Thursday flies by without a hitch and without anything interesting happening. There was a quiz in math, and a boring rehearsal, but then Dutchy was busy afterward so I had to just go back to my room and sleep.

And now it's Friday. I am dreading today. I don't have rehearsal, but I do have to go break the heart of some poor girl who currently has images of a multi-million-dollar wedding and 2.5 kids and a white picket fence dancing in her head.

I don't really want to shoot her down. But I also really don't want to go.

I have no idea what I'm supposed to do when I get there.

Because she's a girl.

And girls are gross.

I trudge down her hallway at seven-fifty-eight, then stand outside Becky's door for a moment, trying to figure out a last-ditch excuse to run away and hide. Just as I'm gathering up the courage to turn and run, the door opens and Becky's face meets mine, bright and shiny and smiling.

"Daniel!" She chirps, throwing her arms around me. "I didn't think you'd make it!"

I shrug and nod, try to look anywhere but at her eyes. She pulls me into the room and I stand there awkwardly and twist my script in my hands. "So," I say, still fidgeting with the script and looking around the room. It's so... girlie.

"So," Becky repeats, giggling. She brushes her dark-blond hair out of her face and smiles at me, looking me up and down. "I like your shirt."

"Thanks." It's a plain white tee shirt. There's nothing special about it. "So, um, you wanna start?"

She grins. "Yeah."

And a five-foot, two-inch, dirty-blond tornado hits me with a force I didn't think physically possible, knocking me back onto one of the bunks. The wind is knocked out of me and I'm overtaken by shock so I don't know if I'm thinking clearly, but I'm pretty sure there's a girl on top of me and she is currently trying to perform a tonsillectomy on me with her tongue.

I'm pinned down and just kind of lay there, stunned, for a few moments. There's a brief flash of pain as she grins against me and that's when I turn my head to the side. "Um, Becky?"

She giggles and nuzzles into my neck. "Sorry... too much for you?"

I sigh. "Yeah. Way too much."

Becky laughs and shakes her head. "Well, gosh, what kind of a prude are you?" When I just cock an eyebrow, she looks at me and smiles. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I thought I was here to run lines."

Apparently, this is hilarious. She throws her head back and laughs. "You honestly thought that?" She shakes her head. "You're silly, Daniel."

Okay, I haven't had anyone call me silly since I was about four. This is ridiculous.

"But seriously, what's wrong?" She looks at me all innocently, smiling, like she wants to fix my problem.

"Um, I... well, see, Becky, I'm... um, I'm kind of seeing somebody."

Her face falls, that bright and shiny happiness being overcome by a really annoying pout. "What, like back home?"

"Um... sure."

Becky shrugs and leans down. "She doesn't have to know. It's not like we're going to get caught." And her mouth is on mine, working too hard yet again.

I pull away. "Becky, I'd rather... y'know, I'd rather not run the risk." Gently, I push her off of me and stand up. "Um... I'm just gonna go. I'll, uh... see you at the next rehearsal." I pick my script up off the floor and am out of there like a bat outta hell.

Dutchy opens the door when I knock, and he gives me a cocky grin. "So, how'd your date go? You get lucky?"

I shake my head and push past him, crawling into his bed.

He laughs. "What's wrong?" He lays down beside me, cupping my chin in his hand. "Rubber break or something?"

I roll my eyes and pull the covers over my head. "Girls have cooties."