It's been a week already.

A week spent dating Smartass Pete.

And there will be no more.

A week was enough.

When I tell him, he's not surprised at all. He's smart, after all. Even when I drop the great classic, he agrees. We can still be friends.

"I'm relieved," I admit to him. "I hoped we could finish it on friendly terms."

"Yeah," he laughs. "This thing can only work between two people who don't really care for each other."

"We qualify then." I smile.

"One last fuck?" he asks, without missing a beat. "On friendly terms, of course."

"Not today. I just have to go home."

He doesn't ask me why. He's smart, after all.

"When you're frustrated, you can call me anytime, you know," he tells me when I get out of his car. "Without obligations. Oh, okay. I know that you know. I just wanted to make it excessively clear."

I promise him that I will. Then, even if it's late at night, I fetch my son from Ms. Okoro's. I want him to sleep at home at last.

The next morning, in the office, I still meet the usual disapproving gazes. It's been a week already too. Since I've been dating Smartass Pete.

"Okay," I say, turning to Ollie. "It's the last time I care to ask. Why is everyone so concerned about whom I fuck? Like, seriously. Everyone is tense. I feel it. And I'm clueless."

"For some reason, we thought you were still mourning your husband." She shrugs.

"For some reason?!"

"Okay, it's not true. It just annoys me."

"Why?" I ask.

"Like, is it the way it has to be? The ways of the world? You with Smartass Pete? Mark with a Victoria's Secret model? And me with a... what does this leave for me?"

"I always thought you'd be great with Peter Parker." I smile at her. "You know, Spiderman."

"It's no laughing matter! Who do I deserve in a world so well arranged? A pimp? Like all the women in my family?"

"Babe, you're on the verge of being hysterical. What's wrong, really? If you're feeling desperate at the moment, why don't you take a chance on Liam? He's a bit younger, but very cute."

"He dates white girls only," she whispers to me.

"What?!"

"Not so loud, please! It's not racism, he's just not... you know, sexually attracted."

"Oh."

"Oh, what?" she asks. "Do you have this, too?"

I try very hard to resist the blushing, which arrives with some disturbingly picturesque memories from the ball. I also try to prevent myself from an instinctive glance in the direction of Mr. Warren's office. I succeed only with the latter.

"No," I declare. "I don't."

"Ah, okay." Ollie shrugs. "But it's not about me at all. It's just... you know, Pete and you, both being so clever, seems like the perfect match. Like it's predestination. Like there's no way to change it."

She seems much more disturbed by it than any theoretical matter should make her. I kind of give up on discovering her reasons.

"Okay," I tell her. "I'm sorry to crush your fantasies of a perfect world, but I just axed Smartass Pete."

Then I raise my voice.

"And this goes for Bill, Thelma, and everyone else, having an unhealthy interest in my love life lately. You can stop eavesdropping now. It's a relief, isn't it?"

If I thought that Bill would be ashamed, I'd feel disappointed now. But I never expected him to be. Not for a single moment.

"Why did you give him the bounce?" he addresses me from the door of his office. "Did he stop to give great head?"

I cast a reproachful glance to Ollie.

"No," I answer loud and proud. "He just grew a bit too smart for it lately."

"Meaning what?" Bill asks, somewhat puzzled.

"I see, you're very interested in the topic, Bill." I shrug. "Okay, then. Let this be a moment of revelation for you. Something to remember for the rest of your life. Let me tell you this: you never say anything smart over a clit, all right?"

"What the—"

"No," I interrupt him firmly. "You just don't."

"I—"

"No, Bill," I state. "Never."

"I—"

"No. Never, ever. Period."

"Oh, for—"

"No," I insist in my most resolute tone. "You just shut up, Bill, and do what the situation requires. Simple as that."

Everyone is in stitches. Everyone but Bill. He still tries to clarify the situation.

"I just—"

"No. You just don't, Bill. If everyone could just shut up over a clit, the world would be a better place."

"Stop it—"

"Ah, what is this? I hear something. Some music. Do you hear it too?"

"What the—"

"Heal the world, make it a better place," I hum. "Aw, it's so fitting."

Liam is laughing so hard, he almost falls off of his chair. Ollie is giggling uncontrollably. Thelma looks like she's about to wet herself. I decide to spare Bill from further mocking. I don't want to overdo it, he's my boss, after all. But he is a good sport, as always.

"Okay, we all got it," he says, raising his hands. "We are not welcome to pry into your life. But, just for the record, I know how to shut up."

"Are you sure?" I ask him seriously. "For a moment you sounded almost too smart for it too."

"I'd rather bite my tongue off than bring up anything like this in your presence, thank you. You're savage."

I'd like to thank him, but suddenly everyone turns to the entrance. Mr. Warren arrived.

The bandages are off of his hand finally.

He looks a little puzzled by the commotion, but he says nothing. Not until Thelma casts a glance at Bill and breaks out in laughter. With everyone else joining in.

"What?" Mr. Warren asks. "If I have this effect on you, I go out and come in again. It's nice to see you having a good time."

"It's not on you," Thelma snorts.

"Mira just did a stand-up gig." Bill shrugs.

"On what?" Mr. Warren asks, turning to me.

I suddenly feel like leaving. I smile at Bill.

"Bill, will you please be so kind, and brief Mr. Warren? I just have to go to the court with Ollie, and we are late already."

Bill palms his face. Ollie just giggles.

"We are, Mira, let's go!" She grins, and we flee the office together.

The trial is boring as hell. Ollie does what she has to, but I can see that she can hardly wait for it to finish. When we are allowed to leave, she invites me to a nearby café.

"Your stand-up gig was great, babe," she tells me. "But I'm dying to hear your true reasons."

"You heard them."

"Okay." She pouts.

"You didn't tell me either why you were concerned about me sleeping with him. Your true reasons."

"It's not something I can tell you, Mira. Nothing I can put in words."

"Ah, okay," I sigh. "So it's a mystery."

"Kind of. But I bet Pete is not. What was the problem then? Is he in love with his own voice? Does he talk all the time, just to show off? Is he annoying?"

"All of these are true." I shrug. "Everyone knows that, babe, who met him just once. And I didn't give him the ax for just being himself."

"Why then?"

"He wanted to go serious."

"Wait, is that a problem?" she asks.

"His version of serious. Like dating someone single. Wanting all my nights. Wanting all my time and all my attention for himself."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Ollie, in this sense I'm not a single. I have a son."

"Babe, you know I'd babysit him seven times a week." She smiles. "Just say it. Ben is my dream date."

"I know, babe. But the problem is not that I'm not a trouble-free single anymore."

"What is it then?"

"That I don't want to be that either."

"Oh, Mira." She caresses my hand.

"No biggie, babe." I shrug. "Just... you know, a man spending a whole week without asking a single question about your child, is okay. A man talking about finding his soulmate finally, is okay too. A man doing both at the same time, is not okay. And that's it."

"You're right," she sighs.

"Besides... he was entertaining. Also, quite creative in bed. But no sparks."

"Okay. I bet you'll soon have another."

"Why do you think so?" I ask her.

"You have this quality... I don't know, to turn people upside down and inside out. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm quite sure Smartass Pete hasn't spent an entire week with anyone since he was eighteen. So yeah, you're right, it was his version of serious. You made him think about himself and his life, I guess. You just do that. And it's both scary and bewitching at the same time."

"I don't do this, babe." I shrug.

"Right. You don't do. You are."

"Sounds like a mystery too."

"Right." She nods. "Your invisible powers crawl under their skin and make them ache. How does it sound?"

"Like chronic radiation sickness?" I guess.

"What?! No! It's the miracle of love," Ollie says in a dead serious tone.

"Not really. The miracle of love will take away your pain. Not cause it, right?"

"Oh, babe." She smiles. "You're so much better at pop songs than at life."

"I know."

"By the way, I'm sorry for mentioning your husband," she says. "It was mean of me. I just assumed that he was the reason barring you from a new relationship."

"He's not. By the way, this, with Smartass Pete wasn't a relationship. It was fucking."

"Ouch. You spent a week with him."

"Regular fucking."

"What did I tell you about the defense system of Pentagon?" she asks. "How could someone approach you at all?"

"As far as I noticed, you wanted Pete to do anything but approach me," I point out.

"I'm serious, Mira. How? Is it possible at all?"

"In stealth, maybe? Staying under the radar? Coming very close without me noticing? Working his way under my skin while I look the other way?"

"Wow. And now you're not even joking," she muses.

"I'm not."

"This sucks," Ollie sighs.

"Why? Do you prefer someone to overcome it by sheer force? Like, break on through to the other side? Break on through, break on through... okay, I shut up."

"Okay."

"... and dance."

"Mira, please."

"Sorry, babe."