Once upon a time in a galaxy not entirely unlike our own, there was a girl. There was nothing extraordinary about this girl. She was by her own estimation a relatively simple sort, yet she was cursed. For as long as she could remember, her romantic life had been something of a disaster. Boys either fell too hard, too fast, or not at all. She had long since given up on the notion of a functional relationship, which is why, in the winter of her 19th year, she was surprised to find herself in the company of a boy who made her feel as if the curse had been lifted... if only temporarily.

Joey Potter stood in front of a department store window, staring down at a festive faux-town covered in holiday trappings, and wondered, Could one be cursed by love?

She did not believe in curses. But she had learned to believe in love. At least that it existed. Though the jury was still out on the lasting part.

See, Joey Potter was in love. Well and truly. She never thought it would happen again, that it could be possible. She thought she was destined to be the girl trapped between two childhood friends, the girl that made The Choice That Changed Everything, the one that could never let go of the past, no matter how hard she tried. Yet, she was in love. With a nice boy not from Capeside, but from Worcester. A different boy. A boy that allowed her to be different. With Eddie Doling, Joey got a brand-new blank slate. And the third time was a charm, right?

So...chocolate or vanilla? she asked him, enjoying the alien notion of actually getting to know a boy she loved. From scratch. No prior iterations to get in the way. Even this, just walking beside him as snow drifted down around them, holding his hand in a city that she had only one year's acquaintance with, was a fresh and vitally diverging experience.

Chocolate, Eddie replied, casual and cavalier as he walked alongside her.

Cake or pie? Joey inquired next, squeezing one of his hands between both of hers, her woolen mittens keeping the chill of winter away, yet not preventing the warmth of this boy's hand from permeating through, making her giddy.

Pie, he responded, smirking, sliding a wry sidelong glance at her.

Coke or Pepsi?

Coke.

Christmas or Halloween?

Halloween.

That settles it, Joey pronounced. We have nothing in common.

Well, the sex is good, Eddie drawled, sardonic.

Please, she huffed, raising an arch brow. I had better sex in elementary school.

This, of course, was not true, as she did not have actual intercourse until well into high school, but this was verbal footsies. Harmless contrivances were part and parcel. Besides, for once, she did not feel her usual skittishness, and that was a favorable sign pointing to the emerging fact that yes indeed, the third time – or rather, third partner – was the charmed one.

Ok. Are we done with this month's Cosmo compatibility test? Eddie asked now. Can we just get on with our lives?

Not so fast. I have one more question.

And she asked him, sort of, if he'd like to come home with her for the holidays. To Capeside. To her family. Also, to her friends. And then, Wow. I just crossed a line into that world where girls pressure their boyfriends into doing stuff with them, and then-- I just referred to you as my boyfriend. I'm a mess. I apologize. Eddie accepted her apology, but she rescinded it, quick. You know... actually... Eddie, I take that back. I want you to meet my dysfunctional family. I want you to help me convince my retarded sister that we should buck tradition and throw out our stupid fake Christmas tree and get a real one for a change. Is--is that wrong?

At first, she thought she mucked it all up. This getting to know a boy you were in love with was a treacherous business. No past dynamic of over-analytical assessments nor bully-banter and body-blows – once literal, then figurative – at the ready for a quick and dirty exchange. No childhood anecdotes to rely on for blackmail or bargaining. No known key to put into this lock of a door opening into the unknown. He was unfamiliar, this Boy Not From Capeside.

Ok. First of all, I have a dysfunctional family all my own, so I won't be celebrating with a TV dinner under a bare bulb, if that's what you're worried about, Eddie interjected, before Joey could careen further into neurotic speculations of should and shouldn't says. And second-- I don't know if it's such a good idea at this juncture.

What juncture is that? Joey asked, truly curious. The thing about taking roads less-traveled – or not-traveled, as her case may be -- was that you were forced to keep asking these godforsaken questions, letting the boy lead for a change. Joey did not usually like to let the boy lead. But then, she'd only loved two other boys before. And they always had all the answers between the three of them.

Well, the juncture of too much and too soon.

We're even, then.

What does that mean?

Joey giggled. She actually giggled – no scowls or retorts or wordy defenses. It means that clearly I'm a typical girl and, based on what you just said, you're very much a typical guy.

Hey, you know, meeting the family's a huge deal, especially this time of year, Eddie clarified. I mean, I'd probably have to put on some kind of a sweater. You know, like a holiday sweater. And I gotta tell you, I hate sweaters. I look stupid in sweaters.

I bet you look very nice in sweaters, Joey contradicted, reassuring. She was enjoying this back-and-forth with Eddie.

All right, pencil me in for president's weekend. I'll be there. I promise.

Fine. But don't think we're ever having sex again.

Eddie laughed, mocking.

What? Joey protested. But her dark eyes twinkled.

What a typical girl, using sex as a weapon.

Shut up, she replied, just this side of warning. Eddie took the hint.

You're very pretty. Have I told you that? he said, tossing her his best charming grin and winsome puppy-dog eyes.

Sucking up will get you nowhere, Joey retorted.

But of course, this as well was a harmless contrivance.

And, Joey determined, whether or not she believed in them, so too would be curses.