If your boyfriend remembers half of his answers on the 10th grade English final but nothing about the last dance you two went to, here's what you could consider:

Dump him. Or maybe not because you also remember half of your answers on a final, except it was Regents Global Studies. Ask someone who might remember what happened at a dance and use his/her experience because you need the details for your story (in my case it's quite pathetic)

So dearest Lily, thanks for helping me out. And I'm really sorry that I'm writing a MSR, which you don't always support well, just a bit. Not too much. I know that disappoints people but whatever they can't hurt me but you can.

Beyond Yesterday

"And then your brother's girlfriend screamed, and leaned so far back that she dragged your brother onto the floor!"

I stared at Estelle as she took a deep breath. She had been laughing so hard that there were tears in her eyes.

Today was the first day of April, also known as April Fool's Day. And it seemed like some underclassmen had dared to pull a prank on the seniors; a bench in the senior section of the cafeteria had collapsed and Bill was sitting on it, according to Estelle, who witnessed the event.

"Shut up," I hissed, shooting glares at people who turned to stare at us. "You're lucky that Mr. Cooney has realized that he is way too unpopular to handle today. And next time we might not have a substitute this good."

"Yeah, she's almost deaf," Estelle said, finally gained control over herself. "And she's not making us watching any dumb movie made for classroom use."

I nodded, flipping through my copy of A Tale of Two Cities. Charlie had told me that in Dickens' time, writers were paid according to the number of words their works contained, and now I was starting to believe it; why else would anyone torture himself and the future generations like this?

Estelle leaned back in her chair, stretching her long arms. "Spring dance next week," she said.

"I know; it's like the only thing other girls talk about these days. Are you going?"

She made a face, slamming her book shut. "Yeah, like anyone would ask me out. Nope, I'm not going. I'm just going to stay home and hang with my sister she's not going either. Did anyone ask you to go?"

"No. I suppose we're in the same boat."

"What about Mulder?"

Oh, that.

Sometimes I saw him leaning against wall, talking to some boys I assumed were his friends. He always noticed me, and would excuse himself from his friends and walk over to meet me, smiling shyly. Then he'd walk me to my locker and he would wait as I took off my jacket and sort out what I wanted to carry. Then he'd walk me to my homeroom.

But that was it.

"I don't think he wants to go to the dance," I said slowly. "I don't think he's that type of guy."

The bell rang and we got up, heading into the crowded hallway. I stopped by my locker and pulled out my lunch and dumped all my materials from my morning classes except my Biology and Geometry homework into my locker. Then I headed for the cafeteria, hoping to find Mulder there.

There he was, sitting at our table and watching people around him shouting and yelling at each other. I sat down opposite to him as usual, and he turned his attention from a group of girls to me.

"Spring dance next week," he said.

"I know," I replied. "It's about the only thing that every girl I know talk about this week. I guess it must be a pretty big deal."

"It is. Would you like to go with me?"

"What?" I asked, dumbfound. I must had mistaken something; he couldn't have just asked me to go to the spring dance with him.

"I asked if you'd like to go to the dance with me," he repeated, blushing slightly.

"This is not an April Fool's Day trick, is it?" I asked, wondering if this was just some kind of trick.

"No, but I guess I picked the wrong day to ask." He sighed. "Would you like to go with me, really? And I swear it's not a trick."

"Yes, I'd love to go," I replied and he grinned.

"Good." He said, getting to his feet and left, his face in a deep shade of crimson.

Good? That's all he's going to say? I shook my head, pulled out my sandwich and took a bite; it was tasteless and when I chewed, I felt like eating paper. I stuffed it back into the bag and threw it away.

It was really hard to determine if it was just a prank or if he was sincere, on this day when any promise could turn into some kind of joke.

***

That Saturday Mom took Melissa and I to shop for dresses for the dance. They seemed more enthusiastic about my date than I was. Melissa had been trying to find out, but I kept my mouth shut like a clam.

"Come on, it's not such a big deal!" She yelled as she tried on a dress. I wasn't exactly interested in what dress I'd be wearing, so I let Mom pick for me. She had chosen a thin pink dress that reached just an inch below my knees, which was just the right length for me. Melissa wanted to try something new and different--something above her knees, but I doubt if Mom would approve that in the end.

"It's not like you'd ever want to date this guy!" I yelled back. A few other customers in the store stared at me, and I shot glares at them; I was pretty good at this now, ever since I discovered that glares can literally kill. Charlie had joked that he had died at least a hundred times and always came back to get tortured again.

"So it's another freshman?" she said, stepping out of the changing room and admired herself in the mirror. "I thought you'd be dating that Mul--"

"Missy, this one is too short in my opinion," Mom walked over and stared at Melissa. "Honey, really. It's at least two inches above your knees, and it is inappropriate for girls your age."

"Mom!" Melissa groaned. "When I'm an old maid, it would look even more inappropriate on me."

"Missy, here's one of the same style but the length is just right," Mom said, handing Melissa a dress that she had been looking at with finality in her voice. "Why don't you try this one on? I'm sure it will look better."

Melissa grumbled a final protest and took the dress from Mom. Before stepping into the changing room, she turned and looked at me and muttered, "Mothers."

I burst out laughing and this time no one bothered to stare at me.

***

The dance was in the gym and it was crowded. Most of it was fast songs, and Mulder explained that to him "jumping around made more sense," so we found an empty table in the back after danced to few slow songs. During our time on the dance floor I had to admit that it was so much fun. I had leaned against him and rested my head on his shoulder, something I had never done before. Elena, who came with her boyfriend ever since seventh grade, Mark, had a surprised look on her face when she saw us. But she smiled happily before swaying away in another direction.

A few of Mulder's friends stopped by, but none of them decided to sat down with us, and I was actually glad of that. They just stopped by, some with dates but most of them were alone, and chatted for a minute or so.

"I see you have a good taste for ladies," a boy called Andrew half-joked. "When we heard that you're coming to the dance with a date, we thought that you had finally lost it and asked a cheerleader--hey don't look at me like that," he said, regarding to Mulder's nasty look, "Some of them only cared about a guy's face, not what people think of them or their personality at all. Anyway, I see that we're wrong and that's good."

With that, he hopped off toward the entrance.

I turned to face Mulder. "Nice friends you have," I commented.

"Yeah well. We're the outcast of society, so we stick together pretty tight."

"Hmm. Guess there is something good in every perspective of life."

He smiled, and reached a hand out to squeeze mine gently. "I really like you," he said, his eyes locking onto mine. I felt a shiver traveling up my arm, like that night when I first saw him in the crowd.

And I really like you too, I said silently. Somehow it never made it out of the back of my throat. It never escaped my lips.

He continued, his gaze now drifting off. "But I don't know about this"

And then I panicked. Oh God, I thought, he's going to say that he's a senior and I'm a freshman and maybe we're never meant to be. Maybe

"I mean, I'm a senior and it's only two more months until graduation." He said, his voice unsteady, which wasn't like him at all. "And I don't know if I'll stay around here."

"Oh I'm sure you can get into the State University with no problem," I said as assuring as I could be, "Bill is pretty confident that he can get in and your grades are so much better than his--so no worries!"

He smiled and squeezed my hand again. "You're right. Anyway, we still have two months."

"That's right," I said, returning his smile.

He looked up at the clock, and then said, "Let's go. I want to walk you home, but I don't want to get caught and beat up by your brother."

We stood up and pushed our way to the exit. Once outside, I breathed in the sweet spring night air, which was refreshing after being in the crowded gym. We walked in silence, holding our hands. Once we looked up at the night sky and saw the glimpse of a shooting star. Mulder smiled.

"I saw one on the night of Christmas Day," he said, slowing down a bit. "I haven't seen them for a while."

"I saw one that night too," I said. "Do you think they could possibly be the same one?"

"I stared at the night sky pretty long that night and it was the only one I saw, so it's possibly the same one," he chuckled, and asked me, "What wish did you make on that star?"

"Hey if I tell you, it wouldn't come true, right?"

We've reached my house, and he walked me to the porch. "I think my wish that night had already come true," he said softly, and leaned down for a light kiss.

I blushed; I could tell that he was blushing too, under the dim porch light. "Thanks for taking me to the dance," I managed to say.

He grinned. "I didn't take you to the dance; you walked to the school by yourself. But you were my date, so thanks for the dance."

"And thanks for walking me home."

He nodded and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Sweet dreams," he said, and then turned and walked out of our front yard.

I watched his back until he turned the corner and I could no longer see him. Once he turned his head, saw me watching, and waved. I waved back, smiling.

I went inside the house; I could hear the television crackling in the living room, and Mom and Dad's muffled conversation. I didn't want to tell anyone about my first date, so I headed straight to my room, changed into my nightgown and went to bed.

Half an hour later, when Melissa turned the doorknob, I caught myself smiling. I quickly turned to my side so that Melissa couldn't see my face, as I was not able to force the grin to go away.

This was a night that I surely would remember for a long time.