“I went into the hall and looked out the front window for the twentienth time and told myself to relax for the fiftieth. It could not be healthy, this breathless, silly, heart-pounding state I'd been in since I'd called him back and left a message and he'd called me back and I'd been convinced he could hear my heartbeat through the phone. All so I could run around my room like a hamster on crack, tripping over discarded jeans and trying to figure out where I'd dropped yesterday's bra.”

“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.”

“Alex shrugged out of his jacket and slung it onto the bed.When he reached for mine, I tried to remember if I'd taken the tampon out of the pocket. I could just imagine it winging across the room.But Alex hung the jacket carefully over the back of the chair.”

“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.”

“I was still convinced that I was going to wake up, or walk out of a bathroom, or look up from my homework to discover I'd imagined the whole thing.”

“I'd always made a point of talking to Edward only when I could look him in the face. Otherwise,it seemed a little too nutso, even to me.”

“Hey,Alex." I composed the words in my head. "I have your book..."D'oh.I would be standing there, holding his book."Alex.Thought you might want to have this back."Nope.Sounded like I'd taken it, which would be bizarre, or that he'd given it to me, which would be ludicrous."Hey.This was on the floor in the upstairs hall, and I figured you probably didn't know where it was." Truth is always good.He would look blank for a sec (he probably had no idea he'd dropped it; European history was first period ), then smile gratefully, hazel eyes crinkling at the corners, that mouth turning up in that unbelievably cute way."Wow.Thanks,Ella! I didn't even know I'd dropped it."See?And I would hand it over-if our fingers brushed, no complaints-and say, "I saw the stuff inside.It's really...""El.Ella." Sadie bumped me with her button again. "Coming?""Hmm?""Where were you? Oh, yeah..." She followed my slightly unfocused gaze and nodded. On her other side, Frankie snorted. She elbowed him.No button on the other sleeve.”