Alex approached Harper with a grin on her face, but Harper Finkle barely noticed her friend's appearance in a class neither of them were sure she was actually in. It had, after all, been a while since Alex had appeared in that room.

"The whole school is buzzing about you and Zeke," Alex said excitedly. It was rare for Alex to get excited about anything that wasn't illegal or frowned upon, especially before lunch time. Still, public displays of affection might have been against Tribeca Prep rules, so maybe that qualified as "frowned upon" enough for Alex to be okay with being excited about it.

Or maybe Alex was just excited that her best friend had found a guy she really liked. This must have been how Harper felt when Alex was going out with Riley or Dean or Mason, only amplified by like a thousand since Harper tended to take an emotion and run with it.

Alex's thoughts were interrupted when Harper finally snapped out of her daydream and acknowledged her best friend's statement.

"Wait, how does everyone already know? It just happened. I haven't even told you yet!" Harper paused, pulling Alex's cell phone from her pocket and handing it to her. She knew, however, she should have waited. Phones weren't allowed in class and now Alex was going to spend the whole time texting. Alex raised her eyebrows.

"Toaster," Harper explained. "Now, how did you know?"

"I was watching," she answered, and upon realizing how creepy that sounded, she let out a loud laugh. This gathered the attention of her classmates but Alex just rolled her eyes. "It's why Justin dragged me to school. He knew all of this was happening and he was all, 'You don't wanna miss this' and I was all, 'Then record it 'cause I'm sleeping' and he was all 'That's a Pop-Tart.'"

Harper knew this was one of those times where she shouldn't ask, so instead she focused on the important thing - how everyone else knew. "Okay, so you were watching, but what about everyone else? I know word travels fast but c'mon." Harper refused to believe anyone cared about her or Zeke enough to talk about them.

"I don't know, Harper," Alex responded, eyes focused on her phone as she typed up a text message. "Justin and Zeke probably told everyone. You know, to clear up those rumors about Zeke."

"What rumors?"

Alex's eyes went wide as she glanced up to see the innocence in her best friend's face. There were always rumors that Zeke was different than the other boys, or that he was a bit too close to Justin. She was pretty sure everyone had heard them, though Alex never believed them. Did she really want to try to explain them to Harper?

"Uh, well, you know - that Zeke's...never kissed a girl," Alex said. That'll do. "Yeah, that's the rumor."

Harper thought about it for a moment, chin rested in her palm. She just couldn't wipe the the dreamy look from her face. "Oh," she responded, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. "I'd never heard that, though."

This did not surprise Alex, not only because she'd made it up, but because Harper had a habit of not hearing the negative rumors. "That's 'cause you're not tuned into the gossip station, Harper," Alex explained knowingly. "It's on FM radio, and you're...wait, what's the other one?"

"You mean AM?" Harper asked. It was an easy answer, but Harper was still impressed by her ability to answer - she was sure her brain had turned to mush after the hallway incident. Maybe she'd get through school today after all.

"No, no, that's another way of saying 'morning.'" Alex waved her hand. "Anyway, it's not important. The important thing is that you and Zeke are totally the hot topic right now, and that means people aren't paying attention to me so I can totally get away with stuff. Good job!" With that she gave her best friend a thumbs up and stood up, ready to walk out of class.

Unfortunately that was when the teacher decided to enter.

"Sit down, Ms. Russo," she said, and Alex sank back into her seat.

"Guess not," Harper whispered, patting her friend on the back. "Better luck next time."

Zeke Beekerman was so eager to walk Harper home that he altered his Wednesday routine. Instead of talking to Justin, checking in with his favorite librarian or listening to a funny anecdote from the guy who stocked the vending machine in the teacher's lounge, Zeke went straight to his locker and down to the water fountain near Harper's locker. After taking a drink he decided to lean against the locker next to hers, waiting for her to arrive.

All day he had gotten questions about what happened between him and Harper. He heard whispers when he walked by, and received random high fives from people he'd never even spoken to. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what those people had heard. He didn't really talk much about the actual event, unsure of what the situation had really meant.

He hadn't asked Harper to be his girlfriend. They technically weren't "dating" - she had just agreed to a date. That was the first step, though. He realized he sort of skipped a step by kissing her right then and there, but Zeke wasn't one to follow the steps.

Well, he was one to follow the steps in dance class, but romance was not a dance class.

Actually, he'd heard a quote once that compared marriage to a dance. It was sweet, something about choosing your partner and also having balance. He liked that quote, but chose to not focus on it right now. Knowing his nerves - because yes, he had them - he would blurt it out and freak Harper Finkle out. He wasn't thinking about marriage. He just wanted to have dinner with her.

"You're in my way."

Zeke's thoughts were interrupted by a female voice. He glanced over to see Penelope Carmichael tapping her foot impatiently, her books held close to her chest. "That's my locker," she said, emphasizing her ownership over the property.

Zeke didn't have to heart to tell her that technically she didn't own the locker, she was just allowed to use it. It was still Tribeca Prep property. That was the second thing they taught you in Locker Refurbish Club.

"Sorry," Zeke said, sliding over in front of Harper's locker. He watched as the girl picked off taped notes from the front of her locker, and Zeke had to laugh. What kind of person taped notes to a locker? Oh wait, he had done that.

"Oh, here," he said, noticing a piece of paper on the ground. "I think you dropped one." The girl took the paper just as Harper Finkle approached her locker.

She was full of energy and nerves. She'd made a quick dash to the bathroom to check her hair and make-up, feeling girlier than ever. She didn't want to look bad - he might change his mind about wanting to walk her home.

Zeke's eyes widened as he saw her, and his hands quickly raised in front of his chest.

"She dropped it," he insisted loudly, then pointed toward Penelope. "I didn't give that to her, I swear."

Harper's eyebrows raised. "Zeke," she said, hand reaching out to grab his. "It's OK. I didn't think you did. Calm down."

Zeke let out a sigh of relief as he slid to the next locker over, allowing Harper to work her combination lock. "I just didn't want you to think I was giving notes to other girls, that's all. I haven't given a girl - other than you, of course - a note since I made Lacey Morrison a Valentine in fifth grade."

Harper giggled as she took out his hoodie and put away the books she wouldn't need for the night. "What happened with that?"

Zeke shouldn't have brought it up, he decided, embarrassment washing over him. He wasn't going to go into the whole story. "She broke my heart," he answered instead. "Literally. There was tearing and dirt involved. It was...tragic. Really."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harper said honestly. Sure, he was just talking about a little kid crush, but Harper understood how much it hurt. "If it helps, I promise there will be no tearing or dirt."

"It helps a lot, actually!" Zeke didn't feel the need to ask Harper if she was ready to go. They both just seemed to start walking toward the door. He wasn't sure if he should try to hold her hand or offer to carry her bag or anything like that, so instead he shoved his hands into his pocket, racking his brain for things to talk about. His eyes landed on her earrings - or earring, rather.

"Hey, what happened to the other one?" He pointed to the spot where the green gummy bear used to dangle. Yes, he had memorized the colors.

Harper reached up, touching her bare ear. "Alex got hungry during class," she answered, frowning a bit. "I thought she was gonna bite my ear off for a second!"

"Well, I like the look. I don't know if I told you that earlier, but I meant to. You look nice." Zeke's hand came from his pocket, smacking himself - a bit harder than he meant to - in the forehead. "That's such a lame compliment. 'I like looking at you.'"

Harper wasn't really sure if he was talking to her or to himself. He was acting as nervous as she felt earlier. It was nice to see that someone who pulled a flawless romantic stunt still had worries and goofy moments, especially since she felt that way most of the time.

"I like looking at you, too," she said loudly. She held out her hand, her eyes catching his. Then she smiled, and that was all Zeke needed to feel comfortable again. He took her hand in his, fingers lacing with hers.

"So, you make a lot of cool outfits all the time. Do you ever, you know, have an idea and it just doesn't work out? 'Cause I've had that. With robots. I mean, people always think giving them free will is a great idea but it's not. Not that I've built free-thinking robots. I know better than that." Zeke paused, realizing he was talking faster than usual and was probably not making too much sense.

Harper, however, understood it. Not-so-much the robot parts, but the failed ideas. Later she would analyze this conversation and freak out thinking he was using this as a metaphor relating to their relationship and how it wouldn't work out, but her worries would fade when Justin explains how Zeke prefers similes. (Alex, meanwhile, would not understand what any of that meant, but she'd be around for any support session if it meant she got ice cream.)

"I was going to make a dress out of matches," Harper began, "but I realized soon after that if I bumped up against a wall the whole thing would go up in flames and I really didn't want to chance it."

"That's the problem with those strike anywhere matches," Zeke said, nodding his head in agreement. "Would've been a neat dress, though. You know...before the flames. I guess the flames would be kind of neat, too, but then, if you survived being engulfed in fire, you'd get the name 'Fireproof Finkle' and that would...well, that'd actually be kind of cool." He paused, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't try it, though, not even for the cool nickname. I don't want to see you in the burn unit."

That was probably the most romantic thing Zeke Beekerman had ever said to a girl.

Rather than turn all gooey over it, Harper tried to continue thinking of failed dress designs.

"Made a dress out of umbrellas once," she told him proudly.

"Please tell me the bottom part was an open umbrella and your headband was-"

"One of those mini ones, yeah."

They were both so excited about this design, nodding happily, huge smiles on their faces. Anyone paying attention to them would be jealous of how they bounced back and forth in conversation, flawlessly connecting with one another.

"So what was the problem?" Zeke asked.

"It was raining the day I decided to wear it," Harper answered. When Zeke still looked confused, Harper explained further. "I...there was some guy. He didn't have an umbrella. Totally tried to use my dress as an umbrella."

"Umbrella upskirt?" Zeke questioned, and Harper nodded.

"Yeah. Not a fan! I had shorts on underneath, thank goodness. It was still really embarrassing and..." She trailed off, partially because she realized they'd reached the sub shop and partially because she was embarrassed by the story she'd just told. "I haven't told anyone that story before. I mean, outside of Alex."

For once Zeke Beekerman didn't feel the need to say anything. He wanted to say that he was glad she felt comfortable enough with him to tell that story. He wanted to say that he wouldn't tell anyone, that her secret was safe with him. He wanted to say that she should feel free to tell him any story, because the sound of her voice calmed his nerves and the brightness of her smile warmed his soul.

But he didn't need to say it because he was pretty sure she knew. There was no possible way she was looking at him with those bright, innocent eyes and not feeling what he was feeling.

"Are you gonna kiss me now?" Harper hadn't meant to ask it, but the words sort of popped out and it was too late to take it back.

Zeke shook his head, but began explaining himself before the disappointment could settle on Harper's face.

"I want to take you out on a proper date, Harper Finkle. We can't go smoochin' all willy-nilly! You are too amazing for that. I want to woo you right." He raised her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. "You're a classy lady and I need to respect that."

Harper pulled her hand from his grasp, placing her fingertips on his cheek. "You're so cute when you say things like 'woo' and 'willy-nilly,'" she whispered, and with a bout of courage she brought her lips to his.

There was only one thing Zeke could say when he broke their kiss, eyes a bit wide and smile forming on his lips. "I have to go to work." He the frowned. "I'm sorry. But thank you. Can I call you later?" His brain was once again working in fragments, with too many thoughts pushing to get out at once, none of them fully escaping in a proper manner.

"You better," she answered. "I'm a classy lady. You gotta woo me right." She paused, realizing his hoodie was still in her hand. She'd never gotten a chance to return it. "Oh, here. I washed it. We're getting the rest dry-cleaned."

She had tried to hand him the hoodie, but he just shook his head, pushing her hand away. "Keep it," he insisted. "It looks better on you. Consider that part of the 'woo process.'" And with that (and a wave), Zeke turned around on Waverly Place and walked off.

He was an expert on the woo process, Harper decided, hugging the hoodie close to her as she watched him leave. Lacey Morrison didn't know what she was missing out on.