"So, let me get this straight, your neighbour is teaching you how to flirt?" Amanda asked skeptically as she skillfully piled a sushi roll into her mouth with chopsticks.

Amanda's parents were such esteemed lawyers that Amanda had gotten used to using chopsticks from a young age when she attended business dinners. She was quite good at it.

"He's teaching her how to express interest in men," Connie clarified as she used her chopsticks to pile sticky rice with some salmon.

Connie's parents migrated from China before Connie was born. They were absolutely loving and supportive, keeping the house filled with comfort and tradition and so she too, was an absolute pro at using the utensil.

I, on the other hand, had two epidemiologist parents who were scared of the world and rarely left the house or their labs, so naturally, I fumbled like an elephant in a ballet. Such was the tale of my life.

"He's not..." the chopsticks slid from my finger, "teaching me how to..." I caught a piece of sushi, "do anything per se," the fish fell off my utensil, "he's just..." I stabbed the piece viciously with the stick, "helping me..." it slid off my chopstick, "realize my potential," I huffed in frustration.

"How many sessions is it going to take for you to learn how to use those?" Amanda asked as she raised a delicious piece of sushi to her mouth.

Connie placed her fingers over mine and readjusted my hold, "Don't rush her, Amanda. She'll be able to do it no time." Connie was forever mothering everyone around her.

Amanda raised a brow, "It's been two years, Con."

"Everyone learns at their own pace," Connie murmured as she flicked her pin straight black hair behind her shoulder, "Try again," she encouraged.

I snatched the slithering fish and held it up as though I'd caught the animal myself, "Ha!" I shouted.

It slithered down with a disappointingly loud plop.

"Can I get a fork over here?" I called out to a waiter as he walked by us.

"So you're continuing with this Jackson idea then?" Amanda inquired, ignoring my tirades as she so often did. She sipped at her beer - a drink her parents would absolutely loathe that she was having, which seemed to be most of the fun for her since she hated beer.

"You mean continuing to court the love of my life? My future husband? Yes, Amanda." She clearly didn't understand love at first sight.

When you meet someone you instantly click with, you have to hold on for dear life. This was my guy. He was my chance at a happily ever after.

"Jackson's big game is coming up against the Delta Rogers next week and then there's the celebratory party so that's where I'll woo him. Wow him with my newly learned skills. Get him to fall for me, all that jazz," I elaborated on my master plan. Phase one: catch his eye as someone other than the embarrassing girl who admitted she loved him on their first encounter.

"Just a tad dramatic, Mabel," Amanda laughed.

Connie smiled at me, "I don't know. I think that's Mabel. She loves hard."

I don't know about that. There were plenty of things that I absolutely detested. Chopsticks for instance. It just so happened that Jackson wasn't one of those things.

"Don't you remember when you guys met?" Connie raised an eyebrow at Amanda as she took a graceful swig of her sake.

"She blabbed my ear off until I agreed to study with her," Amanda smiled at me as though I were a lost puppy that she had taken under wing.

If she was thinking that, she'd be right. I did trail after Amanda because she was just one of those 'cool girls' that I had spent my entire life reading about or seeing on TV but never experiencing first hand.

"I do not blab," I muttered as I was handed a fork by a disappointed waiter. I jabbed at a roll with the fork and savoured the taste of the sushi. Finally. "I'm an eloquent speaker, Amanda. You know that. How do you think I always get As on my group presentations? Because I'm so eloquent."

"People tend to stop listening to you after the first twenty minutes."

I huffed taking another bite. "I know you didn't learn this from your parents, Amanda, but sometimes a little coddling goes a long way."

"That's what you have me for!" Connie cooed, pinching my cheek before I swatted her hand away with my fork. "All joking aside Mabel, if you feel like you have a bond with Jackson, go all out in pursuing it. I just don't want you to lose sight of you along the way. You're special. You love with all your heart. Trust me, we both know this firsthand."

"Special," I snorted. "Special as in all neurons are not firing as they should be?"

"Special," Amanda piped in, "As in no one has ever dropped off three homemade meals a day for two weeks straight after a breakup. Not even Connie, Mabel. That says something."

"Excuse me." All three of us looked up to see a green eyed wonder staring back at us. "Don't mean to interrupt, ladies, but I was wondering if I could your number?" Wonder boy asked Amanda, looking starstruck.

It was the same look I had when I first met her.

She just had an aura about her. She looked cool. She was pretty cool, I mean. But most people don't look it.

"Sure," Amanda perked, giving the stud a look over with a small smile. She flicked her blonde hair delicately over her shoulder and wrote her number on a napkin. "Don't lose it," she winked before the guy turned around and walked back to his table in a jumbled mess.

"Hey!" I gasped, "You maintained eye contact! And smiled! And flirted! Oh my God, Marcus was right. He really is my Dumbledore. Or maybe he's my Snape. Who was more of a leading roll there? I know, mixed opinions."

"What are you talking about?" Amanda asked, slipping another piece of sushi in her mouth. As though this kind of thing happened to her everyday. It probably did, actually.

"I mean, I asked Marcus to show me the path. You know, to getting the love of my life to notice me," I explained for the thousandth time that day.

"Mmhm," Connie encouraged.

"And here I thought that he was kind of a womanizer or maybe he was kind of going to get me to act like a hooker or something, but you just did that. It's amazing. He was right. I won't dare question my teacher again."

Amanda rolled her large blue eyes at me, "You're so dramatic. I did not do that."

Here was yet another reason that I could blame my parents for sheltering me from the world. Girls like Amanda didn't even know they were doing something when they did it. They just learned from experience. I felt like I was entering into a new culture that I had to study from the outside.

Socializing normally? Don't have that down. Getting someone I like to notice me? Not a clue. Sometimes I felt like a lost cause. I wonder if there was an anonymous help group for people living with being homeschooled?

>>

I'm staring at my phone while writing this wondering why Mabel seems so familiar to me and then it hits me that she's like a nerdier, female version of Daniel! I guess I wasn't ready to say goodbye to him yet.