Francie noticed Chester looking at her and shaking his head as they were walking back to their table, a small smile playing about his mouth.

"What?" she asked.

"You're totally oblivious, aren't you?"

"To what?"

"To the way everyone's staring at you."

They reached their table, but Veronica and Tyler were gone, probably dancing to the fast number that was currently playing.

"Oh, Chester, no one's staring at me," Francie protested with a laugh as she picked up her drink.

"Oh Francie, they are," Chester mimicked. "You're beautiful, stunning, you're the most beautiful girl in the whole place, how could they not? Your hair, your smile, your legs, I mean, look at you."

"They're looking at my dress," Francie said with a grin. "It's really pretty, isn't it?" She took a deep breath and looked down at her lap before looking up at Chester once more. "I don't know what to say when you say things like that to me, you know? I mean, it's nice that other people think I look nice, but it doesn't mean anything, it's just the way I was born." She lifted her shoulders uncomfortably. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad people think I'm pretty, it certainly makes my life easier. I'd be sadif people thought I looked like five kinds of hammered shit or whatever the saying is--" her words made Chester laugh and shake his head "--but I'd hate to think no one would like me if if I did." Her voice had gotten soft.

"No worries, Francesca Dahlia Santangelo," Chester said, covering her hand with his own. "I would like you, just as much, no matter what you looked like, and you can take that to the bank, I promise."

"Thank you." And even in the dim, twinkling lights of the auditorium, Chester could see her blue eyes glowing. Francie turned her hand over on the table to clasp his hand.

"Well, aren't we cozy."

Francie looked up at the harshly spoken words.

"Hi, Jill." It was Chester who spoke, giving Francie's fingers a squeeze, but not releasing them. "You look really nice tonight."

"Yes, that's a lovely color on you," Francie echoed. Jill was wearing a pale green dress that accentuated how white her skin was, and came to a little past her knees. It was pretty, though she'd chosen for some reason to wear combat boots with it. They were not Francie's taste, but fashion was an individual thing, and good for her for going her own way, Francie supposed.

"I see you chose to dress like a teenaged whore," Jill said to Francie in a conversational tone. "Not a choice I'd make, but you've managed to pull it off, Francie, so good for you, good for you."

Francie looked at her with wide eyes, but Chester spoke before she could even open her mouth.

"Just a minute, Jill. Francie is my friend, and I'm here as her date, so you can't come over here as my friend and insult her in front of me and expect me to remain quiet." Chester's voice was calm, but firm. "Please don't bother to apologize unless it's sincere, but you must leave immediately."

Jill looked at Chester. "Is this how it's going to be, Chester? I've been your friend since we were eight years old! I've been by your side through absolutely everything, but the minute--no--the second someone better comes along you just drop me like I'm hot garbage?"

Chester looked at Jill with real compassion. "No. Jill, no. We're still friends. You're one of the best friends I've ever had, you must know that."

By now Tyler and Veronica had returned to the table, and people at the nearby tables had stopped talking and had turned to look at what was going on, as had people on the dance floor. Some were even smiling and recording what was happening, much to Francie's dismay.

"Then why did you turn me down when I asked you to the dance?" Jill was already crying, and Francie felt awful for her. Jill's large eyes looked even larger behind her glasses, and her chin was trembling as she spoke. She hugged herself, and Robbie Decatur, who must be her date for tonight, hovered behind her, unsure of what to do. Bony shoulders shook as she spoke, posture hunched as if waiting for an invisible blow, and it was all being recorded.

Chester looked around at all of the cameras pointed their way, and suggested, "Why don't we go outside and talk, okay?" He rose and reached for his crutches, but Jill shook her head. Her nose was starting to run, and she wiped it with the back of her hand.

Francie covered her face with her hands, not knowing what to do.

Chester sighed and put an arm around Francie. "This isn't your fault," he murmured to her before turning back to Jill. "I said no to you before Francie asked me, I want you to know," he said gently to Jill, pulling her down to sit next to him.

She sat, gingerly and rather unwillingly, on the edge of the chair, as if unsure if it would bear her weight.

"Why?" It came out almost like a soft wail.

"I didn't want to encourage you," Chester told her, striving to keep his voice soft also, hoping none of it could be picked up by the nosy people with the camera phones. "Honestly, Jill, we should have this conversation somewhere else, where there aren't so many people watching or listening, don't you think?"

But Jill shook her head determinedly. "I haven't done anything to be ashamed of, I don't care."

Chester sighed again, looking at Francie, who still had her face covered.

"Oh, I see, you're trying to protect her, not me," Jill said. Then his words hit her. "You didn't want to encourage me?" she repeated. "Like lead me on?" Her tearful face was a portrait in agony. "Wow, I guess I should be thanking you, huh?" She looked around for a napkin and blew her nose vigorously.

She looked at Chester, her eyes filling with fresh tears. She leaned forward, grasping his forearm. "You know I love you? You know that, right?"

"Jill, you think you love me," Chester said patiently. "You don't, though, not really."

Francie sat up and looked at Chester.

No.

"Chester, you can't minimize her feelings like that," she said firmly. "You just can't." She, too, kept her voice down, thinking on one level how surreal it was that this conversation was happening in the middle of three hundred people at a dance, of all places. "Only she knows her heart." Francie looked at Jill, who was shuddering as she sniffed. "I understand how you feel," she said, her features eloquent with sympathy.

Jill looked from Chester to Francie, eyes narrowing.

"Don't you dare!" she hissed. She sniffed and sat back, releasing Chester's arm. "Don't you dare sit there with your five hundred dollar dress and your perfect body and perfect legs and perfect face and hair to die for and pity me, you--you--trollop, you!" She leaned toward Francie, fists on hips, and continued. "You have everything, you've had everything, your whole life, and you have the unmitigated temerity to feel sorry for me? You could've had any guy in the whole school, probably the whole city, but no, you have to go after mine, my Chester." She huffed out air through her nostrils. "Why don't you go chase some cretin athlete who looks like you, someone as good looking and shallow and simple minded and conceited? Then you can sit around and compliment each other on how beautiful you both are? And produce some equally dimwitted offspring? And please leave Chester for me?" she pleaded.

Robbie Decatur, whom Francie knew vaguely, finally put a firm hand on Jill's shoulder. "Come on, Jilly," he said. "Let's get you home."

Jill looked around, as if finally realizing where she was, and rose, swallowing and wiping her nose. She let Robbie lead her away without another word.

Slowly, the people around them put their cameras away, and went back to dancing and chatting to each other. It was as if nothing ever happened.

Veronica looked at Francie with sympathy. "You okay?" she asked.

Francie took a deep breath. "I will be, just give me a few minutes," she said.

"Oh my god, Francie, I'm so sorry," Chester said, wiping his eyes with his hand. "I had no idea she would do something like that, I swear, or I never would've come here without talking to her first." He looked at her. "I'm so, so sorry," he repeated.

Francie shook her head. "It's not your fault," she assured him. "Poor Jill, though," she added. "To feel so much for someone who doesn't return your feelings, can you imagine?"

"Wouldn't want to be her on Monday," Tyler observed.

Francie nodded agreement.

"Hey, how about we blow this taco stand? Chester suggested. "I'm not really in a 'school dance' kind of place anymore, you know?"

"Yeah, and taco stand just reminded me how hungry I am," Francie said with a smile. "Let's go find some place to stuff our faces, what do you say?"

Tyler and Veronica were in favor of this, so they collected their things and vacated the premises, piling into the car driven by Adam. Francie turned to her friends. "So here's the deal," she began with a grin. "I know we'd talked about finding a diner somewhere, and I'm fine with that honest, but I know a little Italian place that's really nice, and the thing is, my dad knows the owner, and he'll seat us, even though it's kinda late. My dad talked to him, and he said he'd take us any time up to eleven, and it's only ten twenty, so we can go there, my treat, if you want?" She looked around expectantly.

"Free Italian or a diner that I pay for?" Chester asked rhetorically. "That's not even a question in my book." He looked at the other two, who were nodding enthusiastically, so they went to La Cucina Allegra, owned by Signore Campogalliani, who was delighted to see them, especially Signorina Francesca, whom he kissed on both cheeks, over and over.

"You so big, how this happen?" he asked over and over. He tried to speak English to her for the benefit of the other three, but sometimes he'd forget and release an absolute torrent of Italian, which Francie, to the amazement of the others, somehow understood and responded to in absolutely fluent Italian.

"What a fun place," Chester enthused. "I love little places like this, you know, candles, checked table clothes, and tons of good food? I was afraid it was going to be fancy and snooty."

Francie shook her head. "Nope, this is home cooking all the way."

So the foursome enjoyed figs wrapped in ham, pasta in vodka sauce, pumpkin ravioli, and fresh beet and goat cheese salad, eating until, as Tyler put it, he thought he was 'going to bust.'" Signore Campogalliani even poured each of them a half glass of wine while ostentatiously putting a finger to his lips and telling them not to tell their parents and winking.

"Oh, thank you so much for the delicious meal," Francie said while hugging him when they were getting ready to leave. "It was wonderful, and we had so much fun. We'll never forget it!"

"Ah, Francesca, everyone should remember her first dance, I'm so happy to be part of it," he assured her, kissing her again. This time he kissed everyone in the party, telling all of them they were his famiglia now.

So they dropped off first Veronica and Tyler (Tyler was sleeping over at Veronica's, where they were going to watch a scary movie), and then they were already at Chester's apartment, somehow, and the part of the night that Francie had been looking forward to and dreading at the same time was upon them.

"Francie?" Chester, who had been holding her hand pretty much all night, squeezed her fingers.

"Yeah?" Major butterflies.

"I'm going to kiss you in the car, okay? It's easier if I'm not standing up, you know?"

"Okay." Please don't throw up, Francie.

Chester turned toward her, and Francie was suddenly glad that Tyler had raised the privacy screen between them and Adam when they first got in the car, because it would've been so awkward if she'd had to do it now. She didn't think she could've done it, actually.

Chester let out a quick breath and smiled, looking beyond Francie to the street for a second.

"What?" Francie asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I'm just a little nervous."

"You are?"

"Of course. First time for you, first time for me."

"It is?"

"Yes!"

"Oh."

Chester leaned his forehead against Francie's, sliding one arm around her waist and pulling himself a little closer.

"Would it be easier if I, uh, sat on you, or would that be too weird?" Francie asked. "Never mind, that would be weird, hunh?"

"No, no, let's see," Chester agreed. Then, to Francie's surprise, he lifted her onto his lap, while Francie simultaneously tried to sit on him and keep her legs together, something which really couldn't be done. She settled for trying to keep her dress from riding too far up her thighs, which she just about managed.

"Oh, man, um, Francie, that's just sexy as hell," Chester said, slipping his arm around her waist again. "I'll try not to look down, okay?" he said, swallowing. "Too much," he added with a grin.

Francie nodded, biting her lips together. She was starting to feel decidedly strange from being so close to Chester, to the scent of him, to so many different parts of him touching her.

She leaned closer.

He sat up as far as he could and leaned in, spreading his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest along her jaw as he put his mouth softly on hers. He let his thumb touch her chin.

Francie sighed at the feel of his lips touching hers for the first time. They felt warm, soft yet firm at the same time. They came and went, and she didn't know when it would happen, as her eyes were closed.

She wrapped one arm around his neck, feeling his hair right at the collar of his shirt, and put her other hand on his chest, where she could feel the thumping of his heart.

Was she doing it right?

Chester wasn't stopping so she must be.

Then she felt something wet, as he was gently swiping along her lips with his tongue, as though asking her to open up as he pulled slightly on her chin with his thumb.

So she did, and he licked along her lips, and this made the butterflies in her tummy start to zoom around.

Francie let out a little sigh and settled into his lap, leaning into his body a little bit, and he lowered his hand to her back, pulling her even closer.

"Oh god, Francie," Chester murmured into her mouth.

She reached with her tongue a little, feeling the soft warmth of his with hers, and she felt like her stomach actually might have flipped over from all the zinging and zooming going on.

Then Chester was releasing her, reluctantly, stroking her cheek and pulling back as she did the same.

She lifted her leg over him, careful to hold her dress as she took her place next to him, smiling at what was already becoming a memory, the memory of her first kiss.

Chester sighed and turned his head to look at her, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek once more.

"Well, I guess I'd better get inside," he said.

"Yeah, I guess you'd better," she agreed.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," he repeated.

"Hush, it wasn't your fault, and imagine how much worse it's going to be for her."

Chester nodded and gathered his crutches as he opened the door.

"You want me to walk you up?" Francie offered.

Chester shook his head. "I want time to be alone and think about you in the elevator," he confessed. "You can roll the window down, though, so I can kiss you one more time?"

Francie obliged, and he did, a quick one, though just as soft and gentle as the first.

"Good night, Francie, talk to you tomorrow."

Good night, Chester."