Music and light from the carnival rides blur around him, and the chatter and laughter of fairgoers fills the air, but Jim is unable to push aside the anxiety brewing within him.

"I'm really glad you were able to visit during the state fair," Dot Murray tells him.

His pulse quickens at her words, and anxiety twists his stomach. The Iowa State Fair. It's already August. Once Dad finishes his business in Iowa the day after next, they'll go back to New York. And then less than a week before he leaves for college.

"Are you all right?" Dot asks him, concerned. "You seem pretty stressed."

Jim sighs, exhaling slightly shakily. "Just nervous," he admits. "This whole college thing . . . it's a big change. I don't know if I'm ready to say goodbye to everyone, you know?"

"Things will definitely change," Dot agreed. "You'll be able to adapt, though, Jim. If anyone is good at meeting new people, it's you."

"Thanks. I'm so grateful to get college advice from a high school senior," Jim remarks dryly. He changes the subject away from himself. "What about you? Visited any colleges yet?"

"Started last summer." Dot grins. "About a dozen of them, all with figure skating programs." Her smile slips slightly, and there's a weary note in her voice when she adds, "Mostly ones three or five hours away from here."

"You'll do great," Jim says truthfully, clapping her on the shoulder. After all of his own worrying, it feels cathartic to reassure someone else.

"Thanks." She smiles, but then it fades. "I'm not so sure. I've loved ice-skating for years. Now I feel like I'm losing my edge. My parents are bound and determined that I'll win a scholarship, though, so . . ." she shrugs. "How's everybody in Westchester? Does Trixie wear that bracelet we bought for her?"

"Not . . . really," Jim hedges.

Dot laughs. "Well, I guess that's the last time you listen to girl advice a hopeless romantic like me," she jokes.

Jim sighs. "She's dating Dan Mangan, another member of our club."

Dot instantly sobers. "Oh, Jim, I'm so sorry."

Jim shakes his head. "Don't be. Dan's a good guy, and Trixie really likes him. I'm happy for them. We're all still friends. And . . ." he struggles to articulate his line of thinking. "In a way, I think she's better off with him than she would be with me."

Dot doesn't speak, but gives his shoulder a squeeze.

In an attempt to dispell the awkwardness, he asks about Dot's boyfriend. "How's Josh?"

"Josh is . . . fine," Dot replies haltingly. "I think we're going to part ways soon, though. Things are going to be busy enough during senior year without a relationship, too. We'll probably break up amicably, and stay friends afterward."

Jim nods in silent agreement. He knows how she must feel: it's difficult to let go of someone you care about, even when it's necessary.

Friends.

They continue walking in silence, listening to the various sounds around them. It's a deluge of whoops of laughter, jaunty carousel music, and the chatter of the crowd.

Looking at Dot, Jim takes in her graceful form: long, slim limbs toned from hours of athletics every day, excellent posture, and a lovely face set upon gently angled cheekbones. Her gleaming gold tresses are tied with a ribbon into a high ponytail.

There's no doubt: Dot Murray is beautiful, even glamorous.

Yet the clothes she's wearing are surprisingly tomboyish: denim cutoffs, a short-sleeved sweater with wide navy and white stripes, and neon pink ankle socks that match the swooshes on her blue Nike running shoes.

Jim catches Dot's eye and smiles at her. "Thanks for bringing me out tonight, Dot. It's nice of you to take my mind off of worrying."

Dot returns his smile and gives him a light punch in the arm. "No problem, Frayne. What are friends for, after all?"

Friends.

Though he nods in agreement, Jim can't help but dwell on the girl in front of him, as well as another boy and girl pair, and think about what was, what is, and what almost certainly never will be.

Author's Note: The part about Dot Murray and Jim selecting Trixie's bracelet together and Dot encouraging Jim to give it to Trixie comes from a story called "Dancing the Polka Dot," by Lydia. It's a wonderful story, and I recommend checking it out.