I hold out my fist and knock on the glass. I watch Abram's brain process the sound, probably doesn't hear it very often unless he's got a late-night side-skank I'm unaware of, and he better not.

I pretended not to be surprised when she showed up at my sliding door last night. Between the dog and me? I thought she was either a super-dedicated UPS guy or a polite serial killer.

I like this documentary, starring her in captivity, better.

He sure does fall asleep a lot. Must be the Paxil. he takes his pill and a half hour later it's like he's roofied himself.

Do you think that Asian girl over there is pretty? I ask Abram, testing him, wondering if I'm really his type, or if I'm just his type until that rare breed of slutty Asian drops into his lap.Only when she lets me cheat off of her, he answers.

It must be time for my pill. I pull a tiny fourth from my jeans pocket.Didn't you just take one?Here. To help you get through class.He swallows it without a word, tells me he wants to know what it feels like to take what I'm taking. It's the nicest, most disturbing thing anyone has ever said to me.

Did you remember my tennis-themed Halloween party this weekend?Yes. Not really, no. Where is it again?My house. Well, my dad's house. Should I feel bad for hosting it while he's out of town?Not when he still owes you for a lifetime of disappointment.

That, right there, is how not to give a shit, let alone two of them.

One of these days, she'll let me perform a favor for her without calculating what she owes me, which is always going to be nothing. Except for maybe a kiss, if our relationship ever reaches that level—pinnacle?—where favors can be repaid sexually (in a respectful manner).