Oh. My. God.

Squared.

Lucas was pushing Hanna Marin's lawnmower over the long grass - main word being Hanna. He had decided to go out for dinner, thinking that people watching might be an interesting endeavor and he, as usual, had taken the long route, wanting to walk past Hanna's house, assuming that she would have better places to be than home.

But he had been stunned speechless when he stumbled upon her bent at the waist, her cute, jean-clad butt sticking out, her beautiful blond hair much too close to a lawnmower for his comfort – even one that wouldn't start. It was almost too good to be true, like fate. Fate had wanted him here, to be the knight to her distressed damsel. He smiled. This was the best Friday night ever.

"Hey!" Hanna shouted, waving her arms at him to get his attention – as if she had to try. Then she held up one drink, yellow – the traditional lemonade, he guessed. But he noted a second glass in her hand. That was a surprise. She sat down gracefully, tucking her long legs under her on the steps of her house. It wasn't that he had expected her to desert him out here, but he... had been expecting her to desert him out here like any other popular girl would've done.

He booted it, eager to be able to sit down with Hanna, have a talk, some lemonade. He was doing an internal football touchdown dance when he finally turned the machine off and did an easy, un-eager (cool, Lucas, be COOL) walk up to her steps and sat down next to her.

"Thanks," he said, picking up the drink. "This is really good."

"Frozen lemonade. I think it was like 50 cents or something," Hanna said with a shrug and a laugh.

"Awesome. Just like mom makes," he said setting the glass down. "So, are you going to explain this whole thing to me?"

He watched Hanna go still, then tilt her head thinking. Lucas didn't really need her to tell him, it was pretty obvious what was going on, especially since they had auctioned most of her stuff off online. But maybe she needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand.

"The economy," Hanna said, shrugging her slim, birdlike shoulders. Then she laughed, but as someone who had spent almost every day of his life listening to her laughs, he knew this one was fake. Forced.

"It can be quite the bitch, can't it?" he said, without thinking.

Hanna, who had been mid-sip of her lemonade choked as she started to laugh. Immediately, not even thinking of personal space or the fact that she was, well, The Hanna Marin, he began to rub her back, trying to ease the discomfort he had so stupidly caused. He continued rubbing until he felt the stiffness leave her back, then hastily snatched his hand away, trying to stop himself from turning red.

"I can't believe you just said bitch," Hanna said. "I don't think I've ever heard you swear."

"Oh, I swear, all right."

"Yeah?" Hanna challenged. "Say the "f" word."

"Hanna, come on," Lucas said.

"Say it," she commanded.

"I could say it. I have before, but – I just don't think it's a polite thing to say in front of a lady."

"A lady?" Hanna laughed.

"A girl. Woman? A woman."

"You already said bitch," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's a female dog."

"Ah, first grade logic."

"You must've had a dirty mind for a first grader!" Lucas teased.

"Oh, shut up," Hanna said, bumping shoulders playfully with him. "You did a really great job on the lawn. I'm sorry I ruined your night."

"You didn't. If anything, you improved it," he said without thinking. "It's always nice to be able to hang out with you."

"Yeah. It's nice to hang out with you, too," Hanna said, stretching her arms above her head.

Lucas was stunned at her beauty. Did she even realize how breathtaking she was? All tanned skin and legs and those eyes. And he was sitting next to her. Not Sean. Him. Wait, why...

"Why didn't you call Sean?" Lucas asked. "I'm sure he would've –"

"I did call him. He was going out with his friends. Some basketball thing, I guess. He was pretty upset I couldn't make it," she said in a sad whisper.

"But... you're his girlfriend and you needed help," Lucas said, utterly dumbfounded. Maybe it was just him, but when your girlfriend needed your help, everything else came second. But maybe that's why he had been single his whole life – no one wants to date the nice guy.

"Yeah, I wish it worked that way," Hanna said with a laugh.

"It could, you know," Lucas said.

"Well, not this time, I guess. It would take some sort of dog whisperer to train Sean," she said getting up.

Lucas followed in suit. Quickly he finished his lemonade and handed her the glass. He had overstayed his welcome. God, he was such a loser. Of course she didn't want to hang out with him. He probably shouldn't have even –

"So, since you missed out on your dinner, how about you come in and I can make us something?"

Too stunned to say yes, Lucas simply made sure his mouth wasn't gaping open and followed her inside. He couldn't help but laugh when she called back to him: "Though, I have to admit now, this may end up like the lawnmower debacle so don't be surprised if you end up wearing my mom's never used "Kiss the cook" apron."

"Wait? What?" Lucas said, shaking his head.

"You're such a dork, I was kidding. I can handle frozen pizza."

"... just like mom makes."

Best. Friday. Night. Ever.