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The next few days go rather smoothly. Connor starts to talk more to Tomika and even tells her his real name. Tomika says she really likes his name before Connor goes back to calling her a nerd, which seems to be getting more affectionate every time he says it to her personally.
One day, Tomika decides to finally tell Connor about her secret passion: sculpting. This is ultimately the true test to whether or not Connor is in it for the long run or not. If he seems to enjoy talking about it, then she’s finally done it.
“Hey, Connor,” Tomika starts.
“What’s up,” he replies, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
“Well, we’ve been starting to get to know each other more and more, and I think we can finally tell each other things we can’t tell others.”
“I don’t have feelings for you, nerd.” Connor automatically replies.
Tomika blushes, “No, not that! Look,” she sighs, “I’m only telling you this because I know you’re a good listener and I don’t want you to think I’m a freak.”
“I’m listening.”
Tomika takes a deep breath, then, “I want to become an artist. I want to move to Paris and start my career of sculpting.”
Connor almost wants to laugh. “Good luck trying to live with a degree in that.”
“Connor!” Tomika pouts, “I’m serious! Art really means a lot to me. But no one else here seems to really care about it. And when I do announce I’m an artist, people come at me with a million requests to do things and—”
“Geez, can you please stop hyperventilating?”
“I’m not hyperven—”
“You’re having considerable trouble breathing.”
“I’m not having any trouble—”
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“Do you need a paper bag to breathe in?”
“I am not hyperventilating!” Tomika shrieks. “Were you even listening in the first place?”
“Sure I was,” Connor replies, smiling, “how else would I be able to detect your hyperventilation?”
Tomika wants to snap at him, but she can’t help but laugh. Connor laughs along with her. They laugh for a long time. Sure, it’s obnoxious and they sound like wheezing geese, but it’s just a nice, hearty laugh between two friends.
Heather doesn’t think so. She hasn’t been hearing much from the conversation, but she hears laughing and sees them talking, and gets angry.
“Heather,” Eliza, who, with Chloe, has been with her, asks, “you’re not getting jealous, are you?”
Chloe laughs. “Heather Schuyler jealous of a loser talking to another depressed narcissist? Please, entertain me more.”
“Shut it, girls,” Heather holds up her hand. “If any of you were smart, you’d realize I’m trying to learn what they’re talking about.”
“If you were smart,” Eliza mumbles, “you wouldn’t have gotten that 42 in Science.”
“Actually, Eliza, it was 32, so shut it,” Heather snaps back.
Eliza rolls her eyes, “Whatever, just… what are you doing?”
Heather sighs, “Connor Depressed Sack doesn’t deserve any attention from anyone. That big thing that happened in the hallways when that nerd ran into him was uncalled for. He’s taking too much space in my spotlight from my stage.”
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Eliza asks.
“It’s obvious, Eliza,” Chloe explains. “We need to get that depressed sack away from the nerd as soon as possible. The only attention he needs is from a mental institution.”
“Cool it, Chloe,” Heather replies, “save you energy for the rumor-making.”
“Guys, I don’t really like this,” Eliza timidly adds.
“I don’t think you ‘like’ anything we do, Eliza,” Chloe confronts. “But you know what? It sure beats going back to what were you before. Remember that? You were so miserable before we took you under our wings and saved you. Surely you wouldn’t want to return to that, right?”
Eliza shakes her head slowly.
Heather grins, “Good. Now, Chloe, hand me your phone. You okay with taking the blame for this?”
“Oh please,” Chloe holds her phone, “I’ll do the typing.”
“Confident, aren’t you?” Heather’s grin grows. “Just make sure you make it spread like wildfire. Also, make sure it’s good enough to enrage Connor and have him dump his lame-o girlfriend.”