Page 43 of The Carrie Diaries (The Carrie Diaries 1)

He’s right, I think, opening my book to the chapter on rogue integers. Donna LaDonna is not important. Calculus is, along with rogue integers. You never know when a rogue integer is going to show up and ruin your entire equation. Perhaps that’s how Donna LaDonna feels about me. I am a rogue integer and I must be stopped.

“Carrie?”

“Yes, Mr. Douglas?”

“Could you come up here and finish this equation?”

“Sure.” I pick up a piece of chalk and stare at the numbers on the blackboard. Who could ever imagine that calculus would be easier than dating?

“So the long knives are out,” Walt says, referring to the assembly incident with a certain degree of satisfaction. He lights a cigarette and tilts back his head, blowing smoke into the rafters of the dairy barn.

“I knew he liked you,” The Mouse says triumphantly.

“Mags?” I ask.

Maggie shrugs and looks away. She’s still not talking to me.

She grinds her cigarette under her shoe, picks up her books, and walks off.

“What’s eating her?” The Mouse asks.

“She’s mad at me because I didn’t tell her about Sebastian.”

“That’s stupid,” The Mouse says. She looks at Walt. “Are you sure she’s not mad at you?”

“I’ve done absolutely nothing. I am blame-free,” Walt insists.

Walt has taken the breakup awfully well. It’s been two days since Walt and Maggie had their “talk,” and their relationship seems to be nearly the same as it was before, save for the fact that Maggie is now officially dating Peter.

“Maybe Maggie’s mad at you because you’re not more upset,” I add.

“She said she thought we made better friends than lovers. I agreed,” Walt says. “You don’t get to make a decision and then be angry about it when the other person agrees with you.”

“No,” says The Mouse. “Because that would require a certain degree of logic. It’s not a criticism,” she says quickly, catching the warning expression on my face. “But it’s true. Maggie isn’t the mo

st logical person.”

“But she is the nicest.” I’m thinking I’d better go after her, when Sebastian appears.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. “I just got accosted by Tommy Brewster who kept asking me something about chickens.”

“You guys are too cute,” Walt says, shaking his head. “Just like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“What should we do?” Sebastian asks.

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?” Now that we’re in Sebastian’s car, I suddenly feel insecure. We’ve seen each other three days in a row. What does it mean? Are we dating?

“We could go to my house.”

“Or maybe we should do something.” If we go to his house, all we’ll do is make out. I don’t want to be the girl who only has sex with him. I want more. I want to be his girlfriend.

But how the hell do I do that?

“Okay,” he says, resting his hand on my leg and sliding it up my thigh, “Where do you want to go?”

“Don’t know,” I say glumly.

“The movies?”