Complicated

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It took Nova almost a week to recover to her normal self after Thanksgiving, and by that time we were effectively buried in preparation for finals.

Somewhere, high up in the ranks of public education, someone had decided that Junior year needed to be as tedious and stress-inducing as possible--you know, to prepare us for the real world or something. Winter vacation was only two weeks away by the time I had managed to rise to "B" level in math for the first time since starting high school (with Nova's help, of course) and I was struggling madly to keep it that way. The school's one guidance counselor, a sweet old lady by the name of Ms. Maybelle, had chosen this time of year to also start cramming information about college down our throats, too.

Final exams eventually rolled in like a blizzard none of us were really prepared for. Elbright's final was the last thing standing between us and freedom on a surprisingly pleasant afternoon in mid-December. The prompt, written in blue chalk on the blackboard, was as vague and painful as Elbright could have possibly made it:

Plato's "Allegory of the Cave" explores the idea that "perception is reality."

Use a work of literature we have studied this semester to debate or reinforce the concept.

We struggled and sweated at it for ninety minutes while Elbright sat at the front of the room with his feet up on his desk, bouncing a little foam ball from his desk to the wall constantly, making it impossible to concentrate properly. Unsure of what to write about, I just charged ahead to defend Plato's allegory, using The Great Gatsby to help me (I mean, if anybody in literature lived in constant delusion, it was Gatsby, right?) Elbright called time just as I crossed my last "t" and we all let out a halfhearted cheer, just thankful that the nightmare (both the exam and the semester) was finally, blissfully over. Nova had a little extra spring in her step as she hauled her backpack onto her shoulder, dropped off her essay on Elbright's desk, and practically skipped out the door.

Elbright stopped me as I handed in my essay. "You're writing has improved a lot in the last month or so," He mused, looking over the beginning of my essay with interest. "I'm looking forward to reading this, you know."

"Um... thanks," I said unsure of the praise. I started toward the door.

"Oh, Andy?"

"Yeah?" I stopped in my tracks.

"How's Natalie doing? She's seemed... oh, quieter than usual these past few weeks."

"I think she's fine," I said, surprised that he had noticed. "She had some, um, family issues, I guess you could say."

"Ah." He smiled and rubbed his forehead. "Do me a favor, Andy?"

"Sure," I said automatically. "Uh, what kind of favor?"

"Just keep an eye on your friend, will you? People like Natalie are rare in the world, and I know you can appreciate that as much as I do." He said, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah, I'll do that," I said, perplexed. Elbright dismissed me with a wave of his hand and I wandered off to find Rick's truck, deciding not to mention the conversation to Nova.

"Did you get lost in the bathroom or something?" Nova said from the middle of the bench seat when I finally made it out to the parking lot. I threw my backpack in with a grunt and climbed in after it, not in the mood to bicker at the moment.

"Nah, he probably fell in," said Rick with a laugh. "You've got to put some meat on your bones, Puck. how have you not blown away with the snow yet?" I smiled half-heartedly, lacking the proper brain function for anything more.

"Aww, come on, Elbright's final wasn't that bad," Nova said, patting my head dramatically. "Hey, I volunteered us to go to your house and kill some aliens on the TV to help drown our sorrows!"

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