Copyright 2026

The locker next to Sheila’s was covered in stickers, science fiction mostly, but there were dog stickers as well, different breeds, and a feline Spock sticker right in the center. She admired the energy it took to decorate the locker and she counted on it to help her find her own. The white number had been scraped off the grey metal door by a previous occupant. She opened her door and stuffed her history book inside. Time for algebra. With no enthusiasm whatsoever, she pried the oversized math book out of the locker, then used it to shove the door closed. She resented algebra class. She wanted to be an artist, not a scientist. She glanced at the decorated locker again. The guy it belonged to hadn’t come by yet. She’d been trying to work up the courage to talk to him, but it didn’t seem to be in the cards today.

The popular girls clustered in fashion groups, standing in tight little circles up and down the hall, all scrolling like mad on their phones. Sheila would never fit in any of their groups. Her mouth quirked up in a smile. They look like small covens, all staring into the bubbling brew in its digital cauldron.

The tall gangly owner of the sci—fi locker came slowly down the hall, book open in one hand, Snickers bar clutched in the other. Sheila’s heart pounded. How could he eat like that and have such smooth skin? He lifted his gaze and caught her staring. She turned away, cheeks burning, and left without saying a word.

“Stupid, stupid,” she muttered to herself. “You’ve got to say hello to him before the end of the semester. You put that goal in your journal. You have to do it!” She scolded herself all the way to algebra class, sliding into her desk as the late bell rang. That was close. “She just starts thinking about stuff and loses track of time.” That was what her mother had snapped at the vice-principal, who now shot daggers at her every time they passed in the hall. Way to help me get on her good side, she thought.

Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the teacher call her name until the whole class was laughing at her.

“Come up to the board, please, and work this problem.”

She went, fiddling with the chalk until her fingers were covered. Solve for X. With every eye in the class on her, she couldn’t think. Order of operations? Gone.

“Keep thinking about it,” said her teacher. “Everyone gets nervous at the board." He pointed at someone in the back. “Justin? You’re making up that 8:00 you missed, right? Come on up to the board.”

Sheila glanced sideways at the newcomer. It was him!!! And his name was Justin!!! She almost let herself off the hook, since her journal promise was to learn his name. But that wasn’t good enough. He was standing right there, and he was doodling a spaceship on the board, waiting for her to work her problem. She felt like she might explode, so she blurted out, “Can I phone a friend?”

The class laughed, and a couple of students clapped at her adlib.

Her teacher said, “Maybe Justin can help you. Justin? How about a space walk over to Sheila to help her solve the equation.”

“Sure,” Justin said, beaming a smile at her. “Here. Use the PEMDAS…parentheses first, so we add these values. Then division before addition…and now we add…and there you have it.”

“Thank you,” Sheila murmured, adding, “I love your spaceship.” Giggles from the class sent her rushing back to her desk. She felt like she was a lighthouse, shining and spinning, and wished the other kids would look elsewhere. She sighed with relief and opened her notebook. Math on the left page, her abstract art on the right, rendered in blue ballpoint. Someone claimed the empty desk beside her. She glanced over. It was Justin!

He leaned toward her and whispered, “Really cool graphics.”

“Thanks. I want to be an artist.”

“You already are, and there’s your proof.” The teacher cleared his throat and they both turned their attention back to their math books.

Sheila didn’t hear a single word. Her heart and her brain were struggling to cope with having Justin next to her. As the clock ticked down to the last minute, students began packing their things. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Justin was waiting for her! Life could not get better than that.

“Hey, do you mind if I add your art to my locker?”

“Really? Wow. Sorry I’m so dumb at math.”

“I’m not. Gives me a chance to tutor you. If you want me to.” He went from self-assured to awkward and shy in a heartbeat.

“I could really use the help,” said Sheila, a flock of frantic butterflies erupting around her heart.

“Good.” He shuffled from one foot to another. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to talk to you all semester. Ain’t that crazy?”

“Totally cray-cray.”

“Want to get a Coke?”

Sheila was floating on a cloud. “I should confess. I’ve been trying to talk to you, too.”

He echoed her with, “Totally cray-cray.”

Sheila could hardly wait to write today’s entry in her journal. Maybe algebra would come in handy after all.

End