Francie was dancing on a cloud. She was wearing a dress made of blue sparkles that floated around her and billowed out with every swish and swirl. Her fingernails were painted the same sparkly blue, and she knew that pretty sparkly earrings dangled from her ears, peeking out from her long, curly hair every time she twirled. A silhouetted orchestra played in perfect synchronized motion, violin bows rising and falling as one as a tuxedoed Mickey Mouse, resplendent in a bow tie, conducted from a raised box in the front.

She was dancing with her father, of course, as she always did in this particular dream, on an empty parqueted dance floor that went on and on. When she was little, he'd been carrying her in his arms as he smiled down at her, and as she'd grown older, her feet had been on the floor, shod in clear, crystal slippers á la Cinderella. She loved this dream, and always waltzed around the house, humming "So This Is Love" from the Disney classic whenever she dreamed it.

This time, however, when she looked up into the face of her dance partner, instead of seeing her beloved father's face, she was surprised to see the face of another holding her and spinning her gently around the beautiful dance floor. It shocked her to wakefulness, causing her to sit straight up in bed.

She must have made some kind of noise, because she awakened Clio, who was a fairly light sleeper.

"Francie? You okay?" Clio called from her bed. "Have a nightmare?"

"Not exactly."

Francie's voice sounded odd enough that Clio got out of bed and padded over to where Francie was still sitting up in hers. She sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. "What was it, then?"

"I had the 'dancing with dad' dream, you know?"

Clio nodded. She had the dream, too, except hers had a "Beauty and the Beast" theme.

"Only this time I wasn't dancing with dad." Francie's voice was quiet with shock.

"Antonio? Were you dancing with Tony?" Clio gave Francie an excited little shake. "Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something!"

But Francie was shaking her head. "No, it wasn't Tony."

"Oh my god, Francie, who was it?"

"Chester."

"Chester?"

Francie nodded slowly.

"Only in my dream he could walk. I mean, I don't know if he could walk, but he could dance like a motherfucker." She looked at her sister in the near darkness of her room. "What do you think it means?"

Clio shrugged. "Maybe it's just because you've been spending time with him? Between being partners with him in English and sitting with him before practice, and inviting him to dinner the other day and all that," she suggested.

Francie put a hand on Clio's arm. "You don't think I like Chester?"

Clio shrugged again. "He's really nice, and so smart. And he has gorgeous eyes, Francie pants." She nudged her sister's shoulder with her own. "Would it be so strange?"

"I guess not. But I thought I liked Tony?"

"Everyone's been telling you you like Tony, that's all. Who do you like? You said yourself you haven't felt the zing, right?"

Francie nodded slowly. "Right. No zing."

"Lie down, sorella mia, and go back to sleep," Clio suggested. "Maybe you'll have another dream and it will all be explained."

"Thanks a lot, you're so helpful," Francie complained as she lay back down obediently.

"I'm tired, and it's only two-thirty," Clio said, smothering a yawn. "I have a midterm tomorrow, I need sleep."

"Good night, Clio."

"Good night, Francie.

The next morning, Francie was back to her usual, cheerful, self.

"You feeling okay?" Clio asked her in the bathroom as they were brushing their teeth.

"Yes. Sorry I woke you."

Clio waved her apology away. "So you think you might like Chester?"

Francie shook her head. "No, that was just an aberrant dream, I think. I definitely like Antonio. And I'm definitely going to ask him to the Sadie Hawkins."

Clio nodded. "Okay, then. That's cleared up. Ask him soon, then, okay? We have to get you a dress and all that good stuff, right?"

Francie met her sister's eyes in the mirror. "Right. Oh, and good luck on your midterm."

"Thanks."

💕 ✨ 💕✨💕✨ 💕✨💕

But Francie didn't ask him that day. Nor did she ask him the next day, or the next. It got so she avoided the usual places where she'd see Antonio alone, because she felt pressure to ask him. And that Friday, she left her physics class and decided to walk another way to English, telling herself it had nothing to do with the fact that she was avoiding seeing Antonio because she was nervous about asking him to the Sadie Hawkins dance. She quickly turned down the south corridor and went through the music wing, even though it would take a bit longer. She knew it was getting down to the wire to ask him, and she was lucky that no one else had asked him yet, and that this was probably only because everyone was expecting her to.

She heard the deep tones of a cello coming from one of the music rooms and went on tiptoe to peek through the window in the door. She saw Chester, playing the Bach Cello Suite in G, so beautifully it made her toes tingle. She stayed until she heard the tardy bell, mesmerized, then ran all the way to English.

His performance stayed with her all afternoon. Of course, she knew he played the cello, but she'd never heard him as a solo performer before, only as a part of the orchestra. He'd told her that, because his father played the violin, he wanted to play a different instrument, because he didn't want to be compared. This made sense to Francie. If her father were as good as Chester's father, as world renowned, perhaps, she, too, would want to strike out on her own. Pete Santangelo was famous for his classical guitar skill, but he was known primarily as a singer, a rock star. Francie loved playing guitar with him, learning from him.

But Chester had a gift. His hands on the strings and bow had been lovely, his fingers long and capable. His confidence, his focus, were captivating, making him seem older than his years. And the fact that no one was even there to hear him didn't even seem to matter.

Wow.

Francie remained in a dreamlike state all afternoon, remembering his superb execution of the piece. It was Friday, so there was no swim practice, and Francie went straight home, again avoiding the whole should-she-ask-Tony thing that was hammering away at her brain.

"So, did you ask him?" Clio asked again that night when they were in bed. They were slumber partying, and Francie realized that, once Clio was married and gone, as was bound to happen some day, she would miss this activity dreadfully. Could she possibly make sleepover dates with Clio, even after she was married, and politely ask her husband to sleep elsewhere so she and Clio could still carry on slumber partying?

"No." Francie shook her head. "I got sidetracked. And, um, I didn't see him. Besides, I haven't had the dream again."

"So what? Francie, the dance is one week away!"

"The thing is, I'm kind of scared to ask him," Francie admitted.

"Why? You know he's going to say yes, right?"

Francie nodded.

"You were going to make a poster and flash it at him during swim practice, right? Get Chester to play some music or something?"

Again, Francie nodded.

"But?"

"But I don't know!"

"You know, Francie-pants, I hear frustration in your voice, but I don't hear fear," Clio commented, stroking her sister's blonde curls. "Why is that? You sure this isn't about the dream?"

"I don't know," Francie repeated.

"Could it be that maybe you don't want to ask him?" Clio guessed.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. Have you kissed him yet?"

Francie shook her head. "I can tell he wants to. He's kind of even tried a couple of times, but I turned my head at the last second and he ended up kissing my cheek instead."

"Why?" Clio was mystified.

"I don't know!" Francie said for the third time. "It just didn't feel like the right time or something."

"You like him, right?"

Francie shrugged.

"I thought I did. He's so handsome, and really nice, super sexy and everything."

"I hear a 'but' in there."

"Yeah, he has a nice butt," Francie joked.

"Francesca Dahlia," Clio groaned.

"Sorry, sorella mia," Francia apologized. "I'll figure it out. Let's get some sleep, we have Finn's Piano recital tomorrow."

"Good night, Francie, I love you."

"Anch' io."

Francie felt strange all weekend. She couldn't concentrate on anything, couldn't focus. This wasn't a normal state of affairs for her. She was normally happy and cheerful. At first, she couldn't figure out what the feeling was, and then she realized with shock that she was upset, she was worried about something, and that this was what other people felt like all the time.

How awful.

Francie worried about the dance all weekend. She worried during Finn's piano recital, where he blew the doors off of one of Bach's Partitas, and she worried all day Sunday, when she should've been getting her homework done. She barely slept at all, and couldn't really eat. Her whole family noticed, though only Clio knew the reason why.

Monday morning, Francie stayed after English to walk with Chester, merely waving to Antonio when she saw that he was waiting for her and telling him she'd see him at lunch. They had a ten minute break, and she usually spent it with him. He gave her a confused look, but walked away with a group of friends.

"Hey, Chester," Francie called, falling into step with him as he maneuvered his crutches into the hallway.

"Yeah? Did I forget something?"

"No no," Francie assured him, grabbing his backpack. "I just figured that, since we're both going in the same direction, we might as well go together, you know?"

Jill, who was waiting for him in the hallway, as usual, saw that Francie was with him and narrowed her eyes. "I usually carry his backpack for him," she announced, reaching for it.

"Oh, okay." Francie took it off her shoulder and leaned over to hand it to Jill, when Chester stopped her by lifting up a crutch and blocking her arm.

"It's fine, you've already got it," he said with a smile. "It doesn't matter who carries my backpack, does it?" He put his crutch down and continued walking.

Jill turned her look to Chester and hugged her books to her chest. "Fine, then," she finally said. Francie noticed how tall Jill was, how gawky, and wondered if it was hard for her to always be the tallest girl around.

"We usually sit out in the courtyard during the break, you want to sit with us?" Chester asked Francie.

"I wanted to go over some notes with you," Jill said, looking at Chester again.

"We still can, I just asked if she wanted to sit with us," Chester said easily. "Francie?"

"Sure," she answered with a smile. "I wanted to check over my physics before class, so it will be perfect."

They sat in the mellow spring sunshine, able to hear the sounds of New York City, but effectively having their view of the same blocked by the school buildings and the trees in the courtyard.

Jill had sat first, obviously thinking Chester would sit next to her, but Chester kept going to the other side of the table, gesturing for Francie to sit next to him, which she did. Jill and Chester checked over their notes while Francie went over her Physics, and the ten minutes went quickly.

When the bell rang, Jill quickly picked up Chester's backpack, and held out his crutches to him. "He has orchestra now," she declared to Francie.

"Oh, how nice," Francie said, rising as she put her physics book away. "I'll see you at practice, then, okay?"

"Sounds good," Chester said cheerfully. He brushed against Francie's arm as he rose, and that was when Francie felt it.

A zing.

It was just the tiniest bit, where his fingertips brushed against her forearm, but it was there.

Francie swallowed and sat back down.

"Francesca, you okay?"

Chester leaned over and looked at her face, and she could see his eyes, pale in the light of the courtyard, beautiful, like Clio said, with the dark, dark lashes.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just stood up too fast, you know? I'll just sit here for a sec, I'll be okay?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Chester took his crutches from Jill and thanked her as they prepared to leave.

"Bye, Francie," he said as he turned to go.

"Yeah, bye, Francie, sorry you're not feeling well," Jill echoed, sounding anything but.

"See you later," Francie said, gathering her things once more.

She needed to find Antonio and tell him why she couldn't ask him to the dance.

Pronto.