Linus and Sally's tennis partnership had started in the most childish way possible: Linus had only asked her to start playing with him because no one else had been up to it, and Sally had only accepted because of her massive crush on him.

It was now six years since they'd started playing together, and things had changed considerably. The kids that had once been little Sally Brown and her "sweet babboo" were now the 16-year-old mixed doubles champs of the Sparkyville Country Club, and it was a long-standing tradition that they'd meet up to play on at least two Saturdays a month. Today, they had agreed, would be of those days.

A bouncy Sally came out of her room at 8:30, clad in a tennis dress and a pair of well-worn white tennis shoes. "Morning, big brother," she greeted.

Charlie, curled up in a corner of the couch with his phone in hand, looked up. "Hey, Sal. Playing with Linus today?"

"Yep," she answered as she dug through the front closet for a pack of tennis balls.

"And is he driving you, or do you need a ride?"

"Nah, he'll drive. It's easier that way," said Sally. "Say, big brother, is it just me, or have you not gone to work all week?"

"No, I haven't. Mr. Shlabotnik gave me the week off so I could figure out my schedule for the school year."

"Joe Shlabotnik," she giggled. "I don't know how you can say that name with a straight face, big brother."

"You get used to it," answered Charlie somewhat uncomfortably.

"Well, whenever you get back to work," proceeded Sally, "let me know, because I need to buy some new tennis shoes and tennis balls."

"And I suppose it's never occurred to you that you could buy those things without preying on my employee discount?"

"No, it hasn't," she replied cheekily. "Anyway, I'd better bounce. I'm supposed to meet Linus in…" She glanced at her watch. "Oh. Five minutes ago. I'll just say goodbye to Mom and Dad and go," she called as she headed toward the kitchen.

"Hey, Mom. I'm going now."

Mrs. Van Pelt looked up from some papers spread out on the kitchen counter when her son entered the room. "Oh, are you playing with Sally today?"

"Yep," answered Linus absentmindedly, pulling a bottle of juice out of the fridge and stuffing it into his duffel bag.

"What time will you be back?"

"Most likely by noon."

"That's good, because I'll need you here to help me with dinner. We're having company and I'm making lasagna."

"Oh, who's coming?"

"The usuals," answered Julia. "Browns, Reichardts, Schroeders."

"Ooh," winced Linus, stopping in the doorway and turning back around. "Mom, I wouldn't mention that to Lucy if I were you. She and Schroeder are kind of having a problem."

"Really? What sort of problem? Didn't they have a date last night?"

"They were supposed to, but apparently they had a fight." He shrugged. "I don't know what it was about — Lucy wouldn't tell us — but she was pretty on edge about it."

"Hmm." Julia nodded slowly as she considered. "Well, then I won't tell her they're coming. I'll just say Clara and Paul are coming, and maybe when the Schroeders show up, she and Thomas will get a chance to talk things over."

Linus nodded his approval. "Good plan, Mom."

"All right, Sal," said Linus as he tossed a ball from one hand to the other, "singles or doubles?"

"Singles, I guess," she sighed. "I don't wanna have to play against Molly Volley."

"Right," he laughed. "Well, I would've liked to invite Lucy and Schroeder along — I was counting on them having made up by now — but that didn't happen."

"Well, you could've just asked Lucy and I'd have asked my big brother," pointed out Sally.

Linus shook his head. "Lucy was still asleep when I left. I guess this thing has her pretty shaken up."

"Oh."

"So you have no idea what it was about?"

"Nope. All I know is, she was late to Vi's party, and Schroeder was even later, and when he tried to talk to her, she just refused and walked away. But she wouldn't say a thing to me beyond, 'We had a little issue, it's no big deal.'"

"Hmm. Odd. Well, anyway, my mom told me that we were having you guys and the Schroeders over for dinner tonight, so maybe we can try to figure it out then."

Lucy awoke late, rubbing her eyes and squinting in the bright sunlight streaming in through her windows. She sighed softly as she sat there, patting down unkempt strands of hair and feeling strangely at peace — until memories of last night flooded her consciousness, immediately giving her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She looked down at her lap and realized she was still wearing last night's blue dress, with its beige smear of Sally's makeup on the left sleeve and all. A glance around her also made Lucy realize she was all tangled up in her blanket, but the bed was still made beneath. And her hands — she looked at them in confusion for a moment. What were these black smears on them?

Oh… she realized suddenly. "Mascara. Stupid, smeary mascara," she muttered as she stumbled out of bed and toward the bathroom. She remembered as she washed her face what had happened when she'd gotten home last night: she had brushed her teeth, then collapsed onto her bed mumbling to herself that she'd only close her eyes for a moment, and then she'd wash her face and do everything else.

But of course, she hadn't.

Under the circumstances Lucy decided she should take a hot shower to forget her troubles — but sadly they continued to follow her around. She found herself lost in something Schroeder had said when he had run after her last night: "We talked Beethoven and Jane Austen."

Schroeder had been a fan of Jane Austen for about four years now. Dana had insisted he read Pride and Prejudice when he was 14, and when he did, he suddenly became absorbed in it — even Beethoven briefly took a back seat in favor of Miss Austen's works. Lucy had never understood why all the mush and gush of such a novel interested Schroeder, or why he'd talked endlessly of Lizzy Bennet and how much he admired her. It was just a book, after all — why did he make such a big deal out of it?

At her sixteenth birthday, Schroeder had given Lucy two gifts: one, the song; "Linus and Lucy." This gift she had loved with every fiber of her being. And two, a copy of Pride and Prejudice. That gift, she'd put on a shelf, meaning to "read it one of these days" — but 18 months later, she hadn't even cracked the spine yet. Lucy simply couldn't bear the idea of reading those long, Victorian-era type sentences and funny words like "felicity," "mischance," or "thither."

Seeing that this first attempt had failed, Schroeder had next tried to get Lucy to watch the movie adaptation, but she had fallen asleep in the first 10 minutes. And in this way it was declared hopeless: he'd never make an Austenite out of her.

But Nancy, apparently, was into that kind of thing. She was a Beethoven-hearing, Austen-reading, pretty girl with captivating eyes and a sweet, innocent smile — and the more Lucy thought about how she'd entered to find Schroeder so engrossed in his time with her, the more unsettled she became. The feeling only grew and grew as she got dressed, brushed her hair, tidied her room… Finally it reached a point where she couldn't stand it, and she decided not to think about it anymore.

Of course, this new resolution didn't have much success.

"HA!" crowed Sally triumphantly. "Love-40! Again!"

Linus chuckled ruefully at the younger girl's gloating. "So it is."

"Honestly, Linus, where is your head today? You've lost every set!"

"I won one," he answered defensively.

"Wow," she smirked with an eye roll. "But seriously, what's wrong with you?"

"Oh, I don't know, I guess I'm just thinking about school and… all of that. Senior year and stuff."

Sally stood with crossed arms and a cocked eyebrow as Linus stammered through his explanation. "You know what, Van Pelt? You're a hopeless liar. What's on your mind?"

"Well, nothing I care to discuss now," he finally admitted, color rising in his cheeks.

"Oh, I see…" she began as they walked off the court. "It's about a girl, isn't it?"

He looked at her curiously. "Why would you assume that?"

"I've known you basically my whole life, Linus. I know a few things about your personality, okay?" He remained silent, so she added: "Like the fact that your voice goes up two octaves when you're hiding something."

"Does it?" he squeaked. "Oh. Even I noticed that one."

"I rest my case. So who is it?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"Because… because…"

"Because I'd get jealous," interrupted Sally. "Is that it?"

Linus hesitated slightly, but finally, avoiding eye contact, nodded.

"Well, you don't have to worry about me, Linus. In case you haven't noticed, it's been like, five years since I called you 'sweet babboo'."

"What— that doesn't mean that— okay, but you're like, always flirting with me."

"Well, you know I don't mean it. I only do it for fun, and only because you bear it like no one else would," she explained, giving him a winning smile.

"Oh, sure," he drawled, eyeing her skeptically.

"I'm serious!"

"How do I know you're not just being all nice and understanding so you can find out who she is and then go pick a fight with her at school?"

Sally scoffed, and assuming a more serious expression, answered, "I would never do that, Linus. Don't you know me at all?"

Guilt began clouding Linus's face at this, but before he could come up with an answer, she proceeded: "I might lock her in the janitor's closet, but I'd never—"

"Oh, Sally!" he exclaimed, frowning but with a laughing tone in his voice.

She began to laugh heartily at this. "Oh, I'm just messing with you. Come on, spill. Don't be such a Lucy."

He crossed his arms defiantly and shook his head. "Uh-uh."

Sally frowned. "All right, fine. Fine — be that way. Be a Lucy and don't tell me anything. Just make sure you do something about whoever this person is so next time we play, you're actually a worthy opponent."

They were in the parking lot by now, and Sally, being done with her scolding, finished by huffing in exasperation, and began taking quicker steps, leaving Linus some paces behind. He frowned.

Sally Brown was an enigma. Linus had sustained this philosophy for some eight years now, and it continued to be true. He'd never been able to figure her out, even despite the close friendship they'd developed in the two years since she'd declared herself over him. Her mood was unpredictable, her level of flirtiness was unpredictable, she was unpredictable.

And more to the point, he wasn't sure if she really was angry this time, or simply messing with him again. He was on the verge of asking if things were okay when Sally, only briefly turning to face him, brightly added, "Ask her to Homecoming!"

Linus smiled to himself. She really is an enigma.

"Lucy, hon, can you please go put some fresh towels in the half-bath?"

"Sure, Mom," answered Lucy as she finished stirring the jug of iced tea. She headed to the laundry room, took two fluffy hot towels from the drier, and went into the powder room under the stairs.

She set up the towels and stepped back out just as the front doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" she announced.

"Hey, Charlie Brown! Sally. Mrs. and Mrs. Brown. Come on in."

The foursome entered the house with overlapping greetings. In a moment, Linus had appeared downstairs, and in another, each visitor had gravitated toward their respective comfort zones: Charles Brown Sr. to the dining room with Richard Van Pelt, Clara Brown to the kitchen with Julia, and the teens to the living room, where the boys began playing Mario Bros. and the girls made small talk in the corner.

"Oh, Matthew, what'd you do that for?!" Linus suddenly fumed. "I was supposed to get that box—"

"Aww, come on, don't be so greedy," returned the younger boy. "I need all the lives I can get."

"Well, when Patty gets here," Charlie said to Linus, "you'll have to contend with her, too, so don't complain yet."

"Hey, I think that's her now," noted Sally on hearing the doorbell ring.

"I'll go," said Lucy, standing and heading for the foyer.

"Hey, Pat—" She froze. It wasn't Patty at the door. It most certainly wasn't.

"Hi, Lucy," said Schroeder meekly.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, but before either of them could say more, Dana and William Schroeder had reached the front porch and greeted Lucy as well.

"Uh— hi," she stammered. "Mr. Schroeder, Mrs— Come in."

Lucy quickly turned back to face toward the foyer, touching a hand to her now sweaty forehead. She saw that Linus and Sally had appeared as well, with Charlie and Matty precariously following.

"Oh, good grief," she groaned quietly as the Schroeders found their way to the kitchen, their son trailing behind, lingering near Lucy.

"Lucy, can we—"

"No," she answered with a piercing look. "Just go and— go and say hello to the others."

Schroeder opened his mouth to reply, but Lucy's defensively crossed arms convinced him it wouldn't do any good for the moment, so he sighed and dejectedly followed his parents.

The moment he was out of sight, Lucy turned to her brother, eyes darting up and down menacingly. "You knew. You knew he was coming here, didn't you?"

Linus bit his lip in shame, and Sally did similarly, self-consciously hugging herself.

"God," scoffed Lucy, stomping toward the kitchen in a contained storm of furor. "I'll get you for this, you blockhead!" she threateningly hissed over her shoulder.

A/N: I was going to include what happens during dinner in this chapter, but it was getting too long, so I'll split it into two parts, and upload the second as soon as I finish it, most likely in a few days.

Also, I know it was kind of vague when Mrs. Van Pelt mentioned "Clara and Paul," but Paul is supposed to be Patricia's dad. I'll make it clearer in the next chapter.

Please review! :)