab the necessary items and start baking. As I knead the dough, I realize how much I missed this. As a child, I used to love to bake, hosting bake sales for fun and donating the money to charities, or selling them to my neighbors and friends. I would give cookies to people left and right, to the postmen, to the librarians, to the grocers. People knew me as the baker and then one day... I guess I stopped. I started caring more about clothes and guys and friends rather than cookies and muffins. I get lost in the baking right now, in preheating the oven, in adding the flour and sugar, in cracking the eggs, and I don't realize that I've made three full batches of cookies until I look up at the clock and survey the trays in front of me of the three different kinds of cookies—chocolate chip, oatmeal, and snickerdoodle, my favorite. What am I supposed to do with all of these cookies?

My phone is ringing and I grab for my purse, unlatching it and grabbing my phone. Jake Lloyd. Why is he calling me now? I stare at the name on my screen until I realize I've missed the call. Then a voicemail pops up a few seconds later. I open it and listen. Hey, Meg. Look. I'm sorry about what happened in the car. Call me back. Please. Jake. I sigh, my heart feeling as if it's being pierced. What am I supposed to say to him? I'm humiliated, mortified, embarrassed about everything. But I still call him back because he deserves the chance to come clean and clear his conscience.

"Megan?" he picks up almost immediately, as if he was staring at his phone waiting for my call.

"Jake." It's all I can muster.

"Meg, look, I'm really sorry about what happened. I don't really know what happened... it was a bet thing I had with Luka and I guess I got carried away."

"I know, Jake. He told me. It's okay."

"So you guys are still talking?" Jake asks.

"Yeah. Of course. He forgave me and explained everything to me. I'm sorry for trying to... push you to do something or whatever. I don't know what was going on with me either."

"Look, Megan... I'm just gonna come clean. And please listen to me." I take a deep breath. He deserves a chance to explain himself.

"Fine."

"Remember in sixth grade when we first met each other? First day of English class... it was scary and nerve wracking. And then I saw you. We sat at the same table and I just remember thinking what amazing luck I had. Remember how we had to sit in mini-tables back in middle school? When I saw you, it was like everything was okay. Nothing was scary anymore.

"And then in seventh grade. I'm sorry for telling people that you were dating Jared. Remember that?" I nod, even though I know he can't see me. That was a horrible time for me, people asking me left and right if I was actually dating him. "I was just... jealous. Or being a guy. Or whatever. I don't even know what was going through my mind. I honestly don't remember. And in eighth grade, I asked you to that dance and you said yeah and it was the happiest day of my life. And then the next day, you told me you weren't going. But I know you, Meg. You did go. With Carl."

"Yeah." I can't say anything else as I realize that it's true. I did blow him off. And that's because I was scared of what people would say if I went with the popular kid. And I was also crushing hard on Carl that time.

"And high school. God, Megan, you kept right on dating Carl and I was dying. Dying from the inside. Just why couldn't you just once... look at me like that?" I bite my lip to keep from crying. I will not cry, I will not cry I say to myself like it's an inner chant to keep saying. This is like deja vu and I can't handle crying anymore. He goes on, "And then I knew that day when you were sitting alone in the cafeteria that you and Carl were over. Done. For whatever reason. I could just tell by your stance and the way you walked by Carl as if he didn't exist anymore. So I took a chance and asked you to come sit with us. Introduced you to my friends." He laughs... a bitter, harsh thing that sends a horrible pain through my body and fractures my heart just a little as I think of the hurt I've caused not only one boy, but two. What is wrong with me? "And what do you know? You fell in love with my best friend." I did, and in that process, I succeeded in hurting the ones that I care about.

I'm actually crying now, and I can't stop it, and it's not only because of Jake, but because of everything I did to hurt him. All my life, I've been hurting people: my mom, Luka, Jake. What have I done?

"Megan. I'm sorry for all of this. But I just needed to tell you how I felt. Before— I don't know. Just... I had to tell you. And I hope that I didn't hurt you. That was never my intention."

My voice sounds broken even to my own ears. I keep my eyes trained on a misshapen cookie as I start talking. "Jake, what am I supposed to do? With you, I hurt Luka, with Luka, I hurt you. With Carl, I hurt both of you. And you don't know how sorry I am."

"Megan. It's not your fault. Can you just promise me one thing?" His voice cracks on the last syllable and my heart falters.

"Anything."

"Even if you are dating Luka, you have to promise that you will always talk to me about anything that you need to talk about. We are still gonna be friends. Promise?"

"Of course." It's an easy promise to make. "Jake... you really did hurt Clare." It has to be said.

"I know, and I'm sorry. It was a jerky thing to do. I led her on, I know. I want to defend myself but there's nothing I can say. Maybe I wanted to make you jealous... show you what you were missing. But you were so happy for her. You were a better friend than I could ever be. So I ended it before it got any worse. And then you told me that you and Luka were dating and I realized that in your eyes, I wasn't worthy of you because of what I had done. Or that Luka was a much better guy than me, and it's true. He's better than I could ever be."

"I know, Jake. I know." I can't say anything else and I don't even know what I am claiming to know.

"Look, Meg, I have to go. Duty calls." I can almost see his smile. "But I'll call you back whenever or you can text me if you need to talk. Okay?"

"Of course, Jake. Of course." We hang up. I'm left with conflicted feelings.

How do I always manage to hurt the ones I care about?