When Gilligan entered the hut, Skipper sat at the table. "I was thinking of playing some cards for a bit, Little Buddy. Do you want to play some Crazy Eights, or shall I set up solitaire," he said, as he shuffled.

"Crazy Eights," Gilligan offered, with a grin. He knew he wouldn't be getting to sleep any time soon. Skipper wasn't going to bed until he had some good information. Skipper started dealing, then he put on his poker face.

He flipped over a Jack of Spades, laid down the draw pile and picked up his cards.

Gilligan looked at his hand and laid down a Jack of Hearts. "Hmmmm, hearts, huh," said Skipper. "Hearts are a funny thing."

Gilligan glanced up at him, but didn't reply. Skipper put down a 2 of Hearts. "And when you get two hearts together, that's when things can really get complicated."

Gilligan laid down an 8 of Hearts. He said, "Yeah, well I'm done with Hearts. Here's an 8. Let's see – I'm going with Clubs."

Skipper laid down a King of Clubs, and Gilligan followed with a 9. Then Skipper switched back with a 9 of Hearts. "Oh look at that," he chuckled. "We're back at hearts again."

"Skipper," Gilligan asked, laughing "Did you stack this deck?"

Skipper sputtered and put on an affronted face. "Of course not, Little Buddy. Why would you think I did that?"

"Oh, I dunno . . . maybe because you're dying to know what's going on with me and MaryAnn and our 'hearts'. Gilligan answered sagely. He grinned, and Skipper couldn't help but grin back.

"Alright, you caught me." He admitted, chuckling. "In all seriousness, though, Gilligan, is there something going on with you and MaryAnn and your . . . 'hearts'?"

Gilligan laid his cards down and put his chin in his hand. He sighed. "I'm just not sure, Skipper. I've never been very good at figuring girls out."

"What's to figure out, Little Buddy. It's pretty obvious that she likes you." That little detail was the one that had Skipper concerned.

"Well, MaryAnn's so pretty." Gilligan whispered.

"Of course, she is," Skipper answered. "She's also the sweetest, little thing I think you or I have ever met."

Gilligan looked down at the table for a minute, so Skipper couldn't read his face. When he looked back up, he was scowling.

"It's just that . . . all through school . . . it was the real pretty ones that picked on me. They laughed at me, they set me up for pranks, their boyfriends beat me up." He grew silent for a minute and sighed. "I just keep waiting for the shoe to drop, know what I mean? Maybe she's just being nice and doesn't really like me that way at all."

"Now wait just a minute, Gilligan. MaryAnn would NOT set you up. She's too nice a person for that. She doesn't play head games like some girls do." Skipper hesitated, not sure that he wanted to say what he wanted to say. "I believe she DOES like you . . . a lot. She laughs with you, not at you. And she seems to really enjoy spending time with you . . . heck, she's always trying to find an inconspicuous reason to do so."

Gilligan fiddled with the cards on the table in front of him. He shifted through the drawn pile and picked up the 2 of Hearts. "Oh, I know she'd never be mean to me . . . but . . . I'm scared, Skipper," he whispered again. "I'm scared of putting my heart out there to get stomped on. I know that she's too nice to ever try to hurt me on purpose . . . it's just that . . . I'm sure not used to pretty girls like her treating me as nice as she treats me."

He thought about it some more. "But she does laugh at my stories . . . and she likes the same science fiction movies that I do . . . and she likes rock and roll like I do . . . and she does like butterfly hunting and climbing trees and swimming and hiking with me . . . and when everybody else is sore at me for messing something up, she always tries to cheer me up." He smiled. "Maybe she really does like me."

Skipper sighed. Part of him knew that Gilligan was 23 and was bound to notice girls sooner or later, especially MaryAnn. The other part of him was hoping that his Little Buddy stayed as innocent and naïve as he was right now.

"Gilligan," he said. "I really think that she does like you. And it's pretty obvious that you like her, too. Just . . . just take things slow and easy." He hesitated. He blushed. He started to stammer a bit.

"Skipper, you're not worried about . . . about . . ." and then Gilligan blushed, too. "Skipper, I'm scared to death just to hold her hand. When I kissed her today, I did it so fast, and then I ran away faster than I've ever run before."

"Wait – you kissed her?" Skipper asked, a little shocked. "Really? What happened?"

"I just told you what happened. I kissed her . . . and then I ran for it." Gilligan answered. "Anyway, I'm not about to go rushing into anything you need to worry about. I'll be happy if I can get to a point where I can hold her hand without heading for the jungle."

"Well, what did she do when you kissed her?"

Gilligan sighed. "I don't know. I told you . . . I was running away too fast."

Skipper picked up the cards and started shuffling them – really shuffling them, this time. "New game?" he asked.

Gilligan grinned. "Sure. One round, anyway. I want to get up early tomorrow. MaryAnn and I are having a picnic in the butterfly field." Skipper's eyes grew wide, and he started to stammer again. Gilligan pulled his hat down over his face and started giggling. "I'm kidding. I'm just kidding." He pulled his hat back and flipped up the rim. "Just deal the cards, Skipper," he said, still chuckling.