Lessons in Love (Flirt) by A. Destiny, Catherine Hapka

tongue-tied if and when I did meet Mr. Right in college or whenever.
    Before I could think of a way to launch a friendly conversation, Logan did it for me. “Ling tells me you and Simone have been friends for a long time,” he said.
    “Our whole lives,” I said. “Our moms are friends, and they had us doing playdates together from the time we could sit up, if not before. Although based on their stories, it sounds like the playdates were mostly an excuse for them to get together and drink wine in the afternoon.”
    Logan laughed. “Sounds sort of like my dad and his friends. Mom seems suspicious that most of their so-called work conferences take place in the vicinity of good pubs or famous golf courses.”
    “You said your dad’s a paleontologist, right? That must be a really interesting job.”
    “He loves it. Especially loves getting his hands dirty digging around for old bones or whatever.” Logan drummed his fingers on his desk. “I’m kind of glad he decided to write this book, though. Back when I was a little kid, before Mom decided to go back for her PhD, Dad used to have to travel a ton. It seemed like he was away on digs more than he was home. We had to move a lot just to stay in the same hemisphere as him.”
    “Really?” I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to move as much as you have. Like I told you, I’ve never lived anywhere but here.” I glanced around the room. I’d known most of the people there since kindergarten.
    “I guess I’m just used to being a nomad.” He glanced around too. “Actually, it’s hard for me to imagine that this might be it for a while—that I might be at this school all the way through graduation.” He bit his lip. “It weirds me out a little bit, to be honest.”
    I wasn’t sure how to respond for a moment. His blue eyes had taken on a faraway expression, and his lips were tilted in a little half frown. Suddenly this didn’t feel so much like a casual, friendly conversation anymore. . . .
    “Um, graduation’s only a little over two years away,” I said. “That’s not very long.”
    “I guess. Although Mom’s already talking about me going to the university here too—I’d get free tuition since she’s on the faculty.” He rolled his eyes. “Luckily, Dad already told me I can go anywhere I want.”
    “Where do you want to go?” I asked.
    He lifted one shoulder. “Haven’t thought about it that much. Maybe I’ll go back abroad—it might be fun to study in Europe. Or maybe South America. I’ve never lived there, but we all went to Peru once when Dad had a conference in Trujillo.”
    I shook my head, amazed by how casually he talked about stuff like that. “Wow. I never really thought about going to college in another country. I’m worried enough about how I’m going to handle living in another state !”
    “You’ll do fine.” Logan smiled. “You’ll fit right in at MIT.”
    “ If I get in,” I said quickly. “And if I can figure out a way to pay for it. My family does okay, but they’re not going to be able to pay that kind of tuition by selling a few more of Great-Aunt Ellen’s chocolate-chip cookies.”
    He shrugged. “You can get loans, right?”
    “Maybe for part of it.” I stared across the room at Mr. Gillespie, who was kicking a half-deflated soccer ball around with a couple of the baseball guys. But I wasn’t really seeing them. No, I was looking at my future. My sad, pathetic future stuck working forever at Eats if I didn’t get the scholarships I needed. “But I can’t afford to run up too much debt in undergrad,” I told Logan. “Not with med school coming up right afterward.”
    “Med school? You want to be a doctor?”
    “Medical researcher,” I said. “I want to study genetics. Or maybe cellular biology or something along those lines. I haven’t quite decided yet, but I figure I can try a few different things in college and narrow it down by the time I get through med