“Truth or dare.""Not fair. You already had a turn.""Correct me if I'm wrong, but this little excursion was to make me happy."I sighed, knowing I'd already lost. "You're right.""DO I look happy to you?" He visibly deflated in his seat and pulled down the corners of his mouth. He looked like a very pretty scarecrow. "Well?""No,Mr. Hobbes, you do not look happy.""So..."I eyed the racks around us. There seemed to be an awful lot of jungle and orange. "If I say 'dare,' are you going to make me put on leopord print?""I might.""If I take 'truth,' will you promise not to ask any more questions about Alex?""I will not.”

“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.”

“Do you have any friends who aren't Phillites?"He scowled at me. "I hate that word. I really hate it.""Why?" I asked, genuinely confused. I gestured around the room, with its leather furniture and slick electronics. "It fits.""So do Speedos, but I don't want to wear those, either." He stared at me through narrowed eyes. "Let's try this: You tell me something you actually like about me."I snuggled into his lap. "I like everything about you.""Except my friends and socioeconomic status."I looked up at him. "Are you mad?""No,Ella,I'm not mad."I wasn't entirely sure I believed him. He looked a little grim. I felt a tug of worry. "I like your mouth," I whispered, tracing his lips with my fingertip, coaxing them up at the corner. "Among many,many other things."The mouth was a good start. I especially liked what he did with it.So much that I didn't realize what his hands were doing until I felt cool air.”

“So,I'm curious." Alex dragged me from my pleasant contemplation of cowardice and back in the bathroom. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his feet almost touching mine. "What is it you like so much about this guy? I looked up his stuff. It's good, but nothing out of the ordinary."What a difference a week and a shock to the ideals makes. I felt my defense of Edward sticking a little in my troat. "I like his portraits. He really saw people.It was his great strength, that intensity."Alex tilted his chin toward the picture. "Not to seem crude, but she could be any girl with a nice ass." When I glared at him, he uncrossed his arms quickly and held up his hands in surrender. "Hey,all I mean is that if I were all about really seeing someone, that's not the angle I would choose."He was probably right. No matter how I looked at it, he was probably right. "You're probably right," I told him.He bowed. The small space suddenly got a lot smaller. "Stick with me, Grasshopper. I will never lead you wrong.”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with me.""Yeah?""Yeah." He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. For a second, he looked exactly like Daniel: cynical, bored, and liable to bite. "Well,that's funny," he drawled. "I think you're lying through your teeth."My stomach clenched. "Why?""Because," he said calmly, "in all the time I've known you,you have never once said those words.""What words?""'There is nothing wrong with me.'""Oh,don't-""Never. You are a walking litany of imaginary flaws.So." Frankie unfolded himself and rested his elbows on the table. It wobbled. He didn't. He studied me over his tented fingers. "Truth or Dare?""It's Sadie's turn to ask.""She passed," he snapped."Hey," I protested."Hey." Sadie actually waved a hand between us. "Maybe we can talk about this tomorrow.""We could," Frankie replied with suspicious agreeability. "Except I want to do it now. So,here's the question, Marino. What-""Dare.""Sorry?" he said."Dare. I'll take a dare/""Really?" he demanded."As long as it takes ten minutes or less. I have to go." All I wanted, really, was to leave.Frankie didn't say anything-or move-for the longest time. He just stared at me. Then, finally, he blinked, lowered his hands, and shrugged. "Sing.""Oh,come on-""Sing," he repeated. "You know how. Or concede."That, I thought, would be so easy. It would also break something precious. In all out time together, none of us had ever conceded a dare. "Sadie. Sing with me?"She nodded,but Frankie shook a finger at her. "You will not. Marino, you're on your own here."I pretty much stomped way may to the stage. Stavros's son Nic was manning the karaoke machine. His brows shot up when he saw me. "A first.”

“I kept my head down and my mouth full. I didn't want Frankie's sharp eyes or tongue focused on me any more than necessary. It was a lot easier with Daniel taking up half of the food and most of the air."What about it, Ella?" he asked when everything was gone except the parsley garnish. "When do we get the pleasure of your vocal stylings?""I don't sing.""You mean you won't sng," Sadie corrected. I tried to be charitable about her treason; she goes pretty brainless around Daniel. "Ella sings really well.""I'm sure she does." Daniel tipped his beer glass in my direction. "In fact, I bet she could totally murder 'Don't Stop Believin'." A song that is actually one of my guilty pleasures. I think he probably knew that. I think he probably had himself a lovely chuckle over it.Then he whispered, "Coward."In another story, the plucky little heroine would have slapped both hands onto the table, making it wobble a little on its predicatbly uneven fourth leg. She would then have taken both hands, ripped the long scarf from around her neck and, chin high and scar spotlit, stalked to the dais, leaped up, and slayed the audience with her kick-ass version of "Respect." Or maybe "Single Ladies," for the sheer Yay factor.In this version,I gave Daniel what I hoped was a slayer look and busied myself refolding my napkin.He was,not surprisingly, unfazed. "Can I ask you a question?"I sighed. "Will my answer to that one make any difference?""None whatsoever.""Fine," I grumbled. "Ask." I didn't have to answer.He wasn't my Hobbes."Why are there interstate highways in Hawaii?"I gaped at him. "That's your question?""Nope." He leaned back in his chair, propping one foot on the other knee. "That's a question. My question is this: What's the one thing you should ask yourself before getting involved with someone?""Seriously?""Do I look serious?"Maybe not serious, but vaguely deadly. Still,it was an interesting question, especially coming from Daniel Hobbes. I thought for a second. "'Will he make me happy?'""You think?" Daniel asked, the unfolded himself and got to his feet. "I'm outta here. Who's coming?”

“Okay.First things first. Three things you don't want me to know about you.""What?" I gaped at him."You're the one who says we don't know each other.So let's cut to the chase."Oh,but this was too easy:1. I am wearing my oldest, ugliest underwear.2.I think your girlfriend is evil and should be destroyed.3.I am a lying, larcenous creature who talks to dead people and thinks she should be your girlfriend once the aforementioned one is out of the picture.I figured that was just about everything. "I don't think so-""Doesn't have to be embarrassing or major," Alex interrupted me, "but it has to be something that costs a little to share." When I opened my mouth to object again, he pointed a long finger at the center of my chest. "You opened the box,Pandora.So sit."There was a funny-shaped velour chair near my knees. I sat. The chair promptly molded itself to my butt. I assumed that meant it was expensive, and not dangerous. Alex flopped onto the bed,settling on his side with his elbow bent and his head propped on his hand."Can't you go first?" I asked."You opened the box...""Okay,okay. I'm thinking."He gave me about thirty seconds. Then, "Time."I took a breath. "I'm on full scholarship to Willing." One thing Truth or Dare has taught me is that you can't be too proud and still expect to get anything valuable out of the process."Next.""I'm terrified of a lot things, including lightning, driving a stick shift, and swimming in the ocean."His expression didn't change at all. He just took in my answers. "Last one.""I am not telling you about my underwear," I muttered.He laughed. "I am sorry to hear that. Not even the color?"I wanted to scowl. I couldn't. "No.But I will tell you that I like anchovies on my pizza.""That's supposed to be consolation for withholding lingeries info?""Not my concern.But you tell me-is it something you would broadcast around the lunchroom?""Probably not," he agreed."Didn't think so." I settled back more deeply into my chair. It didn't escape my notice that, yet again, I was feeling very relaxed around this boy. Yet again, it didn't make me especially happy. "Your turn."I thought about my promise to Frankie. I quietly hoped Alex would tell me something to make me like him even a little less. He was ready. "I cried so much during my first time at camp that my parents had to come get me four days early."I never went to camp. It always seemed a little bit idyllic to me. "How old were you?""Six.Why?""Why?" I imagined a very small Alex in a Spider-Man shirt, cuddling the threadbare bunny now sitting on the shelf over his computer. I sighed. "Oh,no reason. Next.""I hated Titanic, The Notebook, and Twilight.""What did you think of Ten Things I Hate About You?""Hey," he snapped. "I didn't ask questions during your turn.""No,you didn't," I agreed pleasantly. "Anser,please.""Fine.I liked Ten Things. Satisfied?"No,actually. "Alex," I said sadly, "either you are mind-bogglingly clueless about what I wouldn't want to know, or your next revelation is going to be that you have an unpleasant reaction to kryptonite."He was looking at me like I'd spoken Swahili. "What are you talking about?"Just call me Lois. I shook my head. "Never mind. Carry on.""I have been known to dance in front of the mirror-" he cringed a little- "to 'Thriller.'"And there it was. Alex now knew that I was a penniless coward with a penchant for stinky fish.I knew he was officially adorable.He pushed himself up off his elbow and swung his legs around until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "And on that humiliating note, I will now make you translate bathroom words into French." He picked up a sheaf of papers from the floor. "I have these worksheets. They're great for the irregular verbs...”