Here's the big lead up to the turning point of everything: the semi formals! The semi formals will take place in the next chapter, so keep checking back for updates! Please comment and try to guess what will happen next. Would also love to hear your opinions of Lucas's little friend group. I will try to answer some questions in the next chapter so you guys want to know anything, just comment it. Enjoy!

I look at Lucas expectantly, sipping my drink. He prods at his food, not really meeting my eye.

"My dad used to play basketball. He was good. He was a candidate for the National team. Until he hurt himself badly and they rejected him. When he recovered well enough to play, they said he was too old to join the National team. His career was over.
When he had me, he introduced basketball to me when I was three. He'd get me to bounce it a few times every day. By the time I was five years old, he'd had me doing drills every week. He wants me to join the national team in his place, I know it."

"And that's not what you want?" I ask.

"I love basketball, but I don't want to do it as a career." He fiddles with his fork for a while before speaking. "The tryouts for the new Junior National team is in two weeks." He finally looks up at me. "Jackie keeps telling me I have to tell him before
then. He'll never allow me to walk away if I'm enlisted." So that was what Jackie and him were talking about.

"I don't think I'm in any position to give you advice, but I think you should do what you want to do." I say slowly. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, I've always wanted to become a veterinarian. Did I ever tell you I birthed a horse?" I roll my eyes.

"Yes, at least three hundred times already. We know you birthed a horse, Ranger Rick, but you're really pushing it. I swear one day I'm going to pour a smoothie on your head." He finally laughs, at ease with the old nickname. He glances at his watch and
his face falls. "I've got to get back. Am I going to see you tomorrow?" I shake my head.

"Still not going. You and Jenkins have fun."

"See you Monday, then."

"You ever go to school dances?" I ask Shawn.

"Yep. About a dozen times with a dozen different girls." I was at the Matthews' with Shawn. After the mandatory screaming session with Missy and Riley, we barricaded ourselves in the room to talk.

"Any of them ever mattered to you?" I ask, tapping my pencil against my sketchbook, thinking of how to adjust the sketches I drew up over the last few days.

"Just one. Angela." I look up from my sketchbook to see a dreamy look take over Shawn's face. "She was the light of my life. I even kept a Valentine's date promise to her. I'd always ditch the other dates but I made it to that one. I mean," he laughs,
"I got handcuffed to the boathouse by some of my exes, but other than that it was amazing."

"What happened to her?" I ask, shading Jackie's hair to a jet black.

"Left. Didn't come back. Single ever since. We were supposed to be like Cory and Topanga, but I guess not everyone can have that." He stands up. "I got to go get ready. Sure you're not coming? You should live your life. Senior year of middle school is
the start of everything. Don't miss the last school dance of your middle school years." I toy around with the idea in my brain.

"Even if I wanted to go, I don't have a dress." I say finally. Shawn grins.

"Actually," he pulls a bold red dress out of his closet, "you do." It's strapless and the material of the dress is light and fluttery and gauzy, and the skirt of the dress reaches a few inches above my knees, ending with wisps of the skirt hanging down.
It's the exact dress I dreamed of wearing if I was going to a dance. I saw it in a shop window once and immediately sketched it into my sketchbook when I was home. It's even more beautiful in real life than behind a shop window. "I think this will
fit you."

"How did you know?" I ask, tearing my eyes away from the dress.

"Your sketchbook was open one day when you were here. I figured I'd take a peek." he smiles mischievously.

"What was the shop attendant's face when you asked for a dress?" He mimics a face of bewilderment and shock, and I laugh.

"Wouldn't want to waste the dress, now, would we?" I screw up my lip, debating. Evidently, he thought I was decided, because he said "See you later, Maya." and left. I stare at the dress hard. Then I stare at my sketchbook. The happy faces of my friends
stare up at me. You should live your life. The words echo in me. I stand up and snatch the dress off the rack. I am going to the semi-formal.