8:15

TV had gotten lame. There were absolutely no shows that could hold my attention for a span of longer than three seconds. Three seconds was exactly how long I stared at each channel before pushing the little rubber button firmly down on the remote. I know, I counted.

I had answered the phone, voice shaking and short of breath, only to stop breathing completely halfway through my greeting. Not because of the confused, lost and stoned Danny who murmured something about pelicans; but because of the quiet, affectionate sigh that came from Dougieas he uttered her name.

I had completely forgotten about her.

I talked to Danny for about ten minutes. More like, he babbled on and on about the many different foods he was thinking about at that moment, and I tried desperately not to listen to Dougie's hushed terms of endearment.

Finally I managed to convince Danny to go with a cheeseburger instead of Chinese on the grounds that a cheeseburger was less likely to upset his stomach and ruin his high. Then I threw myself off of my bed and nearly tripped as I ran out the door and down the stairs. I don't know if Dougie noticed my rabid fleeing, but I don't care either. I flopped down on the couch, covering my face with my hands and taking deep breaths.

"This is okay, Char, it's fine. Everything is just fine." I whispered out loud. I'm a terrible liar, and I was having a very hard time convincing myself of anything.

The TV was making beautiful background noise when Dougie came trotting down the stairs. He leapt over the back of the couch and landed half in my lap. I groaned and shoved him a little, not enough to move him completely off of me, but enough to give the customary annoyed impression Dougie smiled and adjusted so he was beside me instead, then he cleared his throat and gestured to the TV.

"Since when do you watch Antiques Roadhouse?"

"Since I developed a crush on middle-aged delusions." I sighed, "Who was on the phone?" I asked casually, pretending I didn't already know the answer.

Dougie hesitated before answering, maybe because he realized that something here was different, "It was Rosalie." He said hurriedly.

"Oh."

Neither of us would look at each other.

"She says I've been distant."

"Really?"

"She thinks we need to spend some quality time together."

"Sounds fun."

"I'm actually thinking about heading over there now..."

"Oh."

There was an extended silence. It filled the room and muffled the sound of the television. I felt Dougie's body move as he breathed and it made me feel sick inside. Then a flutter shot through my stomach as I felt his fingers tangle themselves shyly with mine. I glanced down at our joined hands on the couch cushions between us, and a bashful smile touched my face.

"I don't know what we're doing here." Dougie said quietly, as if he thought the words wouldn't make any sense if spoken too loudly, "But whatever it is, I still need to talk to Rosalie Because right now, even though I'd give anything in the world at this very second not to give a flying fuck, she's my girlfriend, and I have an obligation to care."

I nodded slowly, the smile fading quickly from my face. I squeezed his hand tightly and then pulled mine free, "I understand."

Dougie smiled and leaned toward me to press a, still timid, but meaningful kiss to my cheek, but I turned my head slightly and he caught the corner of my mouth. Then he got up and walked toward the door, shooting me a smile as he left.

The minute he shut the door behind him I slumped down in the couch and sighed. I shook my head, "'I have an obligation to care.'" I mocked him, "Obligation my ass. His only obligation is to suck and he's doing a tremendous job of it." I glanced around the room and groaned, "I'm fucking talking to myself."

I let myself sit and wallow for about ten minutes before wandering toward the phone and dialing Leah's number with a sigh. She picked up after two and a half rings. Two and a half. I counted.

"Hello?"

"Sup Pimpette?"

"Not much, loser." Leah laughed, "What're you up to?" I leaned against the wall across from the front door and stared at it, mentally willing Dougie to come back, bursting through and taking me into his arms like in those heart wrenching Hollywood teen flicks.

"Pondering the meaning of life, arguing the ethics of gravity, considering the benefits of Buddhism, debating whether or not asparagus should be considered edible, you know the usual." I said nonchalantly and began picking at the chipped green nail polish on my pinky finger.

"Sounds stimulating."

"Yea." Then, without thinking, I blurted, "Dougie kissed me."

There was a second of silence on the line during which I was given a chance to realize exactly what I had said. I felt like an idiot.

"What?" Leah finally said.

"Dougie...well, he almost...kissed me." I slid down the wall and hit the floor with a thump.

"What do you mean almost?"

"I mean, like, we almost kissed and then...the phone rang."

"Was it important?"

"I've only been fantasizing about it since the first grade."

"No, I mean the phone call."

"Oh." I rolled my eyes at myself and gave myself a mental thwack on the head, "It was his girlfriend."

"Ouch, I bet that put a damper on the mood, eh?"

"To say the least."

"What did you do?"

"Well I just sort of closed my eyes and held my breath-"

"No, God, about Rosalie being on the phone."

"Oh." I sighed loudly, "Fortunately Danny called at the same time. Then I ran out of the room."

"So you paTomed?"

"Naturally."

"Naturally." There was a pause, then Leah sniffed loudly and spoke, "So then what happened, is he still there?"

"No he went to her house."

"Damn, that's lame. I'm sorry Char."

"I don't know how sorry you should be. Before he left he held my hand and said that he wished he could just ignore her. But he's got an obligation to care."

"Really?" This intrigued her immensely. "What do you suppose he meant?"

"I don't know, Lee, but I'm hoping it's good."

"I'm sure it is. It sounds so anyway. He sure enjoyed that kiss you two shared at the diner last week."

I blushed just remembering it, "He wasn't the only one."

"Ooo my little Charlotte finally openly admits that she has hormones."

"I so do not have hormones. Only animals and boys have hormones."

"Grrr. You should totally ask Dougie to Homecoming."

I frowned, "Homecoming?"

"Yea that thing where you get all dressed up and dance and everyone's hormones they don't have get wired."

"Ugh, sounds barbaric."

"Sometimes I seriously think our only option is piracy."

"Sometimes I seriously doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion."

"Shut up, I'm a lifer. That's why I'm peer pressuring you into taking a leap and asking Dougie to Homecoming before Rosalie the Ass-whore does."

"Ass-whore?"

"Yea apparently she takes it in th-"

"So this Homecoming thing sounds great I'll mull it over, bye!" I hung up immediately and tossed the phone across the floor. The last thing I ever wanted to know was the places that Rosalie Forese would "take it". And the whole asking Dougie to Homecoming idea was, although incredibly appealing, not going to happen. Not only was some stupid high school dance probably the furthest thing from his mind at the time, he would never go with me. Like he said, he had obligations right now to his girlfriend. I couldn't expect him to just ditch her when he didn't know what the hell was going on here, could I? But unless he got rid of his obligation to her he could never just find out what was going on here. Suddenly, realistic logic started to pass through my head and the idea of taking Dougie to Homecoming started to seem more and more possible.

Now I just needed to grow some balls.

That Night, 11:30

I couldn't sleep. Knowing Dougie was out with Rosalie, and knowing that I may just be losing my window of opportunity, was making me paranoid and nauseous. Not to mention crabby.

I was laying on my back staring at the ceiling and trying desperately not to think about what had almost happened last time I was in my bed. I started counting spots on my ceiling; the little plaster balls leered down at me and taunted me. They pressured me to jump out my window with the terrifying voices of singing children.

Come to think of it, I might have been losing my mind.

I had managed to count one hundred and thirty four spots when my phone rang loudly beside me. I rolled over and reached for the receiver.

"Please be Doug, please be Doug, please be Doug." I held my breath for thirty seconds before answering, "Hello?"

"Hey, Lilly? It's Drake."

I frowned, "Who?"

"Drake Morrow, ya know, from the party?"

I probed my mind for any tiny recollection of someone named "Drake" from a party. I discovered a very foggy image of a boy in a letterman's jacket with a tongue stud.

"Do you play football, Drake?" I asked slowly.

"Yea, starting quarter back. You don't remember. Well, fuck me, this is kinda embarrassing."

"No, no, I remember. The party. We met...on the couch." I slapped myself on the forehead.

"Yea." He laughed, "So I hope it's not too late for me to call you."

I sighed again and rolled onto my back, obviously it wasn't Dougie, but I figured the guy managed to find my number I had given him and remember me enough to have the decency to call. So I'd give him a conversation.

"No. I'm used to late night phone calls. Perverts only call at night, they feel less dirty."

"Perverts?"

"Yea my number is in the book under 'Ultimate Phone Whore'."

"You don't say."

"Well...no." There was a slight pause, "Why did you call me?" Then I rolled my eyes at myself for being so fucking dumb. But Drake laughed on the other side.

"Sorry, I got distracted by your rambling. It's cute."

Cute?!

"But I called to ask you if you wanna go to the Homecoming dance with me."

My jaw hit the floor. Mr. All-Star Football player wanted to gob to the Homecoming dance with me? How cliche.

"And don't go thinking it's just because I like you or something. It's mostly just because I got nominated and I think you'd look hot on my arm when I win." He chuckled.

Another jaw drop. And he thinks he's clever too.

"Charlotte?"

"Uhhh...I don't know...I was going to go with someone else."

"So tell them you changed your mind."

"Aren't we the cocky one." I smiled. He was persistent.

"Come on, it'll be fun, I promise."

"I don't know."

"Okay, well just think it over and let me know at school on Monday."

"I can do that."

"Great. I'll see you Monday, Charlotte."

"Yes Monday, Drake."

I hung up the phone and stared back up at my ceiling. For crying out fucking loud.

Monday

I didn't see or hear from Dougie for the rest of the weekend.

I think it goes without saying that I may have surpassed what qualifies as "freaking out".

I wasn't sure why Dougie never touched base with me, at least I pretended to be unsure. The truth was obvious...but sometimes living in denial is necessary to stabilize one's sanity. But it still wasn't like Dougie to just fall off the face of the earth like that. I tried to convince myself he was behaving strangely entirely on account of his feelings for me, that his prolonged absence was all because he was sitting alone trying to come up with the most poetic way to profess his love to me. Dougie always had a way with words.

I knew I was being exceptionally delusional. I mean, I've had my fair share of delusional moments. Okay my fair share and then some. But this was going far, far, far and beyond my usual capacity.

I called him numerous times, always met with the same silly voicemail message Dougie had put on his phone the day he got it and never changed. I heard it so many times over those two days that I had it not only memorized but stuck in my head, repeating, like a bad song on the radio, all morning on Monday.

I got to school five minutes before the bell was supposed to ring, and only made it to my locker with thirty seconds to spare. I had barely gotten it open when some unbelievably uncoordinated walking fish-stick of a freshman came hurtling down the hallway, tripped over her own fucking feet, and collided with my locker door. It slammed shut, narrowly missing my fingertips.

I stared after the girl in complete shock. She hadn't even paused to apologize. She just continued flying along, totally oblivious to the fact that she nearly amputated my phalanges.

"What a fucking cretin." I mumbled in awe as I watched her thunder her way toward her class.

"You've been reading the Thesaurus for fun again, haven't you?"

I turned around slowly to face Dougie. My initial reaction was to pummel him and berate him for not calling me back. For just disappearing. For lying when he said he didn't want to go see Rosalie. For saying he was going to kiss me, and then not following through. For being as cowardly as I was.

Instead, I blinked quickly and gestured to the Furiously Fleeting Freshman.

"Did you see that mental defective? She almost fucking disabled me."

Dougie leaned sideways against the locker beside mine, "Charbear, what did your mom tell you about being mean to the defectives?"

"I'm not mean to their faces." I turned back to my locker and reopened it, "I mean, I'm standing here with you, right? In plain view of the public eye."

"God, Char, your sense of humanity is awe-inspiring." Dougie joked as my locker popped open. He stepped around me to avoid being hit in the face and leaned on the other side.

"So you came over here to praise the softness of my heart and make my ego nearly as inflated as yours without saying hello first?" I smiled sarcastically and tossed a notebook into the chasm that is my locker.

A cheeky smile spread itself across Dougie's face as he reached onto the shelf in my locker to grab a yellow hacky-sack Danny had left there.

"Hi, Charlotte." His tone was rank with the mocking sweetness of a child.

"Hi, Dougie." I imitated his tone almost flawlessly.

"What no hug?" He laughed. I paused in my rummaging through my locker and peered at him out of the corner of my eye. The smile on his face faltered briefly as I turned toward him, tossing my bangs out my vision, and set my bag on the ground.

I opened my arms and stepped up to him. Our hug was short, but tight. My arms looped diagonally across his chest; one over the shoulder, one under the other. And instinctively I shut my eyes and breathed him in. I think I felt his chest expand as he did the same.

When we separated we shared an uncomfortable look of "not knowing what to do next".

"Sorry, I thought we were past awkward hellos." I mumbled quietly, breaking the discomfited silence with something even more discomfiting.

Thankfully, Dougie laughed, "Ha, me too."

I gave a short smile and resumed my charade of a fervent locker search for the right text book. Carefully I glanced at Dougie who was bouncing the hacky-sack on his knee. I waited until he had caught it on the toe of his sneaker before clearing my throat and speaking slowly; trying with very little conviction, to sounds casual.

"So are you going to the dance?"

Dougie's face showed no loss of concentration as he balanced the bag of beans on his shoe. His eyes were fixed on it, but I could sense in his extended silence, that he wasn't what one might call "euphoric" that the subject found it's way into our conversation.

He jerked his foot, sending the hacky-sack into the air, and caught it effortlessly on the other foot. There was a three second hiatus before he finally answered me, "Yea..."

I looked away, into my locker again to hide the contorting of my face, "Oh...with Rosalie?"

Dougie tossed the ball again as I spoke, this time letting it hit the floor with a soft plastic tap, and took a step closer to me, "...yea. Look, Char, she brought it up. I really wasn't going to a--"

I cut him off abruptly, "Dougie, it's a stupid High School dance. Don't worry about it."

I didn't want to hear some haphazardly thrown out apology for something I should have expected all along. I said it was a stupid dance, what I meant was; it was a stupid idea.

I held my breath as I tugged a book out of my locker and tucked it between my arm and my chest, cradling it close in a lame attempt at protecting my fragile feelings from anymore stomping. Dougie stooped down to pick up the hacky-sack. He held it in his hand, turning it over, just watching as his fingers moved the beans, changing its shape. Deforming it. His eyes never left his distraction as he spoke to me, so soft that his words didn't even echo in the empty hallway.

"It's just...I was thinking..." He trailed off, becoming lost in the disfigurement of the yellow hacky. My head swung to look at him, and I tried desperately to send him a telepathic message to keep talking. Finish the thought! Say it! Ask me!

"What?" I stared at him, "What, Dougie?"

Dougie's mouth hung open, suspended mid-word. He glanced up at me then back to his hands, "I...I don't know. Never mind."

Inside I crumbled again. I closed my eyes briefly then shifted my weight and submitted my disheartened gaze to the movement of his hands, "Oh...alright then."

"I mean, you're right it's just a stupid dance." Dougie said hastily as he looked up and tossed the hacky-sack from one hand to the other. I shrugged noncommittally.

"It's not that stupid." I mumbled to the floor.

"What?"

"Nothing." I shook my head and decided on a slight change of topic, "Does she know about...your dad?" I asked carefully.

Dougie's eyes drifted to the floor and stayed there for a moment. Then he shrugged and answered softly, "No. But I figure...she doesn't really need to, ya know? I told you." Dougie smiled like the fact that I was his confidant, that he had opened up to me, was all that was necessary. That smile faded as quickly as it had appeared and he shrugged again, "And when the year ends, I guess...I mean, I don't think anybody else needs to know." His eyes flitted slowly up to meet mine. They were wide and nervous. He was asking for some kind of approval of his decision to keep his family trauma a secret. I just smiled softly and nodded. Dougie broke the eye contact immediately, because the nod was all he wanted. He turned around and tossed the hacky-sack back into my locker.

"And, who knows. Maybe this dance thing is exactly what I need."

I looked away from him, into the depths of my locker. I sniffed and closed it, leaving any hope of being more than what we were inside. When I turned back Dougie was already beginning the walk to class, backwards, looking at me. Again waiting for some kind of validation of his thought. I just blinked and stepped alongside him.

"It's just a stupid dance." I said calmly, hoping the emotionless nonchalance hid the hurt and uncertainty. A few steps more and I saw Dougie nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Yea." He agreed.

It eludes me to this day, how we managed to fool each other.

During third period English, I sought out Drake. I had seen him in the back of the classroom before, sleeping, I had just never really had a reason to actually notice him.

He looked up with a smile as I approached his desk. Blue eyes glazing over with some kind of ego-maniacal all-knowing power. He knew I was coming to accept his invitation. The posture of his thick body showed he did.

He had leaned back casually, one leg sprawled out across the aisle. Two of his football buddies were seated near him and they both looked at me expectantly as I came to a halt.

"Hey there." Drake said, and the cocky grin could be heard in his tone.

"Hi." I smiled back and made my best attempt at flirtatiousness. If it had been Dougie, he would have burst into a hysterical fit of giggles. But somehow, Drake couldn't see through my girlie mask to the true dork underneath.

"How's it goin'?" Drake asked, coolly jerking his chin upward. I shrugged.

"It's going." Was all I could say. Sometimes things are just too much for you to completely lie about.

"That's cool." Drake continued grinning up at me, waiting patiently for the boost of ego I was sure to supply. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, opting for an absurd chuckle instead.

I'm told sometimes girls laugh at stuff thats not funny when it comes to guys they like.

"So, Drake, I just wanted to come and tell you that I'd love to go to Homecoming with you." I said quickly. The grin grew on his face, if even possible.

"Shit, you should have gotten to me sooner." He said, "I got reeled into going with this sophomore during second hour."

I think my jaw hit the floor. How did this guy manage to make the physically impossible continually happen to me?

"Oh..." I shifted uncomfortably, "Well, thats...excruciatingly... embarrassing" I stammered. Drake stood up and cut me off.

"I'm just fucking with you." He said with a satisfied smirk. I clamped my mouth shut and mentally threw myself over the edge of a cliff.

My God he is one funny fucking meathead.

Drake leaned forward and his lips ghosted past my ear, "I'm glad you changed your mind." He whispered. His hand grazed my arm as the bell rang and I turned around like a zombie to find my seat.

Danny wandered in halfway through the period, decked out in sunglasses and reeking of Axe cologne. He handed his pass to the teacher, who gave him a rather suspicious look, and made his way clumsily to the empty seat behind me.

He only ran into three other desks along the way.

"Shit, Dan, how many bowls did you smoke this morning?" I turned around and hissed as soon as the teacher had resumed her lecture. He grinned at me sleepily.

"I'm not stoned, Chaa." He laughed, "I'm hung over. I'd think you of all people would understand the difference."

"Wow, Danny, that was almost funny." I smirked, "Why are you hung over?"

"Uh, because I was drunk last night?" Danny cocked an eyebrow at me as if I was the epitome of stupidity. "You're not really following are you?"

I reached back and swiped at the sunglasses on his face. He yelped and jerked backwards, almost putting out the eye of the Junior behind him.

"You're such a twerp!" I laughed, "Why were you drunk last night? Did you finally realize that you're worthless?"

"Ouch." Danny touched his chest, "Actually I was hanging out with my lady, who happens to have a fondness for strawberry wine." He wiggled his eyebrows at me suggestively and it took less than a millisecond for me to swat his arm and nearly shriek.

"You're lady?" I practically leapt from my desk, "You've been holding out me, mother fucker! Who is it?"

Danny gave me a very condescending look and tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, "Summer Van White." His voice was rich with a husky sort of film Noir suave. I narrowed my eyes.

"Seriously?" I cocked my head to the side disbelievingly, "I thought she scared the living piss out of you during that project."

"She did. She is one scary biznatch when it comes to scholastics." He pushed his sunglasses back up and leaned forward to get an inch from my face, "But away from the prison grounds she's an animal." He purred at me.

I sat back and turned back to the teacher as she posted the assignment up on the board. After copying it down I swiveled back to face Danny, who hadn't taken his eyes off of me.

"That's so weird. You and Summer? I didn't think you were her type." I rolled my eyes at the openly aghast look on his face, "Or that she was yours for that matter."

"Me neither. But there's something about her." He sighed and shook his head, a soft sort of affectionate gesture that I had never seen Danny make over anything except a cheeseburger.

"My God, Dannyboy, you've fallen for a girl!"

"You make me sound like a fairy."

"I'll admit I was starting to have my suspicions." I grinned, "Why the hell didn't you fucking tell me?"

Danny's jaw dropped slightly and he flung his pencil at my head, luckily it missed and hit some girl in the front row.

"I did tell you, Charlotte! On the phone on Friday!" He sighed again, this time with shame, and looked down at his desk.

I stared at him, "You did not tell me." I insisted, wracking my brain for some memory of him mentioning it.

"I knew you weren't listening to me."

"I was totally listening to you..." I frowned, "Sort of."

Danny snorted, "Were you making out with your new boyfriend?" Danny teased. I glared at him. How did he find out about me and Dougie's twisted relationship? He shouldn't make fun of me.

"What are you talking about?" I scoffed, "Don't be a jackass, Danny, he's not my boyfriend."

"Oh so you and that big ole' stud of a grizzly bear in the back aren't going to the Homecoming Dance together?" He crooned, gesturing toward Drake. My head shot up and I furrowed my brow.

"Drake?" I glanced back at him. He was playing Chinese Paper Football with his friends. They were all so into it, like it was a real game and a real championship lay on the lines.

Boys are a species that I will never understand.

"Yeah." Danny tried to meet my eyes, "Who did you think I was talking about?"

I caught his gaze for a split second before looking back down at the desk between us, "I don't...nobody."

"Char, come on, what's up?" Danny leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, and tilted his face in front of mine, "Talk to me Chizzle Jizzle."

I laughed and tucked my hair nervously behind my ear. I tried to force myself to look at him, but I couldnt. Instead I managed a weak shrug and a timid smile.

"It's Dougie." He said softly. Not asking, just knowing. I lowered my head even further, letting it hit the desk with a thud.

Danny let out a slow breath and I heard his body shift as he sat back again, "I always kinda figured there was something going on."

I peeked up at him from beneath my hair, "It doesn't shock you?"

"You're kidding right?" He laughed, "It makes sense, Char. You guys have been one step away from romance for years now. I can see it in his eyes and the way he moves when he's around you. I've been making bets with myself on who'd admit it first."

"Don't tease me."

Danny leaned forward again and laid his head down on the desk beside mine so that we were eye to eye, "I'm not."

I bit my lip, "You really think it's mutual?"

"Yes. You really think I'm worthless?"

"Yes."

"Nice."

I lifted my head, resting my chin on my forearm and gazed down at him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were red, but he looked happy and content. I guess love can be found in the most unsuspected of places. Like Life Studies Class or the candy aisle at a convenience store.

"Danny I'm terrified." I whispered. He sat up and reached forward to tuck my bangs behind my ears. They tumbled back across my forehead and he smiled.

"Yeah? Well so is he."

After Danny's attempt at moral boosting, I had a hard time meandering through the day without thinking about what he said. Was it really so obvious to everyone else that me and Dougie were so confused? Not even that we were confused but that there was some underlying passion that we were trying to ignore? Did all of our friends see this? Or just the stoner kid?

I pondered over it all through the next two hours and barely managed to redirect my mind long enough to hear Leah shouting my name as I walked obliviously into a classroom door.

It caught me full on and I tumbled backwards to the floor, sprawling out across the hall like Bambi on the ice. My books scattered everywhere, and people stepped over them, sTomering and pointing at me and my Lizzie Maguire moment.

I shook my head and rubbed my temples to try and refocus my doubled vision as Leah gathered some of my books. She squatted beside me, a hand on my shoulder and checked my eyes.

"Fuck, Charlotte! Where the hell were you? Narnia?" She helped me stand up and shot a glare at the boy who had opened the door and knocked me on my ass, "Why don't you get your eyes checked, you near sighted fuckass!" She shouted at him as he loped away, a barely mumbled apology hovering in his wake.

"Shit...that hurt...a lot." I murmured and leaned back against the wall.

"Yea I'll bet." Leah scolded. She stood in front of me holding my books and waiting for me to fully return to earth. "So what were you so preoccupied with?"

"I don't even know, Lee." I sighed, "I'm really fucked in the head right now."

Her faced softened and she brushed at my hair affectionately, "I know, Char. Come on, I'll buy you a Twinkie."

Leah threw an arm around my shoulders and led me down the hallway toward the cafeteria. I followed absently, watching the floor, "How is a Twinkie supposed to help me clear my head?"

Leah snorted as we reached the vending machines and sent me a slinky smile, "I've always lived by two rules, Charlotte." She began as she dug through her back pocket for a dollar, "One: never leave the house without checking to make sure your shirt is right side out." She slid the dollar into the machine and hit the buttons, "And two." She paused again to watch the predominantly processed pastry fall to the slot below, "The best cure for a bad day is sex and Twinkies."

I stared at her as she stopped to tug it out of the bin and then handed it to me. I glanced from the Twinkie to her and then back again several times before she threw it at me.

"I don't wanna know what freaky ass things you and Tom do with your alone time." I said as we continued to the cafeteria. Leah laughed and pushed open the big glass doors.

"We sit around telling each other housekeeping secrets we read in Martha Stewart Living."

"Yeah, naked maybe." I ripped open the package and pulled a chunk off.

Leah glared at me as we approached the table, "I resent your insinuation that all we do is have sex. I'll have you know that Tom and I do a lot of other really fun things together."

"Do you make pajama pants that say 'Jesus Loves Me' on them?" I asked.

"Fuck no."

"Oh good."

She stopped and crossed her arms, "We take walks and go to the beach and play games. Normal couple stuff."

"What kind of games?" I licked some cream filling from my knuckle and looked up at her quizzically. She shrugged, clearly frustrated, in a very funny way.

"We like to play chess."

"Naked chess."

Leah swatted the back of my head with a barely suppressed laugh and we moved to join the boys already gathered around the table. Danny looked up and winked at me as I slid into the open seat beside Dougie.

"Hey." Dougie smiled at me. I set my Twinkie on the table in front of me and smiled back.

"So, Charlotte, I heard through the grape vine that you have a date for the Homecoming Dance." Tom chuckled. I narrowed my eyes at him and shifted in my seat.

"Really?" Dougie turned to stare at me, "I thought you sai--"

"Yeah he's a football hero too." Kyle joined in, pulling a very dramatic passing pose. I refocused my glare at the half eaten Twinkie in front of me.

"Footballs a pussy sport." Tom shook his head scornfully, his humor lost, swallowed up by his loathing of our schools primary athletic focus, "Our soccer team has more wins under its belt this year than the football team has had the past four."

"Don't worry, buddy, someday they'll open their eyes." Danny stuffed a forkful of cafeteria food into his mouth.

Tom let out a sardonic laugh and tossed a grape into Andy's milk carton, "Yea, they'll open 'em when I fucking nail the principal in the testicles with a soccer ball."

"Yes, Tom, use violence to make your point." Leah rolled her eyes, "All you'll show them is that the soccer players need to lay off the Gatorade."

Tom proceeded to tell Leah exactly how useful Gatorade could be, what with the electrolytes and whatnot. And Leah proceeded to tell Tom exactly how much she cared about electrolytes. I kept my eyes trained on the table, trying to count the marble spots to avoid looking up and meeting Dougie's steady stare. Or lack thereof. I made a very sneaky glance upward and saw that he was also fixated on the table, and I knew it wasn't because he had a strange fascination with crusted salad dressing.

I don't know if the others at the table were purposefully ignoring our awkward reverse staring contest, or if they were actually so wrapped up in their discussion of whether or not Gatorade counted as a performance enhancer like steroids, that they were virtually oblivious to the world around them.

Finally Dougie's voice entered the atmosphere around my head as he said very quietly, "Why didn't you say anything this morning?"

I waited a minute before blinking slowly and answering without looking up, "Say anything about what? My newfound love of anything Shia LaBeouf, or the fact that I don't really know how to swing dance?"

I could hear Dougie sigh, but I could feel in the sigh that he wasn't really sure he wanted to talk about that morning anyway.

"The swing dancing." He answered. I nodded and looked up at him for the first time. He was still staring at the table top, but I knew he was really focused intently on me. Any shift in my body or intake of breath. The tiniest toss of my head or switch in my tone. He was taking it all in and trying to find a hidden meaning. Trying to break it all down and see where my head was, see where I was going before it happened. Before I even knew.

I could tell he was doing this because its exactly what I was doing.

That whole, sixth sense thing I mentioned.

"Well, Poynter, I have a general idea of how to swing dance. But it was a horrendous lie when I said I was a professional."

Dougie laughed and reached for what was left of my Twinkie, "Can I have this?" He asked, his eyebrows raised and his eyes big and innocent. I pretended to consider it for a minute; squinting and rubbing my chin.

"Yes, but it'll cost you."

"Name it."

"Well since I already own your soul, maybe you could give me that brownie." I smiled and pointed to the Little Debbie snack sitting near Dougie's elbow.

He turned and grabbed it, holding it out to me, but stopped and pulled it away, "I'm gonna need you to do something for me."

I glared at him and made a swipe for the brownie, "That's not really how this whole trading thing works, Dougie."

He laughed and slid the brownie under his t-shirt. I opened my mouth to protest and shut it quickly, staring after my dessert as it disappeared in a place I had only ever dreamed of going. I glanced up at Dougie, "You're underestimating me."

"No I'm not." He smirked.

"Oh so you think I won't spear you off your chair and tear your shirt to shreds for a brownie?"

Dougie's cheeky grin spread wider, "I'm one hundred percent aware that you would do that and so much worse for a crumb of a brownie."

"Spare your corny clothing and give me that brownie."

"There's nothing corny about Smurfs."

"I swear to God, Dougie, if you don't give me tha---" I watched Dougie dip the tip of his forefinger into the cream filling and lick it off, his eyes trained on my face the entire time. After that it took me a long time to get myself back on track and before I could speak, Dougie leaned forward, a centimeter from my ear, and whispered;

"Just save me a dance?"

I moved my head to look at him. He had the smallest of hopeful smiles on his face, almost masked with defensive cockiness, but not enough that I couldn't see right through it. I smiled and slid my hand quickly up the front of his shirt, grabbing the brownie and earning the softest of gasps from his lips as my hand brushed over his skin.

"Done."