Frank had by now learned to accept his Thursday routine: after the club meeting, he would wave good-bye to Juliet and make a mad dash to Mrs. Huang's classroom, where he'd breathe in cool air with the faintest tint of sesame oil to forget all about Juliet before a minute or two later, she knocked on the door. This was Mrs. Huang's signal to drop a heaping pile of worksheets on Frank's desk and disappear somewhere unknown, an occurrence which Juliet would typically remark on with some witticism like "Wow, I guess it's just the two of us" or "I wonder where she's going today." Juliet would then take the desk across from his and begin whatever that day's spectacle would be.

"What does it mean for someone to be attractive?" Juliet said airily after a few minutes, twirling a pen idly in her hand.

"I don't think there's one definition of that. Attractive to whom?"

"There are people like supermodels, you know, who are attractive to a lot of people, and you also get ugly people who nobody likes. What's up with that?"

"It's not in my nature to think of those things," Frank mumbled.

"Oh, I'm sure it is! Remember when we did that phrenology exercise to learn our personalities? You're an intellectual! Of course you must think of these things."

"I'll pose the question to you then, Juliet. Do you consider yourself attractive by whatever definition you're using?" Juliet giggled, her cheeks turning slightly flushed, and Frank became all the more sure that this was going to be another of those days.

"Well, my friends say I'm cute and all that, or at least some of my friends—John complimented me on my outfit the other day, which was kind of nice—but sometimes I doubt myself. I apologize for my sinful language, Frank, but sometimes I stare in my bathroom mirror and ask myself, 'am I hot or not?' My friends call me 'hot,' but they're just being polite, right?"

"Well, have you checked a thermometer?" Frank remarked with a grimace, hoping that a light serving of his usual wit would change the subject. Juliet's disappointed pout told him otherwise:

"Ha ha. This is a serious and very important conversation, no joking around here. So, Frank," Juliet continued with all appearances of solemnity, "do you agree with them?"

Frank surveyed the room, looking for hints that could guide the conversation closer to something good people talked about, but could find nothing but Juliet staring at him with her usual generic smile—was she leaning in slightly more closely than usual today? Was there some new honeyed timber in her voice that she was affecting? One time she had remarked "I'm p-p-paralyzed with happiness," just like Daisy, and let out a loud guffaw before patting him on the shoulder, delicately, and going back to grading papers in complete silence. Frank abided by his own advice, generally, in avoiding non-school related thoughts about his classmates; over time, he had come to the realization that nobody else did the same. And so Frank sometimes, still with great deliberation, chose to view his friends as something more than the masks they put on at school. Their openness scared him, Juliet's most of all.

"Walk me through their side of things. What makes them say that you're, uhh... hot?" Juliet's eyes widened, as if she had anticipated their conversation, and walked over to Frank's side of the desk. When after roughly thirty seconds of Frank staring at Juliet towering proudly over him, Frank did not flinch, Juliet sat down next to Frank and nudged him again. He turned toward her, who appeared remarkably the same, except closer.

"I'm so glad you asked! So you see, Frank, many would consider my clear skin, facial symmetry, classical proportions, tactful makeup, good physique, and composed outfits to be all attractive," Juliet explained, gesturing for emphasis as she talked.

"Isn't what matters on the inside?" Frank smiled, trying his hardest not to shrink into his chair.

"How could I possibly forget? Beyond that, of course people think I have a warm personality, a good sense of humor, and so on and so forth. So, what's your verdict?"

"Well, I think the answer is obvious."

"Which is?" Juliet prompted.

"Why, well, I..."

"I don't understand your hesitance here. It would mean a lot for my self-esteem, knowing someone like you thinks I'm presenting a good public persona every day. I see them judging me, you know, all the club people. They stare at me like I'm not one of them. It's just one compliment, please?"

"Given the persuasive argument you've made, I am forced to concur that you are attractive. Does that make you feel better?"

"See? That wasn't hard at all. I bet you thought that the entire time, you clever rascal, and wanted to test me a bit. Another of your lessons, you know. Isn't that right?" Frank nodded meekly.

"You got me."

"So while we're on that note, what sort of attractive are we talking here? Cute? Hot? Drop-dead gorgeous?"

"Well..."

Discussion Questions:

This story happens sometime junior year, before the club's grip on the school is solidified. Why might we be jumping back and forth in time?

Was Juliet ever this flirty with Frank in the past? Do you think it's really just about self-esteem?

Juliet's question of if she's "hot or not" is from a satirical article by Andy Borowitz, who's quoted in the chapter title; the article is free and the first result on Google for "borowitz hot or not" (Wattpad doesn't like links much). It's a hilarious article and a very short read. What similarities are there between the article and this chapter?