If this was a date, Harper Finkle would be freaking out.

In fact, she was sure Alex, when told about this after school event, would call it a date. The facts were these: Zeke asked her to the smoothie place, offered to pay, held the door open for her and had successfully ordered for her.

Technically he had suggested getting the strawberry-banana flavor, as it was his favorite and she "seems like the type to appreciate a good strawnana." Harper, of course, agreed to get his suggestion. She would consume a dirt and worm smoothie if Zeke Beekerman had told her it was good (but she was really glad that he didn't).

Then, when they went to sit down, Zeke pulled out a chair for her.

All of these were signs of a date. Harper read the teen magazines – she knew. But, because he never used the actual word date, she was able to stay calm and not spill her smoothie or let it dribble down her chin.

Zeke, on the other hand, had been a victim of the latter. It was the second time that day he'd had liquids dripping from his face. He had quickly grabbed a napkin and wiped, praying she hadn't noticed.

She had, but she pretended that she didn't. Instead she continued her story about her greeting card dress. He had been so enthusiastic about it, asking where she got the cards and how long it took her to make it.

"I had so many cards that were just sitting around in boxes, you know?" She took a sip of her smoothie, noting that she was almost finished with it. He had been right – she did appreciate a good strawnana. "I never throw anything away if I can help it. You know, I still have so many old school assignments that I think could make some killer accessories."

Zeke grinned, fingers scratching at the back of his head as he spoke. "Would you make me a hat out of your A-plus papers?" he questioned, raising a brow. Was he flirting? He didn't mean to flirt, nor did he know how to flirt, so he chalked it up to just being nice. Besides, he liked hats and he liked good grades, so he was simply sharing a common interest.

"I don't know about that," she replied, moving the straw around with her finger as she spoke. She finished the smoothie, so now the cup and straw were just playthings. If her nervous energy had somewhere to go, her brain could properly respond and be charming and clever. The magazines always say to be charming and clever. "Maybe the A-minuses. I don't know if you've earned the pluses yet."

Zeke's hand moved to his chest as he pretended to be shocked. He was an amazing actor, after all, so he had no trouble displaying this basic emotion. "What's a guy gotta do to earn the pluses, huh?" Noticing her empty cup (and realizing he had finished his moments before), Zeke reached a hand out, fingers grasping the cup and casually brushing against her fingertips. "How about I take your trash? Where will that get me?"

Was he flirting? Harper didn't know much about flirting. All she knew was that her heart was pounding, her cheeks were flushed and she was memorizing every line to write in her journal. She may even write to the teen magazines with this one, or save it for a novel or screenplay.

"Um…that, I…." Deep breath in, she thought to herself, and then slowly let it out. She had to play it cool. For a second she almost wished she had magical help, until she remembered how amazing the butterflies felt. When she was fearless she felt almost nothing. She asked him out, told him he was cute and had no problems standing close to him.

But now? Now the slightest touch sent the blood rushing. This was more magical than anything she'd ever experienced.

"I think it could bump you up to a solid A," she finally mumbled, slowly pulling her hand away. He did the same, flashing a quick smile in her direction before standing up. They both gathered their bags, Harper following him to the trash can.

"That was a pretty easy A," Zeke noted, waving a hand to let her walk in front of him through the crowded restaurant. "I think you're grading on a curve."

Harper let out a genuine laugh at his nerd humor, glancing back to share another giggling moment. When she did, she didn't notice the boy with the blueberry smoothie coming right toward her.

It was like a scene from a movie, everything going in slow motion. Zeke shouted for them to watch out, and Harper let out a shriek as the cold beverage hit her skin, dripping down her dress and onto the floor. Everyone around was silent except for the smoothie owner. That laugh was a laugh she recognized.

"MacGruder," she mumbled, locking eyes with her art nemesis. Under normal circumstances she would retaliate, or yell, or accuse him of doing this on purpose. After all, Harper Finkle was undefeated in Mr. Laritate's art-off competitions thanks to the power of kittens.

But when she noticed the amount of blue liquid dripping down her dress, and felt the chills of being doused with cold beverage, all she could do was stand there. Tears began filling her eyes as MacGruder walked off, complaining that he'd have to buy a new smoothie. She thought she heard Zeke yell something after him but she couldn't be sure.

The dress she had worked so hard on. The cards she had saved from important occasions in her life – sometimes the only gift she received from her parents, but she always understood – so many of them were now stained, making the dress sticky and unwearable.

She didn't want to blink. She didn't want to start crying. It wasn't until she felt Zeke's hand touch her shoulder that she finally gave in. He leaned toward her, whispering what she thought was comforting words. She couldn't make them out. He then reached into his backpack, pulling out his cheerleading pants and a gold T-shirt.

"Go change," he mumbled as he handed them to her, head motioning toward the bathroom. "I'll wait for you. I don't want you to be cold and sticky." As she took the clothes he brought his fingers up to her cheek, gently wiping the few tears which had fallen.

Before she could even change into the clothes she was sure would be too big for her, Harper had to ask him one question. Her wet eyes locked with his, a hint of a smile pulling onto her lips.

"Why do you have these?" she asked, holding up the partial uniform. They had been banned from games which meant the team hadn't been practicing. Even if they had, Tuesday wasn't a practice day. It made no sense for him to carry around his uniform.

"The same reason I have tap shoes in my locker," he answered, acting as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. She didn't look like she understood what he was saying, so he explained further. "In case of emergencies."

While she still looked completely heartbroken, Zeke saw a flash of amusement in her eyes. She nodded, heading into the bathroom, leaving him to wait outside.

The moment he had seen tears start to form was the moment he started internally freaking out. Sure, he played it cool with her, but he honestly didn't know how to deal with girl tears. The closest he had been through was Justin tears – he wasn't allowed to speak of that moment, though, so he mentally made a note to ask anyone currently reading his thoughts to not discuss that incident with anyone.

He knew he had to busy himself while he waited, so he grabbed napkins to begin cleaning up the mess. He couldn't begin to imagine how upset Harper was. He knew how long she had worked on that dress, and he knew the staining power of blue beverages.

He tossed the napkins into the trash, requested a plastic bag to store Harper's sticky dress in, then pulled his personalized Tribeca Prep Turkeys senior hoodie from his backpack and zipped it up. He held Harper's backpack in one hand while slinging his own backpack over his shoulders.

Once he had stopped keeping busy was when the troubled thoughts flooded his mind. He was starting to think this was the universe working against him. It was punishment for almost breaking the bro code. MacGruder was the universe's sign that he needed to stop flirting with his best friend's ex girl.

Zeke looked up just as Harper came from the bathroom. His clothes were too big for her, the pants baggy and looking out of place with her dressy flats, and the T-shirt hanging loosely on her frame. She had balled her dress and sweater up as if she didn't want to look at them. Her red eyes and smeared eye make-up told him that she'd cried more in the bathroom.

His hand took the clothes from her, placing it in the plastic bag and gripping the handle. He didn't mind carrying it for her. The universe couldn't punish him for being polite.

Harper took the hoodie he offered, zipping it up before examining his name stitched on the front. Under normal circumstances she would be jumping for joy. Senior Turkey hoodies were the equivalent of a letterman jacket in those old movies she loved to watch on TV. When the girls wore those it meant they were courtin'.

This wasn't one of those movies, Harper reminded herself. It was just a sticky situation.

She took her bag, and Zeke gently placed a hand against her back to let her know he was right behind her as they left.

The walk to the Russo residence was almost silent. Every so often Zeke would speak, but it was never anything important. He didn't have the words to fix this. His mind was racing with plenty of them, but none of them seemed right. Casual comments about the weather or school work didn't do anything to help.

Theresa noticed something was off when they entered the Waverly Sub Station, but Zeke quickly shook his head at her. It was a signal – 'Don't say anything.' He tried to offer the woman a smile, a 'Don't worry, I've got this,' but he was sure it came out as a nervous grin instead. Harper wasn't paying attention, instead walking through the restaurant so she could go to her room.

She stopped, however, when she realized how quiet she had been to Zeke. He was only trying to help, and she certainly didn't blame him for any of the events which had occurred. It was all clumsiness and rivalries he had no part in. She placed her bag on an empty table, then reached her arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. It was no longer about courage or being cool, but rather comfort and gratefulness.

The motion took Zeke by surprise, but he managed to gently set her dress bag on the table before sliding his arms around her. His hands awkwardly touched her lower back, slipping up higher as he worried he had crossed a line. She buried her face against his neck, tears silently falling onto his skin while the scent of blueberry filled his nose.

He held on tight, once again mentally asking anyone who was reading his mind to not repeat his thoughts to anyone else. Maybe the universe wasn't against him after all. It wouldn't torture him like this.

Zeke wasn't sure how long they stood like that (and he secretly wished it was longer), but as she pulled away he ignored the eyes watching the teenagers closely. He was sure it was an odd sight, but odd sights were a daily occurrence for the customers at the Waverly Sub Station.

"Thank you," she said between sniffles. His hands moved up to gently clasp her hands, giving them a squeeze before he unlinked them. She smiled, her hands wiping at her eyes. She knew she looked like a mess, but he wasn't running away screaming. That was something. "I don't know if it means anything but I think you've earned the A-plus."

He knew it might not be the most appropriate moment, but Zeke let out a laugh. He hadn't expected that comment, and he couldn't hide how happy it made him.

"It means the world," he promised, his voice a bit louder than he meant for it to be. Volume control was not his best ability.

He didn't care, though. In that moment he was standing with the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life, and he had once played Dungeons and Gargoyles with Bibi Rockford. Harper was comfortable enough with him that she wasn't hiding her face or running away even though she'd been crying. His hoodie was too big for her, but Zeke was sure it had never fit anyone more perfectly than it did her.

He shook his head, an action meant to shake away the thoughts but an odd one to actually perform in front of people who couldn't hear his thoughts. Harper noticed this odd behavior, quirking a brow and attempting to catch his eyes. He blushed.

"You…" he began, and while 'are beautiful' or 'are amazing' came to mind, he couldn't say them without feeling guilty. He had to talk to Justin. "…Should probably go shower."

Harper nodded, picking up her backpack and dress bag. "Thanks again, Zeke. I'm really glad we hung out, even if things weren't perfect. It was…very real."

Zeke didn't know what that meant, but he knew it was the perfect word to describe their almost-date. It was the best almost-date he'd ever been on. "It was," he agreed. "I'm gonna go give Justin his gift, then brag because my character is way cooler than his." He stood there awkwardly, adjusting his bag upon his back then pushing his hair around his face.

Should he hug her again? Shake her hand? Wave? Give her a thumbs up and salute?

She mumbled a quiet 'See you' before turning around, so he was left standing there. With a sigh he started toward the spiral staircase. He didn't get very far, though. Standing on the staircase, a smug smile on his face, stood Justin Russo.

"Aw man. How…how long have you been there?" Zeke asked, forcing a happy voice to mask the slight fear he felt.

Justin tried to look stern, but the only emotion he could muster was complete amusement.

"Just long enough to watch you flirt with Harper Finkle."