Seven hours. That is the amount of time that most kids spend in school every day. It sounds like a long time, but somehow the time manages to pass extremely quickly. Maybe it's the ever-growing anxiety that's resting in the pit of my stomach that makes me dread the end of the day. I don't particularly enjoy conflict. The Brain and I have always gotten along, until now.

Or maybe my anxiety stems from my crush on Francine. The more I talk to her, the more I hope that things could work out between us. One of these days, I'm going to tell her how I feel. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. I can't hold it in much longer.

At lunch, Fern is late and I can barely give her a foot of space to sit down. She is seemingly cheerful today, smiling and giggling as she joins our conversation.

"Hey, you guys! Sorry I'm late, I was at a doctor's appointment."

Buster dips a French fry in chocolate syrup, making Sue Ellen gag. "No problem."

Fern's smile fits her face in an odd way, almost as if it's not used to being there. Her eyes seem glazed over, something that I noticed but never brought up. She shivers and shakes, even though she's wearing a thick wool sweater. She reminds me of a porcelain doll with chips and cracks.

I train my gaze at the table, not wanting to appear rude for staring. Turning my attention away from Fern and everyone else at the table, the rest of the cafeteria once again becomes white noise for my thoughts. It seems like I've been doing quite a lot of thinking, lately. I recall a scene from my English class this morning.

Francine wasn't usually so quiet in class. In fact, there was hardly a moment where she wasn't talking. Today, however, she seemed calm. Complacent, even. She sat up straight in her chair, eyes trained at the board, only looking away to take notes.

At least, I thought she was taking notes. As I began to zone out and daydream about the girl next to me, I caught a bit of movement in my peripheral vision. I glanced sideways without moving. Francine slid a piece of paper across the floor with her foot, still looking ahead at our teacher, Mr. Sheffield.

I wondered how I could pick up the note without looking conspicuous. I thought about it for a few seconds before pretending to drop my pencil. As I picked it up off the floor, I took the piece of paper with it. Hiding my hands behind the edge of my binder, I unfolded the note and smoothed out the folds with my hands. Francine's handwriting was rushed and erratic, making it hard to read.

"I'm totally going with you if you decide to talk to Brain. He's been acting like a dick."

I smirked, putting the note in my pocket. I looked back towards Francine, and our eyes met. She gave me a slight nod, almost as if to say, "I'm doing this. No question about it." I nodded in return, grateful for her offer and knowing there was no convincing her otherwise, even if I had been against it. Class continued after that, with no other out-of-the-ordinary events.

I put my hand in my pocket, feeling the slip of paper in my fingers. Maybe I'll tell her this afternoon, after we talk to Brain. Just let it slip. "Hey, I like you a lot, and I was wondering if you'd like to-"

My thoughts are interrupted when Fern taps me on the shoulder. "Arthur, I think your, uh, friends want you." Following her line of sight, I notice Binky standing in the corner of the lunchroom, with the rest of the Tough Customers standing on either side of him. It's odd; they all stand a foot above everyone else, like the mafia is taking a lunch break with a bunch of Cub Scouts. Binky begins to walk towards our table, and his posse trails him, scowling at any onlookers and telling them to piss off.

Sue Ellen's brow furrows and she scoffs. "Look who's here. Can you tell him to go away? Cigarette fumes and Old Spice might clash with my falafel."

Buster finishes off his turkey sandwich with strawberry jelly and licks his fingers. "Doesn't bother me."

Binky crosses his arms and stands at the foot of our lunch table. He makes an attempt to smile, but it comes off as uncomfortable rather than friendly. His smile disappears as quickly as it appears. He clears his throat.

"I wanted to invite you guys to a party this Friday."

We all stare in silence at him. Sue Ellen raises her eyebrows, and I see Fern's jaw drop. I scratch the back of my head, shrugging. "What kind of party?"

"What do you mean what kind of party? A party. At Bryce Lamb's house."

Bryce was a senior, a football player, and a total Vicodin junkie. I don't think he's exactly the type to invite freshmen to his house party, but with connections like Molly, Rattles, and Slink, I'm sure Binky can get in no problem.

"Are you sure Bryce is okay with that?"

Binky rolls his eyes. "There's going to be a lot of people there. I doubt he'll even notice you walking in the door."

I weigh out the options in my head. On one hand, my parents would kill me if they found at I'd been at a party, especially one that was being held at Bryce Lamb's house. Also, this party was sure to go late, and I'd have no way of leaving or returning to my house unless I snuck out, which was another thing I would get in trouble for if my parents found out. I shake my head.

"I don't know…"

Sue Ellen lifts herself up by the palms, looking at Binky, then me, and then back to Binky. "C'mon, Arthur, you know this isn't a good idea."

Binky stares at her for a second before sighing and turning towards me. "I thought you would be like this." He turns toward his gang, pushing through them towards the cafeteria exit. Before he leaves, he turns back towards us.

"Let me know if you change your mind!"

As the Tough Customers leave, Fern whispers, "Are you planning on going, Arthur?"

I trace my fork around the indents in my tray. "I'm not sure."

Fern places her hands in her lap and looks down towards the table. "I'll go if you go."

I don't know what to say, so I just nod and spend the rest of the lunch hour in silence.

Francine meets up with me at my locker after school again, not wanting to waste any time in finding Brain and getting her word in.

"I've been thinking about what I want to say to him. Just letting you know, some choice words may be uttered."

I laugh and shake my head slightly. "I haven't thought about this too much. I'm just going to wing it, you know?" I am in fact, only half lying. Truth is, I've been thinking a lot about this afternoon, but more about how I can possibly let Francine know I have strong feelings for her without coming off as too overbearing. Francine runs from overbearing. She doesn't like being smothered. This was a lesson that Arthur learned in elementary school.

Francine smacks my arm gently, walking at a quicker pace. It's not difficult to keep up with her, though. Ever since I had a growth spurt over the summer, my strides have been twice as long. We walk down the freshmen hallway, looking for Brain. His locker shouldn't be too far from mine, logically, as the lockers are sorted alphabetically and his last name is "Powers", but because of his AP schedule, I haven't seen him all year. He doesn't even have the same lunch as I do.

Looking down the halls one last time, I sigh and look back at Francine. "I don't see him anywhere."

Francine huffs, somewhat defeated. "He's probably in the library, getting all hot and bothered over Voltaire or something." She crosses her arms, pouting. It's almost cute, if you forget that she could probably punch your lights out in two seconds flat. There she was, a white hot flame of anger. People normally shy away from hot-heads like Francine, but I can't help but want to get closer, because once Francine does like you, she's one of the most loyal, funny, and intelligent people you'll ever meet. I like that she doesn't smile at everyone, because then when she smiles at you, you know her true feelings for you.

"So…" I falter, thinking of something to ease the silence, "did you hear that Bryce Lamb's having a party this weekend?"

Francine's expression softens, and she gazes at me with interest. "Yeah, I did. Are you going?"

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. "I don't know. I was invited, but I'm still thinking about it."

Francine shrugs her shoulders, looking around the now-empty hallway. "You should. I'm going."

My eyebrows shoot up, and I stand up straight, surprised that Francine has been invited as well (and that she actually wants to go.) "You are?"

She nods, looking at her nails. "It sounded fun. Some varsity soccer kids are going to be there, so I figured I'd hang with them. But hey, if you end up coming, I'll actually have someone my age to hang out with."

I have to admit, it's a tantalizing offer.

Francine suddenly shakes her head. "C'mon, Brain's got to be around here somewhere. Let's look outside." She turns on her heels and walks briskly out of the building.

I stand there, dumbfounded. My weekend plans have suddenly become much more interesting.

It seems as if I make up my mind a lot quicker when Francine enters the picture.

A/N: Wow guys, sorry for the long wait! I've been busy with other stories, but I hopefully will be updating this one a lot more frequently.

Also, there's a line in this chapter that's somewhat inspired by one of my favorite quotes from Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. Ten points if you noticed it! :)