Fifteen-year old Roger Davis couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was standing outside his best friend Mark's bathroom…and he could hear an infatuated "La la la…dum dee dum…"

Roger smirked. Little Mark was growing up.
The door opened, and Mark pranced out as if something had just bit his ankle. He noticed Roger leaning against the wall, grinning coyly, and his face went red.

"D-did you hear me?" Mark asked timidly.

"I sure did, man. You're crushing on someone, aren't you?"

Mark didn't answer. His eyes averted to the floor, and he rushed into his bedroom. Roger followed him, and gave him a cogent stare.

"Yeah." Mark whispered. Roger clapped his hands together. "Wait a go, Mark! Now you gotta tell me…who's the lucky babe?"
Mark hadn't felt this humiliated for a long time. "It's…"
"Yeah!"
"It's Maureen Johnson."

Roger was dumbfounded. "Maureen! You mean that annoying drama queen that lives next-door?"

Mark glared. "Yes, that one. You wanted to know, didn't you?"
"Well, yeah, but--"

Mark plopped onto his bed and sighed angrily. "I don't find her annoying at all! She's beautiful, and witty, and—and—''

"Dramatic?" Roger sneered.
Mark opened his mouth to protest, but then to his own shock, nodded. Roger immediately rushed over to the dusty, overcrowded bookshelf next to Mark's closet, and pulled out last year's yearbook. Sitting next to Mark, Roger flipped to the ninth grade page and flipped through the names.

"Jay…Jetson….ah! Johnson!" he exclaimed, placing a finger on Maureen's yearbook picture. Her black hair fell in oily curls around her square face. Her tiny eyes seemed to glitter (maybe it was because of the camera flash, Roger assumed), and large hoop earrings dangled from her earlobes. Her full lips were pale from the funny shade of lipstick she had worn that day, and five different chokers coiled around her neck. She was wearing a scoop-neck plaid top with triangular shoulder-pads. Roger scoffed. "Snrk..she looks like a brunette Madonna wannabe."
Mark examined her picture, then flipped backwards to the "D" section. Finding 'Davis', he pointed at Roger's picture and raised an eyebrow. "She looked a hell of a lot better than you did."

Roger's face turned an odd shade of pink. His picture WAS rather embarrassing…his hair was short, and was flat on one side and poofy on the other. He had worn a magnetic nose ring that day, and since the pictures were black + white, it looked like he had a very shiny, white dot painted on his nostril. His smile was lopsided, because he was trying to hide his unruly braces. Little pimples dotted his chin.

Roger's hands flew to his face. "Well, at least I look better now!" He licked his teeth, enjoying the smooth texture of a braces-free mouth.

Mark sighed. "Look, you should probably leave. I've got an algebra exam to study for."
"Yeah, Mrs. Springs's tests are always the pits." Roger agreed, then stood up and grabbed his denim jacket.
"I'll see you around, then."
"Bye, Roger."
Mark closed the yearbook, and just as he put it back on the shelf, Roger called from the front door, "Good luck with the Drama Queen!"