"Feliciano!"

I looked over my shoulder to see Ludwig looking at me. I turned around and waved. "Hi, Ludwig!"

"May I talk to you?"

"Sure!" I approached him so that we were close enough to talk comfortably. "What is it?"

"Er . . ." he looked around at the small crowds milling around. "Could it be somewhere more private?"

". . . Sure?" I followed him as he started striding briskly away from the buses. What could he want to talk about?

As we walked, I remembered Christmas Eve last, when I'd asked Eliza about what sex was.

"Eliza?" I asked as I finished my pancakes. She looked up.

"Yes, Feli?"

The sound of stepfather practicing the piano floated from the music room. "Um . . . what's sex?"

She raised her eyebrows and smiled a bit. "I was hoping that your grandfather would have told you . . . but you were rather young at the time." She sat down with me, putting down the cloth she'd been using to dry the dishes. "I could give you a book that explains it, if you like . . ."

"I'd rather hear it from you," I stated cheerfully. She shifted in her chair.

"All right . . . you know how boys tend to like girls?"

"You mean like love?" I asked.

"Yes, just like that. And girls tend to love boys. So, when a man and a woman love each other very much—" she paused. ". . . or if they're drunk, or want to experiment, they decide to have sex with each other."

I tilted my head.

"So, er . . . you know what you have . . . down there?" she gestured towards my pants.

"What—oh. Yeah. But girls have something different, right?"

"Mm-hm. Let's just say that it's a hole."

"A hole?"

"Yes, a hole. So when two people decide to have sex with each other, the man inserts his . . . thing into the woman's hole. When they're done, it's taken out."

I thought about this. "But . . . why?"

"The biological purpose—that is, the reason we do it naturally, is to reproduce. If everything goes correctly, a woman will get pregnant soon after sex."

"Oh, okay! Is there another reason?"

She nodded. "A lot of people do it for pleasure. Some people do it for money."

"Uh-huh . . ." I said, nodding. "But then if a lot of people do it for pleasure, why aren't there a lot more pregnant women?"

"Because a lot of people use something called birth control. The man puts a kind of sleeve over his . . . thing, and the woman takes a pill."

"Okay!" I got up and put my dishes in the sink. "I think I get it! Thanks, Eliza!"

The piano playing abruptly stopped. We heard footsteps, and stepfather poked his head into the room. "Feliciano, refer to her as 'stepmother'. Calling her by her first name is disrespectful."

"Roderich, I really don't mind—"

"The boy needs to learn manners, Elizabeth."

"Thanks, stepmother," I said to avoid an argument.

Since then, the one person I'd thought about more than anyone else, right up to the day we came back to school from break, was Ludwig. No, that wasn't right; I'd also thought about my first love, the boy I so dearly missed. I liked Ludwig a lot, but I couldn't be with him. I had to wait for my first love.

We turned the corner to face the back of the gym. Ludwig might have thought that this was a good place for a private talk, but two others had apparently decided the same thing: Gil and Matthew. They were making out with each other (though from here it looked like Gilbert was doing all the work and Matthew was just going along with it). Matthew's face was flushed red and his eyes were shut. It looked like a lot of fun.

Ludwig grabbed me by the collar and dragged me with him out of sight of the couple, his face slightly red. "Let's find a different place."

We found a large pine tree that we could take shelter underneath. Ludwig glanced around to make sure that no one was near enough to hear, and he cleared his throat. I looked at him expectantly.

"Feliciano . . ." he said. "I . . ."

"Hm?"

"I . . . like you."

"I like you too!" I said happily.

"No, Feliciano, I really like you," he said quickly, his face still red. "Really, really like you."

I stared at him. He really felt the same way?

"So . . . Feliciano, what I'm saying is . . ." he cleared his throat again. "Will . . . you be my boyfriend?"

I looked down. "I . . . I'm sorry . . ."

He looked at me.

"I can't."

"Why not!?" he exclaimed. "Oh . . . you already have a partner, don't you? Or do you not like men? I'm so stupid . . ."

"No, I like girls and boys," I said quickly. "And I like you too! A lot . . . I think you're a great guy! You're really strong and handsome, and . . . and you're nice . . . but I can't go out with you."

"But why?"

"It's just . . . I'm waiting for someone," I explained. "My first love. I know I'll see him again if I just wait. So . . . so I can't go out with you! Didn't you have a first love?"

He put his head in his hands. "Of course I did! A girl, a beautiful girl with short copper hair! But I don't think I'm ever going to see her again! I've waited this long and I haven't seen hide nor hair of her! When I met you . . . I just . . . I started to love you, Feliciano! I thought it was all right, in some way, since you remind me of her! You two even have similar names! So, please, give up on this boy and go out with me!"

I shook my head violently. "How can you ask me to give up on him? I love him so much, and I know he loved me too! Maybe he gave up on seeing me again, I don't know! But I'm going to see him again, I know it! In fact, you remind me of him a lot, and that just makes this harder!"

"Please," he said desperately, "listen . . . sometimes you just meet people and then you never see them again! It's not their fault, you know it isn't, but it just happens! Feliciano—"

I turned and ran away before he said anything else. The wind stung my eyes, making them water—not that they needed the help.

Lunchtime was incredibly awkward. Ludwig and I didn't say a word to each other the entire to time. Gil kept glancing between us, making me think that Ludwig had told him about our exchange this morning.

After I finished lunch, before the bell rang, Lovi pulled me into the bathroom. "What's wrong?"

"What?" I said.

"I'm not stupid, Feliciano. I know something's wrong with you and the potato bastard. Did he do something to you?"

I looked away so he couldn't see my expression. "No, not really."

He turned my head back towards him. "You're a terrible liar. What happened? You can tell me; I won't tell anyone. You know I won't."

I opened my mouth. "It's—it's just—"

"What?"

"We talked this morning—" I mumbled, tears filling my eyes. "—He asked me—" they fell to the ground. "—I said—I said—"

I buried my face in Lovi's shoulder and cried. He hugged me and patted me on the back.

"It's okay, Feli," he murmured. "It's okay."