“For two weeks now,we'd been meeting when we could. Which, tragically, had been all of four short times: three at his house, once at mine, for a small amount of French before a lot of kissing. We'd had one furtive little interlude in an empty music room at school, but I'd been too nervous to really get into that one. At home, we were entwined, fingers and lips. At school, we barely spoke.”

“Okay,three things,and one of them has to be in French."I was back in the weird squashy chair; Alex was flopped on the bed.This time, along with the lemon soda, there were two bags of Doritos on the floor between us. He'd had one waiting. I'd brought one."I don't think this is what Mademoiselle Winslow had in mind," I told him.Truth: Despite all my good intentions to keep Frankie happy and my hopes down, I'd been looking forward to this all week, hoping Alex wouldn't forget. I'd thought up and rethought clever things I could say. Further Truth: I didn't want to sound like I'd been looking forward to it all week and thinking up what I wanted to say.Home truth: Yes, I am that pitiful.”

“Where are we going?""East. To where the sun rises.""Seriously?"He thumped the dash-not too hard-and I actually felt a little burst of warm air. "You've been to Long Beach Island, right?You told me that in an e-mail.""yeah, Surf City.""We have a house in Barnegat Light. I thought we'd go there. We'll have breakfast somewhere and come back. You okay with that?"The beach. In late December. At night. "I'm absolutely fine with it.""So," he said."So.""We okay?""I think so," I answered. "I hope we'll be a lot better than that.""Yeah,me,too.”

“Mr. Stone is a jackass."That was Alex's greeting when he found me in the hall Friday afternoon."Probably," I agreed, levering myself out of the corner where I'd been waiting, on nervous Hannanda alert, for him to show up. "But I don't think he can help it.""Generous of you." Alex swung his backpack from his left shoulder to his right, then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, pulled mine out of my hand. I was too surprised to stop him. "Allons-y."We turned a few heads as we went. I would have happily met him a block away from school, but he'd preempted my cowardice, sliding a note into my locker that morning. Front hall, 3:15. I ignored the stares as Alex held the big front door open for me, my heavily inked bag dangling from his wrist. I figured any speculation would last only as long as it would take for us to hit the street in front of the school. By then, at least one "Wait. Wait. Alex Bainbridge left with Freddy Krueger?" would have been met with "Yeah. He's tutoring her in French. Winslow's making him.”

“Dad's in D.C. all week," he said as we climbed out, "so I get to use the garage. Parking's a bitch around here."I didn't know whether to roll my eyes or sympathize."Is your mom home?" I really didn't know how I felt about seeing Karina Romanova in her own home. Well,no.Truth: I was worried how she would feel about seeing me in it."Will she mind my being here?""Why would she?" Alex gave me an odd look as he pushed open a small door onto a wide brick patio. "But no, she's at the studio until midnight. It's just you,me,and the lacrosse team."I could see myself with amazing clarity in the huge glass wall that was the entire back of the house. I was small, dark, and frozen. "You're kidding, right?"Next to mine, Alex's reflection looked twice as big and ust as still. "You're kidding. Right?"I nodded. Clearly not emphatically enough."Christ,Ella. Who do you think I am?"I sighed. Honestly, I didn't know. "I think you're probably a terrific guy, Alex. But let's be truthful here.We don't really know each other.""Oh,come one.We've gone to school together for two and a half years. I've been to Marino's..." He stopped. Sighed. "Okay.Fine.So let's change it. Now." And he unlocked the door to his house.”

“Alex was right in front of the mantel now, bent forward, his nose mere inches from a picture of me."Oh,God. Don't look at that!"It was from the year-end recital of my one and only year of ballet class. I was six: twig legs, a huge gap where my two front teeth had recently been, and a bumblebee costume. Nonna had done her best, but there was only so much she could do with yellow and black spandex and a bee butt. Dad had found one of those headbands with springy antennai attached. I'd loved the antennae. The more enthusiastic my jetes, the more they bounced. Of course, I'd also jeted my flat-chested little self out of the top of my costume so many times that, during the actual recital itself,I'd barely moved at all, victim to the overwhelming modesty of the six-year-old. Now, looking at the little girl I'd been, I wished someone had told her not to worry so much, that within a year, that smooth, skinny, little bare shoulder would have turned into the bane of her existence. That she was absolutely perfect."Nice stripes," Alex said casually, straightening up.That stung. It should't have-it was just a photo-but it did. I don't know what I'd expected him to say about the picture. It wasn't that. But then, I didn't expect the wide grin that spread across his face when he got a good look at mine, either."Those," he announced, pointing to a photo of my mulleted dad leaning against the painted hood of his Mustang "are nice stripes. That-" he pointed to the me-bee- "Is seriously cute.""You're insane," I muttered, insanely pleased."Yeah,well, tell me something I don't know." He took the bottle and plate from me. "I like knowing you have a little vanity in there somewhere." He stood, hands full, looking expectant and completely beautiful.The reality of the situation hadn't really been all that real before. Now, as I started up the stairs to my bedroom, Alex Bainbridge in tow, it hit me. I was leading a boy, this boy, into my very personal space.Then he started singing."You're so vain, I bet you think this song is about you. You're sooo vain....!" He had a pretty good voice. It was a truly excellent AM radio song.And just like that, I was officially In Deep”

“Would you like to dance?"I knew I had frosting on my nose.Alex leaned over and wuped it off with his thumb. "Well?"I could only nod. I had a full mouth, too. I stood up, swallowed, and accepted the napkin he was holding. "You're here.""I'm here," he agreed, like it hadn't been a ridiculous thing to say. "I am crashing your sister's wedding. Hope she won't mind.""She won't mind."He was wearing a tux. A real tux, complete with bow tie and silk lapels. I stroked one. "I'm guessing this isn't a rental."He squirmed a little. "No, it's mine. Nice dress."I looked down at the snug purple monstrosity my sister had chosen. At least it had a mandarin collar and some sleeves. "It's a cheongsam," she'd announced proudly. "It's Eggplant Ho Lee Mess" was Frankie's take. My pear-shaped cousin Vanessa got strapless. Now she looked like an eggplant."You look beautiful," Alex said, but the corner of his mouth was twitching."Well,you look like...like..." I sighed. "Okay, you look really really good." Then, again, "You're here.""I'm here.""Why?""I missed you," he said simply."It's only been four days.""A very,very long four days. But your e-mail helped." He reached for my hand. "Now,are we dancing or not?"We did, and it wasn't as complicated as I'd thought it might be. I stood on my toes, he bent down a little, and we fit together pretty well. The song ended way too soon."So," Alex said."So.""We can stay here if you want to...or if you have to. But I have another suggestion. Let's go watch the sun rise."It sounded like a good idea to me. Except... "It's ten o'clock. And it's freezing out there.""Trust me," he said."okay.”