"He said that I was --" I frown, trying to remember it exactly. "Exactly as perfect as he thought I'd be. That means he thought about kissing me before," I tell Julie. She and Connie have agreed to help me get ready for my brunch with Averman. Now that we're definitely on, I feel a certain desire to want him to want me when he sees me, but I keep second-guessing myself -- realizing I needed help only after I've tried on the entire contents of my closet. Twice. If I hadn't called for backup, I wouldn't be ready until dinnertime. "Oh! That means he thought about kissing me, and it was good."

Connie smiles. "I remember the first time Guy kissed me. Butterflies like you wouldn't believe!"

"That's the best part, though," I tell her happily. The truth is, all I have to do is think about kissing Averman, and my stomach fills with butterflies. It's the sweetest rush, and it's made my face break out in a smile so often that my cheeks are starting to hurt. "I love that flippy feeling my stomach gets."

Julie, who is busy treating me like her My Size Barbie and is doing my makeup, nods. "That's how I felt when I used to kiss Adam." She pauses, thoughtful. "And Dean, too."

"Charlie never really did it for you, huh?" Connie teases.

Julie grins. "Well, I figured Maggie didn't want to hear about how her brother used to make me feel all tingly." Her face turns serious for a minute. "Um, Maggie," she says hesitantly, "I have something I should tell you, and I don't want you to get mad, because it's not really a big deal -- I mean, actually, it's not any sort of deal at all, but --"

I roll my eyes. If I don't interrupt Julie now, we could seriously be here all day, and I really just want to finish getting ready so I can see Averman again. "Julie. What?"

"I kissed Averman," she admits. My surprise must be evident on my face, because she quickly adds, "Forever ago, I swear! And it didn't mean anything, to either of us -- and Connie's kissed him before, too!"

My eyes dart back and forth between Connie and Julie, uncertain.

Connie rolls her eyes. "First of all, I kissed him one time during a game of Spin the Bottle when we were, like, thirteen," she clarifies. "And don't worry, Maggs, because Julie has kissed Fulton, Dwayne, Ken, and Luis, and none of them meant anything, either."

Julie nods emphatically. "It's like a pattern I had," she explains. "You know, break up with Adam, get drunk and make out with Luis. Break up with Dean, kiss Kenny. Break up with Charlie, make out with the Bash Brothers. Break up with Dean again --"

"I get it. You've kissed all the Ducks."

Connie snorts. "She hasn't kissed me."

"I'm from Maine, Cons; we're conservative," Julie teases. "You're not mad, are you?" she asks me.

I shake my head. "No, but I'm going to have fun messing with Averman when I see him." I stand up to change into the outfit Connie's picked out for me, a blush-colored skirt with tiny maroon polka dots, paired with a lacy white tank top underneath a short maroon racer-back tank top. "You're sure it didn't mean anything?" I pull my hair back into a bun and secure it with two ballpoint pens.

Julie raises her left hand, places her right one over her heart. "I swear it," she affirms.

"Then…all is forgiven," I say with a smile. I walk over to my open closet and study the contents, frowning. "Guys? Shoes?"

While they're arguing over which shoes I should wear, I dig through the clutter on the desk, trying to find my glasses. I'm giving my eyes a break today, since I forgot to take my contacts out when I got home -- again. I finally find them as Connie emerges from the closet, a pair of macramé wedges in hand.

"Ooh, I forgot how cute you look with glasses," she exclaims, handing me the shoes.

"Maybe just this pair," I say, because these really are cute frames -- small black rectangular Kenneth Coles that I secretly refer to as my Sexy Librarian Glasses.

I slide the shoes on and do a three-sixty. "What's the verdict?"

"You," Julie proclaims, giving me a hug, "are irresistible."

The three of us head downstairs and find Charlie in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and drinking milk straight out of the carton. Boys, I'm telling you, can be really gross.

"You guys ready to go play some hockey?" he asks, putting the milk away.

"I'll see you later," I tell the girls, trying to make my way to the back door without being noticed.

No such luck. "Maggie," Charlie says, "where are you going in a skirt?"

I freeze, my hand on the doorknob. So close. So, so close. "Um." I swallow. "Brunch?"

"Like, a date?"

I shrug. "Like…brunch."

"Look at me," he demands, and when I do, he continues. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that I saw you making out with Averman in his car last night?"

"Were you spying on me?"

"I looked out my window around one to make sure you didn't miss curfew, and it didn't look like you were trying to hide. So, what, are you guys dating now?"

My brother is the last person in the entire world that I want to have this conversation with right now. "I -- you -- I'm going to be late," I stammer as I open the door. I practically sprint to my car and drive as fast as I legally can over to Stillwater, where Averman and I have agreed to meet at Lily's Grill & Malt Shop. Fulton introduced me to the place, and now I'm addicted to Lily's patty melts and smoothies.

Averman looks so good sitting there in the booth, so happy and gorgeous and mine, and I can feel a smile stretch my lips as I sit down across from him. "Hey," I greet him.

"Hey, you," he replies. "Check out the specs! You look like a sexy schoolteacher." He grins widely at me.

"Librarian," I correct him, mentally thanking Connie and Julie for their aid this morning.

"Sure," Les replies with a half-shrug. "Sexy librarian. Oh, hey, check this out." He pulls his phone from his pocket, punches a few buttons, and holds it out for me to see. On the screen is a text message from Charlie that reads, "b nice to my sister or ill sic the bash brothers on you."

I sigh loudly, exasperated, and shake my head. "You are so lucky," I tell him, "that you're an only child."

Another half-shrug as he puts the phone away. "He cares about you; it's nice. Besides, Fulton wouldn't beat me up unless you told him to." A slightly worried look crosses his face as he adds, "So, uh, if we ever break up -- don't tell him to." He reaches out and laces his fingers through mine, then leans across the table to give me a quick kiss.

Inside, I am singing. He said "if we ever break up," which means he doesn't think that's likely to happen in the foreseeable future, which means he really, really does like me. I think. I make a mental note to pull Julie Gaffney, Expert on All Things Boys, aside later today to make sure I'm correct in my overanalysis.

"You ready to order?" our server asks, startling us both and making us jump apart. We each lean back on our respective sides of the booth, hands still clasped, while I order a four-berry smoothie for myself. Averman orders himself a cup of coffee, and we agree to split a large order of Lily's gourmet fries.

"You have to promise you won't let me eat all the fries," I warn him as our food arrives.

Les eyes the heaping plate in front of us. "Is that seriously something I need to worry about?" he asks dubiously. "I don't even think Goldberg could eat an order of these by himself."

"Les," I say, patiently. "You've seen me eat. And these fries," I add, reaching for one and dipping it in a ramekin of ketchup, "are my weakness." I'm not kidding. Crispy golden-brown French fries, topped with cheddar, bacon, and ranch, are my favorite thing on the menu at Lily's, and I have been known to eat an entire order of gourmet fries by myself.

We share the fries evenly and polish off our beverages. I open my purse and start to pull out my wallet, when Averman stops me.

"I got it," he says. He slaps a ten down on top of the check.

I shrug. Fine by me, if he wants to pay, except he's only left enough to cover the food, and if there is one thing that my mother has instilled in her children, it's the importance of tipping your server. I pull a five out of my wallet and place it next to his money. "I'll cover the tip, then," I say.

He grins. "Next time, you treat me," he teases, "and I'll pick up the tip, deal?"

"Deal."

He picks up the check and the ten dollar bill, leaving the tip on the table. Together, hand in hand, we walk to the register at the front to pay. Out in the parking lot, I lean back against my car, pulling Les to me and wrapping my arms around his waist. He leans down and kisses me, one hand making its way to the back of my neck, and I can feel the butterflies again, warm and fluttery and low in my stomach.

"We should get going," he says as he pulls away. His hand moves down from my neck to rest on my shoulder. "I told Charlie I'd be at the park by one-thirty, and I still have to stop back by my house because I forgot my skates."

"I'll meet you there," I tell him, reluctant to let go of his waist.

Averman, noticing this, leans into me, bracing himself against the car, his elbows on either side of my head. "I'd rather keep doing this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

"Is this as good as it was with Julie?" I'm careful to keep my tone light, so he knows I'm only teasing. The last thing I want right now is to piss off my new boyfriend.

"Better," he answers. Smiling. "Better than any of them."

Wait a minute. Better than who? Who else has he been kissing? I struggle to keep my voice the same, light and airy. "Any of the other Ducks?"

"Maggie," he says. "Baby. I've kissed other girls. Not recently, and definitely not in the last twenty-four hours, but I have. I'm not going to apologize for it, because we weren't together at the time, and they all happened way before I ever knew how you felt about me. Or how I felt about you."

I can feel my lower lip jutting out slightly in a pout, and it takes a great deal of effort to make my face appear unconcerned. "But it wasn't as good with them as it is with me, right?" I ask. I'm starting to feel a little insecure. No wonder Averman's such an amazing kisser. He's had practice. Kissing me, with virtually no experience to speak of, has to pale in comparison.

He brushes his lips against mine. "They weren't you," he says simply, and those three words are all it takes to cause the butterflies in my stomach to come rushing, fluttering back. He untangles himself from me and kisses me one more time. "I'll meet you at the park, okay?" he asks, heading towards his car.

"See you there." I climb in the car and pull out of the lot, waving at Averman as I pass him at his car. Pulling out on the street, I flip open my phone and hit number 3 on my speed dial, calling Fulton.

"Fulton," I say when he answers, in lieu of hello. "Oh, my God. I am having the best day ever."

"I figured, when Portman told me Averman took you home last night. So you finally manned up and made a move, huh?"

"Oh, Fulton, dude. You should have seen me. I just went over there, told him that I wanted to be with him, and it worked! God, I was so freaked out over nothing."

"You know what that means, right? You have to say it."

Oh, man. "Nope. Not gonna."

"Maggs, you've got to."

"No fucking way."

"You have to, dude. I'd do it if it were the other way around."

"Fulton. When has it ever been the other way around?"

"Right, but my point is, I would do it, if I had to."

I sigh and mumble into the mouthpiece of my phone.

Fulton sighs, and I can picture him on the other end, eyes rolling heavenward. "I can't hear you, Spazway," he says.

"You told me so," I repeat, more clearly this time.

"I did, didn't I?" Damn, but he sounds smug. "Are you hanging out today?"

"Yeah," I say, as I pull into the park. I can see him standing off to the side, his back to me. "And I'm totally about to run you over."

He turns around and flips me off as I park next to him, but as soon as I'm out of the car, his arms are embracing me in a sweaty bear hug. "Dude, Maggie, I'm proud of you."

"Dude, Fulton, thanks," I tease, mimicking his tone. "Does everybody else know?" I wonder aloud.

"I haven't said anything to anybody but Portman," Fulton replies, throwing his hands up in the air in a gesture of mock-surrender.

As we walk across the lot, I hear a low wolf whistle. "Looking good, mamacita," Luis calls. "Like, a naughty teacher, right?"

I grin, shake my head, strike a pose. "Mr. Mendoza," I call back, "please see me after class!"

"Luis," I hear Averman yell out, "quit hitting on my girl, okay?" I turn around to see him getting out of his car, rollerblades in one hand, an equipment bag in the other.

"I guess," Fulton nudges me with his elbow, "they know now."

I roll my eyes and pause mid-step, allowing Averman to catch up with us. "Hey, you," I say.

He kisses me, and I think he must have forgotten we're in the middle of a public park in full view of an audience, because there is nothing chaste about this kiss. It's long, slow and steamy, and there is most definitely tongue involved. Not, of course, that I'm complaining. He doesn't pull away until Luis whistles again. Guy and Adam are applauding. Charlie, I note, is standing there, arms crossed, looking very Concerned Big Brother. "Hey," he says, and it looks like he's trying to catch his breath.

Jeez-oh-man. A girl could definitely get used to this. I mean, I get that he's being all macho and territorial and everything, and it's obviously getting to Charlie, which means I'm going to hear all about it later, but I love the, uh, physical attention I'm receiving.

Fulton clears his throat. "Dude," he says, lightly shoving Averman, "get a fucking room."

Portman skates up, circles us a few times. "Dudes, come on. Let's play some hockey." Lingering behind as the others take off, he looks at me. "It's weird, you know? 'Cause sometimes I still think of you as this bratty little kid tagging along, like, everybody's kid sister. And then I see you now, looking all hot and kissing boys, and I realize you're not a kid anymore. But you're still like my kid sister. Like, I should protect you? So, just, if you ever need help or anything, let me know. Me and Fulton, we got you."

I smile, wide and bright, touched. That is, I think, about the nicest thing I've ever heard. And from a Bash Brother, no less. "Aw, Dean, thank you." I glance at Averman, tugging on his rollerblades and taking a swig of Gatorade. His eyes meet mine. He smiles at me, and for the billionth time, I could just die. The butterflies in my stomach, my new best friends, start fluttering again. I place my hand over my abdomen and turn back to Dean, grinning.

"Welcome." He looks slightly uncomfortable, out of his element, and quickly shrugs it off. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna go play." He skates off, over to Fulton and Charlie, who call the others together in a huddle.

I settle myself on a swing to enjoy watching my boyfriend -- my boyfriend! -- play hockey, and think that nothing in the world could be better than my life, right now.