"Tony? I have to talk you." Francie approached the tall boy as he stood with a group of friends in a corner of the courtyard during lunch. Instead of eating with them, like she usually did, Francie had spent most of the lunch period lurking behind the lockers with Veronica and Tyler, peering out at Antonio from time to time to see if he'd changed locations.

"OMG, Francie, just do it and get it over with," Tyler had begged. "I can't enjoy my lunch until you do."

"Okay, but I want you to know that I have a perfectly good reason for not doing it," Francie had responded.

"Oh yeah? What is it?"

"I don't want to."

"Jesus, Francie, just go." This time it was Veronica who'd spoken, not unkindly. "Lunch is almost over, and you have to do it, you just have to. It's Tuesday already."

So here she was.

Antonio turned to her, a knowing grin on his face, not to mention most of his friends' faces.

Great. They thought she'd finally worked up her nerve to invite him to the dance.

"Francie! I haven't seen you all day!" Antonio embraced her in a warm hug before kissing her on both cheeks. "Sure, let's talk." He put an arm around her and led her away, giving his buddies a knowing look as he did so.

Francie smiled at him as they sat down on a planter.

Antonio took her hand, and after trying once to pull it away, Francie let him keep it.

"You look so beautiful today, Francie," Antonio said, lifting her hair over her shoulder.

"Thanks." Francie took a deep breath. "Man, this is so not how I was expecting this to go."

Antonio shook his head. "It doesn't matter how you had it planned. Just say the words, nothing else matters, truly." He smiled encouragingly.

"Okay. Here goes. Tony, I'm not going to invite you to the Sadie Hawkins dance."

"Of course I--" Antonio stopped in confusion. "What?"

"I'm not going to ask you to the Sadie Hawkins," Francie repeated, and this time Antonio did release her hand.

Francie rubbed her knuckles on her denim-clad thighs.

"Have you decided not to go?" Antonio asked, looking at her face.

Francie shook her head.

"So you're not going?"

"No. I mean I think I'm going," Francie said. "Just not with you. Okay?"

"Oh." Antonio looked down at his hands, then back at her. "Was it something I did? Something I said?" he asked softly.

Francie grasped one of his hands with her own. "No, nothing like that. You've been nothing but kind, and very patient. It's not really something I can explain. But I know you and all our friends have been expecting it, so I wanted to tell you, I thought you deserved to know that I wasn't going to ask you, that's all."

Antonio looked at Francie again. "May I ask whom you're going to invite?"

Francie smiled. "I'd rather not say, because he might not say yes, you know?"

Antonio shook his head and chuckled. "Who'd say 'no' to you, Francie Santangelo? Who would be that crazy?" He reached out and stroked her cheek. "So this is it for us? We'll just be strangers who pass in the halls?"

"Don't say that," Francie protested. "Can't we still be friends? We have so much fun together, don't we?"

"Of course we'll still be friends," Antonio agreed with a small smile. "I'd love that. You're a wonderful girl, Francie."

"What are you going to tell your friends?"

Antonio looked at her, still with that small smile. "Just what you told me. That you decided to invite someone else, but you wouldn't tell me who it was. Nothing but the truth, always." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Honesty is always the best way to go, always. Thank you for being honest with me, Francie."

He rose and walked back to where his friends were waiting just as the end of lunch bell rang. They all looked at him expectantly, and Francie saw their faces change, their expressions morphing almost comically from congratulatory to confused as they turned to walk to class. Some of them turned to look at her as she hurried back to where Tyler and Veronica were waiting.

"So? How did it go?"

Francie linked an arm through each of theirs as they hurried to class. "He was very nice, didn't make me feel horrible," she told them. "So the first of half of my plan has been executed. Now for the other half." She looked at each of them in turn. "I might just survive today, you guys, and not have a heart attack and die."

She went to her class, but asked her teacher if she could get a pass for the period to work on a project in the library. The teacher wrote out a pass without a murmur. Francie had been an exemplary student at the school her whole life, and was Clio Santangelo's sister besides. If she'd asked for a pass so she could leave the school and go on a day tour of the Empire State Building the results probably would've been the same.

She pocketed the pass and went to the south wing, to the orchestra room, where she'd seen Chester playing the Bach. She could hear the cello, playing Dvorák today, echoing through the hallway, making her feel like a heroine in a romantic Eastern European movie.

She quietly opened the door and slipped in, taking a seat close to the wall. Chester's eyes were closed as he played, his fingers creating the vibrato as his bow flew. His head leaned into the instrument, his expression intense, and Francie wondered what he was thinking about, or if he was thinking at all. He diminuendoed and ritardandoed as the piece ended, and as the last note died out, Francie began to clap.

Chester's eyes flew open as he jumped in his chair a little, bow lifting from the strings with a little screech.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't think of how else to let you know I was here," Francie apologized, rising from her seat and approaching him.

"It's okay, but what are you doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be in class?" Chester asked, carefully setting his cello in its stand and laying the bow aside.

Francie shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you, to ask you something," she admitted.

"And it couldn't wait until after school?"

Francie shook her head. "I didn't want to do it in front of other people. Plus, I didn't want to wait, either."

Chester wiped his hands on his pants and took a long drink from a water bottle. "Wow, sounds serious," he quipped with a smile, and Francie noticed for the first time that he had a shallow dimple on his left side.

How charming.

"So," he said in a 'let's get down to business' manner. "What can I do for you?"

"Well," Francie began, taking a seat next to him. "You know how the Sadie Hawkins is this Friday?"

Chester nodded. "I've seen the signs around the school, yes," he joked, making his dimple pop again.

Francie let her glance slide around the room. Her usual, bouncy, joie de vivre had completely deserted her, leaving her dry-mouthed and nervous. How did people do this? "So I've been wanting to ask someone, but I don't know if he'll say yes, and I'm kind of nervous to ask--"

"So you want me, as the resident tech geek, to help you?" Chester supplied helpfully. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Not a problem, though I don't know why you were afraid to ask me in front of other people." He gave Francie a playful shove. "This is kind of my specialty, I'll have you know. I've helped so many people ask people to dances. I've done light shows, dance mixes, even video montages--"

"No."

"No?" Chester looked at Francie in surprise, blinking his pale eyes. "You don't want my help asking someone to the dance?"

"No. I mean yes, I want to ask someone to the dance, but I don't want your help--"

"And did you say you're not sure he'll say yes?" Chester repeated. "Who'd say 'no' to you?"

Once again, being so close to him was making it difficult for Francie to concentrate. His pretty eyes were mesmerizing, with their long lashes and arched brows, especially when they were magnified behind his glasses. And that smell he had, of clean clothes and soap, that comforting fragrance that made Francie want to just hug him to death, was intoxicating.

"Chester Wozniak, could you stop talking for one cotton picking minute!" Francie begged.

"So you want to ask someone to the dance, and you're nervous, and you got out of class and came to see me--whoa. Whoa." Chester suddenly sat up in his chair as if he'd been poked with a cattle prod. "Francie, you want to ask me to the dance?"

Francie bit her lip, looked all around the room, looked back at Chester, and nodded.

"You really want me to go to the dance with you?"

"I swear to Thor, if you ask me if this is a joke--"

"I'd never ask you that, Francie, I know you well enough to know you'd never do that." He gestured toward his crutches. "Although asking someone who needs those just to walk to go to a dance is kind of a joke at some sort of cosmic level, isn't it?" He smiled, dimple popping.

"And what about Tony? Isn't he going to come looking for me with a machete or something?" Chester took his glasses off and cleaned them on the hem of his Hedwig and the Angry Inch sweatshirt, looking up at Francie as he did so. Francie realized that, even without his glasses, his eyes were lovely, his lashes curly and long, his eyes a clear, pale gray.

She shook her head. "No. I talked to him. We weren't dating or anything, but I thought he deserved an explanation, so I did do that. He was hurt, but he's cool."

"And this would be like a date?"

Francie snorted. "What the hell else would it be, you A-hole?"

"Nice manners," Chester noted drily.

Francie rolled her eyes. "Sorry. I mean, I don't drive yet, so I'd have a car come pick you up, and bring us here to the school, and we'd do the whole dancing thing, and we'd drink punch, and eat chips and little food that comes on toothpicks, and then we'd ride around the city for a bit, then I'd take you home." She shrugged.

"Unless you don't want to?"

Chester widened his eyes and looked at her owlishly as he replaced his glasses. "Are you joking? A chance to go out with Francie the--"

"Finish that sentence and lose some teeth, Mister," Francie interrupted, making a fist.

"Wow, this is so romantic, I don't know what to do," Chester said, grabbing her fist, unclenching her fingers and holding her hand. He put an arm around her, and Francie felt an actual flutter in her tummy, the flutter she'd yearned for all her life and never, ever felt until now.

In spite of the flutter, in spite of all the joking and smiling and general good vibes, however, Chester still seemed reticent.

"What is it? Has someone already asked you?" Francie questioned uncertainly.

"Oh, yeah, I get snatched up for all these dances like that," Chester responded, snapping his fingers with his arm still around her.

Francie let her breath out, though she was finding it hard to breathe with Chester's arm around her.

"In all seriousness, I have been asked to this dance, though," Chester told her, rubbing her shoulder, making the butterflies start to fly around in her tummy.

"You have?" Francie couldn't keep the disappointment from her voice.

"I have."

"By whom?"

"Jill Wyler."

"Oh."

"I told her 'no,'" Chester informed Francie with a straight face.

Francie looked at Chester's face which was so hard to do because it was so close to hers, it was making her entire body feel so strange. "Why didn't you lead with that?" she asked with a laugh. "Way to make a girl have a heart attack."

Chester smiled, but his voice was serious. "She's liked me since the sixth grade, you know?"

Francie nodded.

"She's an odd duck, but that doesn't mean I can minimize her feelings or treat her with disrespect," Chester continued. "She's been a good friend to me."

"I understand." Francie nodded again. "Do you feel like you shouldn't go with me? Because of her?"

Chester shook his head. "I can't not live my own life because of her, you know?"

Francie nodded yet again, but couldn't help her smile. "I'm so glad you feel that way. I don't want to hurt her feelings, but I like you, Chester, and I want to go to the dance with you."

"Well, in the interests of fair discovery or whatever it's called, I don't dance very well, I should tell you," Chester murmured, tracing her cheek with a finger, the same finger that had played the hell out of the Dvorák. He slid his other hand around her waist. Francie nearly trembled.

"So we'll only dance the slow ones," she responded softly, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against his.

"Okay."

"You going to kiss me?" she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

She felt him slowly shake his head.

"I think I'll save it for the dance, okay?"

"Okay."