By the time Trixie and Brian ventured out to dance, Mart and Di were back together. They had made up, or at least, called a truce. Trixie couldn't tell, for sure, by the expression on Diana's face. She looked happy enough, but a shadow crossed over every now and then that clued Trixie in. She was still discontent about something.

As long as they weren't actively fighting, Trixie figured tonight wasn't the time to deal with – well, whatever their issues were. In fact, Trixie wasn't sure she ever wanted to get into it. She was curious, of course. Both because it came naturally to her, and also since her friend's happiness was involved. Yet, the idea of asking a lot of questions regarding her almost-twins love life made her a bit squeamish. In any case, she was going to put a pin in it for now.

Charity was now dancing with Ben, and Dan was with Amy Morrisey, a classmate. Trixie cut in to claim Dan, leaving Brian and Amy partnered.

"You clean up nice, Trix," Dan commented offhandedly. Trixie just narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah," she brushed it aside, waving one hand dismissively. "How did you get the head cheerleader to be your date?" she said, as low as she could and still be heard over the music.

Dan shrugged. "This party's a big deal, Trix. Everyone wanted to come. Well, every female, anyway. Honey Wheeler, throwing a fancy shindig? I had some pretty choice options for my plus one," he revealed with a cocky grin.

Trixie stared at him, dumbfounded for a minute. "You let her use you, just to get into Honey's party?" she said, sounding slightly insulted.

His grin widened. "Use me? Have you seen her? She can use me for whatever she wants," he teased.

She pushed him away, feigning disgust.

"What, you want me to be lonely?" he pretended to pout.

Trixie just rolled her eyes. "No one wants you to be lonely. But we'd prefer you don't contract a venereal disease, either."

"Trixie!" Dan exclaimed, and for a minute, she delighted in his shock. It wasn't very often she got that reaction. But then she just shrugged. "Jane, then Charity? You're pushing your luck, Dan. You know they're both…well-kissed."

He let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. "I'm up to the challenge."

She pushed him again, laughing. "Go find her, then. You're disgusting."

"Disgustingly charming," he replied, though he steered her over toward Ben and Charity as she requested.

Facing them, Trixie rolled her eyes. "I didn't think this through," she admitted, realizing she was about to be stuck with Ben. Still, she obliged when Dan started dancing with Charity and Ben turned to her.

"How've you been, Trixie?" Ben questioned politely. "Capture any new kidnappers lately? Bust up a counterfeiting ring?" he teased.

"Not lately," she admitted coolly, a little annoyed by his tone.

He laughed, "I'm just kidding. I'm sorry," he admitted. "Truthfully, it wouldn't surprise me if you had. You must lead a fascinating life."

She laughed, somewhat mollified. "I don't know if it's fascinating. Baby-sitting, dusting, chores. I get to make beds at the inn this summer, is that fascinating enough?"

He grinned. "But I bet you have interesting stories." He paused, then continued, "Of course, maybe not as interesting as her. Now that girl would have stories. Mostly made up, probably, but entertaining nonetheless." Trixie followed his gaze to see Jane, in heavy make-up and big hair. She was spinning around languidly in the center of the room, not caring that she had no one there to dance with.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "You men are all the same," she complained, though she wasn't particularly concerned. "That's Jane Morgan, you want me to introduce you?"

He waggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion. "Do I?" he replied facetiously, straightening his tie. She snorted. "Careful with that. Jane will probably use it as a leash to lead you around the room."

He grinned back at her. "I don't think I'll mind," he admitted. She rolled her eyes again but pulled him over to meet Jane nonetheless.

Brian stood on the edge of the room, looking around. He and Amy had shared a dance before she moved on, and he was content to look from the sidelines for now. Instead, he took in the scene. The fancy room, the décor – almost certainly, if he hadn't had the random luck of having the Wheelers end up as his next-door neighbors, this was a setting he never would have been in. It was funny how, after years of hanging around Honey and Jim, it had almost dulled him to how crazy it really was – how out of his depth this world was.

He, maybe, had never really realized it properly. At least, until he went off to school. Brian would probably never forget the moment it really struck.

It was his first week or two at school. His roommate, a nice enough guy named Rick, had just noticed one of several pictures that Brian had placed on the shelf above his computer. "That's Madeline Wheeler," he pointed out, sounding a bit dumbfounded. "Why do you have a picture of you and Madeline Wheeler?" he questioned, a note of suspicion in his voice.

Brian just shrugged. "She's my next-door neighbor. My sister's best friend. We went to prom together – she goes to my high school." The picture was from before prom, Honey in a formal dress and Brian in his tux.

Rick just stared at it for a minute. "Wow, that's crazy. I mean, you could almost believe she was your girlfriend or something, the way she's holding your arm." He shook his head in disbelief. "That's nuts."

Brian's brow creased. The amount of shock in Rick's voice seemed a little excessive, and he didn't care for it. "Wait, why is it nuts?" he asked warily.

Rick shrugged. "I mean, you know. You're not secretly rich, I figure, living in the dorms. She's like a bajillionaire. She's obviously not actually going to go out with a guy like you."

That hit Brian like a slap, but he tried not to show it. "Right," he repeated slowly, trying to keep his voice expressionless. Still, Rick could tell, by his tone, that he had hit a nerve. Misinterpreting it, he amended his statement. "I mean, me too. Guys like us don't get girls like that, it's nothing personal," he offered, trying to fix the situation. When Brian didn't respond, he let out a short, mocking laugh. "Did you think she was your girlfriend?" he exclaimed in surprise.

"Of course not," Brian retorted, but it felt like a lie. Or did it? He knew she wasn't his girlfriend, of course. But she wasn't exactly…not his girlfriend, either. He had never really thought much about it, he realized. He had asked her to a few dances and dates. After they went out the first time, everyone seemed so happy with the match – or so he thought. It just seemed like an obvious pairing – she was the pretty neighbor girl, his sister's friend, wasn't it the quintessential small-town romance?

But she was also a millionaire's daughter, and obviously never going to settle for a small-town romance.

Why hadn't he seen that before?

Jim sidled up to Brian then, interrupting his thoughts. "It's not bad, huh?" Jim scanned the room, though Brian knew without asking that he was almost certainly looking for Trixie. Jim's shoulders slumped, almost imperceptibly, after a minute. Brian followed his gaze, to see her with Tad Webster and Diana. She was gesturing furiously with her hands, an animated smile. Di threw her head back, laughing. Tad smirked, but looked a bit too interested in her story, even for Brian's comfort. He had never entirely trusted Tad – he was just a little too macho and a little too sporty and a little too cool. It was obviously a façade, but Brian was never quite sure just what was behind it.

Jim just straightened up after a moment, offering no other expression. "I don't know as many of these underclassmen as I thought I would, though," he continued. "It's funny, isn't it, she's my sister but I almost forget she's got a whole other life at school. I guess she'd say the same about us," he concluded.

"I guess," Brian answered noncommittally.

Honey came up then, one arm on each of their shoulders. "Happy birthday, Honey," Brian greeted, though it was technically her birthday tomorrow.

She smiled warmly, a smile that had always been one of her best features. Brian was certain that whoever first dubbed her 'Honey' had done so after seeing that smile. "Thank you," she replied cordially.

"Would you like to dance?" he offered, bending his arm in an invitation. "I'd love to," she replied, taking the crook of his arm. He led her, a few steps out to the floor.

It was a slow song, and they swayed gently back and forth. The gentler volume of the music made it easy to talk, but Brian found that he wasn't quite sure what to say anymore. A wall had come up, somehow, between them. He imagined it had a lot to do with being self-conscious now, aware that rich girls didn't date poor country boys like him.

Still, he couldn't help but miss the days when she was easy to talk to. He wasn't sure if he had really loved her – had he known her well enough for that? But it was nice, having someone who listened. Mart and Trixie tended to just talk over him. Even when he got a word in, he often felt like he was heard, but not listened to. Honey had a knack for making people feel comfortable, as though he could speak his mind – she'd understand, even when no one else did.

But now it just felt empty and flat. Even as he held her in his arms, looking into her face, he was struck by how much he missed her. He resolved to fix it, somehow, to mend their friendship. He didn't want any more distance between them, and it wasn't her fault that she was rich or that he had dreamed too large.

"It's a nice party," he began. "Are you happy with it all? I know you've been working on it for a while."

"Thank you," Honey echoed again, always polite. "Overall, I suppose. Ms. Trask was darling about trying to keep Mother grounded. You know how she is. It's a bit grander, I think, than I pictured. Informality doesn't come naturally to Mother."

"Well, that's all right," Brian replied easily. "Why shouldn't it be nice? Your mother just wants to give you a beautiful party. You're 16, after all, and her only daughter. And if you ask me, she accomplished it well."

Honey sighed a little. "I know," she admitted. "It meant a lot to her. But do you think the other kids are having a good time? It isn't too stiff?" she fretted. "I wanted everyone to relax and have fun. They aren't going to school and talk about my boring, uptight palace party, are they?"

Brian put his hand firmly under her chin, making her look up at him. "Honey, look around. It's fine. It's not a funeral. Hear them laughing? Everyone's having a good time," he assured her. "Now listen carefully, because I'm only going to ask this once. Would it make you feel better if I made it like the school parties? I can do the chicken, you know."

She giggled. "No, it's okay," she replied. "I don't recall anyone ever doing the chicken at a school dance, anyway," she teased.

He laughed. "I guess everyone's missed out on my best moves, then. Their loss." He bent down to look her square in the eye, once more. "Are you sure you're okay, Honey?"

"Yeah," she replied, slowly dragging out the word. Thoughtfully, she continued, "I guess sometimes, things just don't turn out the way we expect."

"I guess they don't," he agreed. To a nearby onlooker, both of their wistful expressions would have been perfectly matched.

But it went unnoticed by the two of them, as they continued to dance.

Honey realized a short while later that Brian had a point, even accidentally. Maybe not the chicken dance, of course. That was absurd. But there were other, better dances that set the tone for the sort of party that she had wanted. She briefly consulted Di and Trixie. Di jumped on board instantly. Trixie hesitated for just a moment, but quickly agreed as well, if the other girls were willing.

While Honey pulled the DJ aside for a brief dialogue, Trixie did her own part by rallying their friends. Tad made a face but nodded his assent. Jane was eager, and Ben was willing to do anything that impressed Jane. She was in the middle of grabbing Charity and Dan, steering them back to the floor, when the familiar strains of the Cupid Shuffle began.

It worked just like Honey had hoped. The kids immediately perked up, recognizing the sound. Trixie, Di, and Honey started moving in the routine, formulaic dance that almost everyone under the age of 25 knew. Charity and Jane jumped in as well. Ben and Tad eyed each other warily for a moment, but when Ben slid in beside Jane, Tad made his own spot between Di and Honey. Dan, on the end, tried his best to copy Charity, though it was clear he only knew about half of the moves and was always a step behind everyone else.

In time, some of their classmates jumped in, joining the core group. Mart was surprisingly good at the routine, and not the least bit shy, which encouraged more to join. Di worked her way beside him with a pleased expression, and he beamed. Trixie crooked one finger to Jim, who emphatically shook his head and silently mouthed the word "no" back at her. She blew out an annoyed huff of air, then turned her attention to Tad.

Jim sighed and threw his hands up in the air, but ultimately, joined her reluctantly on the floor. He knew less than Dan, however. She was nearly on the floor soon after, alternating between demonstrating the steps, and laughing hysterically. Jim, not particularly concerned with her laughter, grinned and pulled her up to him. "Like this?" he teased, moving her about as though she were a puppet. "Like this?" He waved her arms wildly, holding her wrists.

Trixie, doubled over in laughter, could make no other sound, but finally gasped out loudly "No, you idiot!"

Honey looked around, pleased by what she had managed. To her shock, she realized that even Tom was dancing – next to Celia, but still. Regan hid somewhat, on the outskirts of the group, but he too was tapping his foot along. "Regan!" she gasped. "I didn't know you danced."

He shrugged, finally beginning to move along with the full motions of the dance. "When it's easy enough, I do. You think I don't get out much, do you?"

She laughed. "You live with us. I know you don't get out much," she retorted.

"Touche," he replied pleasantly. Honey looked up at that moment to see her mother, staring from the edge of the dance floor. As always, she was poised and regal – when was Mrs. Wheeler anything else? But her lips were in a tight line, and a delicate eyebrow arched in surprise.

Mrs. Wheeler moved wordlessly toward them. Honey felt a nervous flutter in her stomach begin, and she tripped a bit over her own two feet. Mrs. Wheeler stopped beside them, still staring, when she leaned closer. To Honey's unbelieving eye, she kicked one leg out, copying Regan's moves. "Like this?" she queried. She was graceful and precise, perhaps too well-trained for such a simple and silly dance.

But she was trying. Honey felt tears spring to her eyes. She wasn't even sure why – tears of relief, perhaps, or appreciation. In any case, she linked arms with her mother and began teaching her the moves, giggling even while she blinked away her watery eyes. She looked up, to again find someone watching. This time, it was Brian, who simply smiled knowingly and offered a thumbs up. She smiled back, realizing she was getting exactly the party she wanted after all.

Trixie was spent. She needed air, she needed quiet, she needed…well, anything except for what was in that room. She announced that she was going to get a drink, but when she walked toward the bar, she just kept walking. She found herself in a long hallway. Fancy decorative sconces and elaborate gilded molding covered the walls, and large mirrors were prominently displayed. She kept walking, trying to ignore her reflection and unfamiliar look. Eventually, she came to a set of glass doors. Peering through, she found they opened into what seemed to be a courtyard. She pushed open the doors, fleeing outside.

The night was warm, but the air had a refreshing, slight, breeze. She could feel her hair move, just a touch, for the first time in hours. She was suddenly filled with the inexplicable desire to pull every last pin from her hair, set it free from its trap, and shake like a dog. But she resisted the urge, knowing Di would kill her.

It occurred to her that she never checked to see if the doors locked. Was she stuck in this courtyard now? Truthfully, it didn't sound like the worst fate. Gee, sorry I missed half the party. I was stuck in all that peace and quiet.

Still, she tested the doors. Finding that they still opened, and she could return to the party anytime she wanted, she relaxed. She walked to a nearby bench, sitting down and closing her eyes. After several deep breaths, she heard the door open again behind her. She chose to keep her eyes shut. Maybe whoever it was would go away if she ignored them.

Instead, she could feel the intruder settle on the other end of the bench. Warily, she opened her eyes. "Oh! Jim!" she exclaimed in surprise, then laughed. He grinned at her. "Mind if I join you?"

She shook her head. "Oh, no, not at all," she replied honestly. "I just needed a break from everything in there. Some peace and quiet to myself. But having you here isn't really any different than being by myself," she admitted. "I mean, it's not like in there where I feel like I'm on display the whole time."

He stretched one arm across her shoulders. "I know what you mean. You make a pretty display, for what it's worth."

She blushed. "Thank you," she mumbled shyly, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Without thinking, one hand came up to her hair, plucking at a pin. Realizing what she was doing, she snapped her hand away, sitting on it. He gave her a curious look, and she explained, "I don't dare take these pins out. Di put them in, and she'd kill me if I undid it all."

"Do you want them out?"

"They're kind of uncomfortable," she admitted.

He turned, slowly, to face her fully. One hand came up, pulling out a pin. He dropped one, then another, into his empty hand. "Then I'll do it," he said quietly. "Di can kill me." He worked methodically, his fingers running through her hair until every last piece was free. Then, his eyes never leaving hers, he dropped the pins into his jacket pocket and fluffed her hair carefully.

She could feel her entire body tingling, concentrated strongest in the pit of her stomach. Trixie didn't know much about seduction, but this was, by far, the closest thing she had ever experienced. He was leaned over so close, brushing her hair with his long fingers in a way that left her mouth dry and her brain foggy.

But it was his next words that sealed the moment. "I like it better this way," he admitted in a low whisper.

Driven by a force she didn't understand, she felt herself leaning forward to claim his lips. It was almost as though it wasn't really her – as if she were outside of her body, simply observing. She was hesitant, at first, but he responded instantly, hungrily. He grabbed her waist with one hand, the other fisted in her hair. He pulled her tightly toward him. His kisses urged her to keep going, and suddenly, she felt herself slam back into awareness of her body. Now, she was very much there, flushed and overheated, and was that her, making that noise?

Jim pulled away abruptly, and everything was hazy for just a second as she tried to focus. "I'm sorry," they both said at the same time, and she laughed. He relaxed slightly, and she realized that, while he had stopped kissing her, one hand was stroking her knee.

She decided that she liked it. But, more confusingly, she wasn't sure that she wanted to like it. After all, he wasn't her boyfriend. Kissing him had been fun the first time, but it had also brought to life so many complicated feelings. She had thought a lot about kissing him again, about how good it had felt. And it turned out, it felt even better the next time.

But, did she want to know how it felt? With no guarantee that she'd ever get to do it again? What if he kissed her now, and another girl tomorrow? He had made it clear, abundantly, that she had no claim, no promise, no commitment. He wasn't hers, plain and simple.

On one hand, she wanted to let his hand stay there – or maybe even higher. If a few short minutes felt like this, she was dying to see what more there was. On the other hand, how much of herself was she willing to give to someone she couldn't keep? And on yet another hand, he was Jim – any other boy, she wouldn't have even considered, but she trusted Jim more than anyone. She'd rather explore this new facet of her, this brand-new intimacy, with him than with someone else, someone less comfortable and less familiar.

And, she thought ruefully, that just showed how confused she was. Bad at math as she was, even Trixie knew she had a problem when she counted on three hands. She stood up, tugging his hand. "Let's go back inside," she stated, knowing that this was a dilemma that wouldn't be solved tonight.

Dancing with Mart, Di tried hard to just live in the moment. It was so nice, here with him. She was having a lovely time, and Mart was perfect. The right amount of conversation, a sense of humor, a good dancer, handsome…wasn't he the perfect package?

But she couldn't help, sometimes, her mind wandering when she watched Honey dance with boy after boy. Especially when she graciously accepted a dance with Brian. Di couldn't stop the unbidden thoughts – how Brian was here tonight, dancing with Honey, with no intention of anything more. All these boys – was it simply different for them than it was for girls?

Di wasn't stupid, of course. She never thought that a little attention was the same as a serious commitment. But she also had never thought that, in a small town like Sleepyside, the girls were just a temporary diversion for boys who were waiting for their real lives to begin. Boys who wanted bigger and better things, who would go off to college and forget all about the girls they had once thought were so sweet. Maybe "sweet girls" only had any value when there was nothing else around.

Even Jim, who was basically the textbook example of an honorable man, had said as much. He liked Trixie, even enough to give her a bracelet with his name on it. That is, in a town where there were only a handful of girls to pick from. And yet, off at college and free, all he could say was that he wasn't ready to commit. He wasn't sure what he wanted when he realized just how much there was to want.

Maybe Honey, Trixie, and Di were all doomed – just characters in the stories that the boys told to their future wives someday. That's what the odds said, right? Di didn't know much – but she did know change. And she knew that she didn't seem to come out on the winning end where it was concerned.

Di tried hard to shake off these dark, gloomy thoughts, determined to enjoy her friend's party. But it was hard, looking at Mart's cheerful face, and having to wonder if it wasn't all for nothing. Was this – was she - just a phase? Was she too young to be this certain that, for her, Mart was the one? And if so, why did she want him to be so bad? Gertrude Atherton had said it – young love, the blaze that ends in babies or ashes.

But Di couldn't choke back the uncomfortable feeling that she would be getting ashes.

Authors Notes:

As always, I don't own these characters. Random House does, and I borrow them with love. I also, obviously, don't own the many things I reference here. For example, the Cupid Shuffle.

Please leave comments and let me know where I'm going a bit too far/not far enough, as it will influence what the characters continue to do. For example, I enjoy Dan as a bit of a cad, but if it's off-putting, I can tone him down. Know your audience and all that.