Love is important; Slack off and flirt with Madison

The question is funny to you. In our modern society, shouldn't love be the most important thing? After all, most people have soulless jobs and don't know their neighbors. You need something to give your life real meaning, and you've always naturally figured that it was friends, family, and of course romantic partners.

You realize, as you ponder, that everyone else is already writing. Including Madison next to you. How much were you supposed to write, anyway? Professor Lemburg wasn't clear. Is she grading this? You write one sentence about how love is important, then you glance over at Madison.

"Hey," you whisper. "What was your answer?"

She is biting her lip in frustration as she tries to write, but the moment you talk to her she looks up. You feel a little guilty, like you kicked over someone with crutches who was trying to climb the stairs.

"I think, like...love is really important," she says. "It's all about the special people in your life. Like my bestie Kayla, and all the other Phi Beta girls in my sorority, and my mom, and my dad, and my dog Bruno. I don't know. I have a lot of people who love me, now, and I know how important it is."

Now? The word hangs there between you. You almost feel uncomfortable with all the things that it implies. You've just started talking to her.

Instead you just say, "I get it. People knock on the idea of being popular, but they don't realize how bad it is to actually be unpopular. How important it is to have a lot of friends instead of no friends."

She grins. "Like, absolutely! I am so glad that you get me. So that's what love means to me, I guess. Not just getting married. It means having people who care about you. And there's nothing more important in the world!"

Despite everything, there's a sort of sweetness to her, isn't there? You could see how, maybe if certain...attributes...were not the most important thing, and if certain...other attributes...were, there'd be a lot to like about her.

The class goes on. After twenty minutes Lemburg ends the writing exercise, and goes on to talking about the syllabus. You tune a lot of it out, as it's what you've heard before. At the end of the class, Madison starts packing up.

"Like, thank you so much, Ryan," she smiles. "You're a sweet guy."

And then, as you stand up, something immensely unexpected happens. She leans forward and kisses you on the cheek.

You feel the red lipstick mark with your hand, and she giggles. "I get it," she says. "You put yourself at a lot of personal risk coming over and talking to me like that. A lot of girls would be, like, super insulted or weirded out. If it was the other way around and I did a cost-benefit analysis, I wouldn't have done it."

Wait, cost-benefit? Hold the fucking phone. Why would she say that?

But before you can ask her, she's gone.