“Ms. Kierkegaard, please, we’ve talked about doing homework from other classes.”

“Oh, this is geometry, sir.”

Gerald picked up Karina’s paper and examined it skeptically.

“Indeed it is. Advanced geometry, but only extrapolating from the assigned textbook. Well, I suppose there’s no rule against glowering, as long as it’s at your paper and not at me.”

Gerald returned to his computer, and typed in a new rule.

“Dorian, please report to the principal’s office.”

"You bought a car?" asked Karina.

“You said we were over," Dorian explained. "So I took some of the money I was saving for us and spent it on myself.”

Karina looked at the car, then back at Dorian.

“But you only work part-time.”

Dorian shrugged. “It’s a socialist country. First car is free. I only had to pay a little extra from my allowance to upgrade to this version.”

“So why not just get it sooner?”

“Like I said, this version costs a little extra. Bitcoin is only $10 million right now.”

Karina rolled her eyes, but she was laughing.

“What, you think you could have timed it better?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to join me in the breakup-mobile to get ice cream? It’s not like I need the passenger seat for anyone else.”

“Dorian, do you like accounting? You spend a lot of extra time studying it. We stopped playing games as much.”

“No. I kind of hate it. Actually, I hate it a lot.”

“So why bother? Is it because your dad would be mad at you?

“No. He’d be mad at me for something else anyway.”

“Then why?”

“He has a point. I do need a real job for us to get by in life. Someday. And accounting is mostly rote memorization, so it’ll work well enough.”

Karina hugged him and cried into his chest.

“Us?” she asked.

“Who else? If you left I’d just move to Las Vegas and… Well, I don’t think I could like or love anyone else. You could always find me there if you changed your mind.”

Karina cried harder and gripped him tighter.

“Did I do something wrong?” asked Dorian.

“Yes,” said Karina. “You’re a terrible person. It’s what I need for my plan. Don’t get good.”

“Okay!” he said with a smile.

“Do you still have the book you got me?”

“Course! You’ve seen my room. I don’t change.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“爱你”

“I love you too.”

“New hair color, kiddo?” asked Karina’s dad.

“Yeah.”

“Glad to see you’re coming out of your shell. I was worried you’d have trouble making friends in California, but of course a creative type like you would find a place here.

He gazed at the bonfire.

“S’mores?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

Karina shoveled more useless books into the fire. In the distance, in front of the setting sun, she could see the silhouette of what she guessed was a coyote, the roaming trickster spirit that delivers judgment to all pets domestic, traversing the hills of Marin County. Karina didn’t have pets to worry about. She wished she did, but her father wanted the house to be ready for entertaining any guests that might be allergic.

“You will be my pet,” Karina proclaimed.

The golden shadow bowed its head to the ground. “As you will be mine.”

Karina followed suit as the flames rose higher and carried the stories of old to the wind, from West to the East, and from East to West.

"Christ, not this intersection with the slow stoplight again. And the people in front of us are actually waiting for it. Wait, isn’t that your friend from school?"

Karina looked up from her new book, “The Moral Case for Fossil Fuels,” a stack of papers printed from her personal computer and stapled together at home.

“Drive in front of this car and do a donut in the intersection.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Trust me.”

“Why?”

“Do it now or I’ll break up with you again.”

“I’m calling the police,” said Salin’s mom.

“NO!” Salin grabbed her mom by the wrist. Her mom looked at her in stunned disbelief.

“We can’t!” Salin continued. “This isn’t Beijing! They’re lawless! Don’t turn me into the class tattletale! Please!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I know that you’re trying to protect your friend. She’s a bad influence.”

Karina stared at her watch. “...fourteen. Okay, that should be good.”

“I don’t know how to stop!”

“Maybe the brake pedal?”

“I mean I don’t want to stop!”

“Then don’t.”

The light turned back to red.

“You’ll destroy my reputation! You’ll turn her into the cool girl whose boyfriend is some kind of street racing drug dealer!” Salin yelled through tears.

“And she’ll deserve all the shame she gets for it.”

Dorian spun into the stoplight, knocking it down in a flurry of sparks. Salin groaned in frustration as her mom reported the incident. Following the speed limit, they drove past the wreckage as Dorian grinned at her and made twirling motions with his finger. Karina was laughing without looking at her.

"Did your boyfriend have fun in jail?" asked Salin.

"Nope, he's all free now."

Salin scowled. “Because your dad is a lawyer?”

“No. Dorian wanted to be his own lawyer, but the state provided one because he’s not old enough. He didn’t talk in court because I told him I’d break up with him if he did. The judge dismissed the case because property damage in California is legal if it’s under $2 million.”

Salin stared blankly. Then shook with rage. “That’s not fair!”

“We live in a society.”

“You’re a psycho!”

“At least I have friends.”

“Your only friend is your boyfriend. It’s weird.”

“That’s not true. You’re my friend.”

“No, I’m not.”

Karina laughed. “Yeah, you are. You’re my best, chosen friend. I’ll make sure of it.”

“That’ll never happen.”

“I can still help you with math if you want.”

“Ew. No. I hate you. You’re so weird.”

“再見, 秦薩藺 (See you again, Qin Salin).”