I got to school the next morning, and met up with Cass. Everything seemed fine, she was her normal self. We went to the entrance, got undressed, and went inside.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

We walked in, and noticed people huddled in knots at various points along the corridor. We went to one of them, and took a look. People were looking at something that had been hung up on the walls.

GodDAMMIT!

Someone had gotten a camera. Somehow, they had taken a picture of Cassie—not all of her, just from the bottom of her breasts to her knees. Yeah, in other words, the scarred area. They had copied this picture and had hung it up all along the walls—each one with a ‘clever’ caption. One said, "Get the new Cassie Vyshenko road map!" Another one said, "Play connect the dots on Cassie’s stomach!" And one—the cruelest one—said, "Windshield one, Cassie zero!"

It was horrible. And poor Cassie turned white, and then started bawling. She was crying out in the middle of the halls—the crowded halls, remember—while these horrible pictures of her were hanging all over the place. Everyone was looking at her. I put my arm around her and she cried on my shoulder.

"We need to go see Mr. Tilling," I said. She sniffled and nodded.

We got there, and walked in. "Cassie? What’s wrong?" he asked when he saw her crying.

"Mr. Tilling, have you walked the halls this morning?" I asked him.

"No, not yet."

"You might want to do so. We’ll wait here. That’s better than explaining." He looked at me, and then walked out of his office. I cuddled Cassie against me and let her cry it out. She was starting to settle down when Mr. Tilling walked back into the office, a pile of the pictures in his hand, and a furious look on his face.

"Cassie, I’m sorry this happened. Believe me, we will find out who did this and they will be punished."

"Oh, we know who did it," I said, "We just can’t prove it."

Cassie nodded, and said, "Missy Jenkins and Laura Elliot. There’s no doubt in my mind. They’ve been cruel about this all week."

"I thought they were your best friends," Mr. Tilling said.

"Yeah, so did I," Cassie said. "But they’re not. Not after the last two days. They’ve said some horrible things to me."

"And I went after them, in defense of Cassie, on Monday," I added. "This is their idea of revenge, I have no doubt. I’d bet my spot on the baseball team that it was them."

"Well, then that’s where will at least start the investigation," said Mr. Tilling. "Cassie, are you all right?"

"No, I’m not," she said, and took a deep breath. "Mr. Tilling, I’d like to ask a favor." Another deep breath. "I’d like for you to go to the box outside and get my clothes, please."

I looked at her in shock. Mr. Tilling was pretty surprised himself. "Cassandra, are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah. I can’t do this anymore."

"All right. Be right back."

He left, and I turned to her. "Cassie, I think you’re making a mistake."

"Easy for you to say," she snorted.

"No, it’s not. I saw those pictures, too. And I can’t help feel partially responsible because of how I ripped into them. But you can’t let them win, Cass."

"Dammit, Frankie, this isn’t a baseball game! This is my life! I’m a freak. I’m deformed, as one of them said yesterday. I walk around the halls and people look at me like I’m a monster."

"But I thought that was getting better," I argued. "It looked like you were getting more attention in the halls late yesterday, at least when I saw you."

"Well, a little," she admitted.

"People are getting used to it. I think some people are deciding it doesn’t detract from the rest of you. It’s just a few people, Cassie. I told you before, I think you’re beautiful."

She smiled sadly at me. "Frankie, I appreciate it, but let’s face it—it’s easier for you to say that. We’re friends, and you’re also my Program partner."

"Being friends does not make it easier. Are you kidding me?" I didn’t mean to say it, it just came out. "Dammit, Cassie, it would be easier if we weren’t friends. Because, if we weren’t, I could do what I really want to do every time I see you naked—ask you if you’ll come in the woods with me and let me fuck your brains out. Fuck, I haven’t been touched at all today and I have a raging hard on! Where do you think I got it? More to the point, who do you think gave it to me? The gorgeous naked chick next to me, that’s who."

Oh, shit. Did I really say all that? It was out before I could stop myself. Take can of worms, open, and spill all over the floor. And she was looking at me in complete shock.

"Shit, now I’ve said too much. Forget all that. But, please, drop this ‘it’s only because you’re my friend’ crap, OK?"

"OK," she said with a little smile. Just then, Mr. Tilling came back into his office. "I’m sorry, Mr. Tilling, but I’ve changed my mind." She grinned. "Frankie convinced me to stay in The Program."

"Good for Frankie. I’ll put your clothes back in the box later on. Now, get to class, would you? You’re already late for first period. And, don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of those pictures.

We thanked him, and took off.

Well, at least my diatribe helped her. I wasn’t feeling too great, myself. Oh, man, I did not want to tell her that!

Ah, well, I couldn’t take it back now. And it wasn’t a lie. If we weren’t friends, I would’ve killed to get her in bed. But we were friends. And, as I said, that just didn’t work.

Damn.

I couldn’t believe the pictures. I just couldn’t. I knew Missy and Laura did it. I didn’t think they were capable of such cruelty. It was horrible.

I really did want to just end it. Cover me back up, let me hide my little problem again. Of course, it was too late for that, anyhow. Everyone had seen the scars. And what Frankie said, about it getting better, it was true. It was just a few that were giving me a hard time.

I remembered what we had talked about in psychology on Monday—how unexpected visual stimulus can cause a kind of disorienting effect, I think the teacher called it. In other words, most people weren’t shocked by the scars—but they were surprised, a lot, and it took them time to deal with the surprise. As Frankie calmed me down, I remembered that.

And then Frankie dropped the bomb on me—and I forgot all about my scars and former best friends and nasty pictures.

My first reaction? Oh, I admit it. HE WANTS ME! HE WANTS ME!

But my second reaction was more subdued. We walked to our first period classes together as long as we could before we had to go in opposite directions, and not much was said. I thought about it my first two periods. I thought more after second period, when I was walking with Lily Woodard.

"So, I hear you got the handjob of your life from Frankie yesterday, eh?" she teased.

"Pretty much," I grinned.

"Anything else going on?"

"No, just that," I admitted. "It was an act of mercy more than anything else," I giggled. Well, I thought so at the time. After what Frankie said today…. But I wasn’t going to tell Lily that!

"You guys are just friends, right?" she asked. I nodded. "Do me a favor, OK? Be careful. Frankie’s a complete romantic. I know that’s not obvious, but he is—since I’m safe, because I’m in love with one of his best friends, he tells me things. I understand, last year, he had sex with Renee Boddicker. Up until that point, they were the best of friends. Frankie wanted more than friendship. Renee wanted friendship with the odd bout of sex. And I know he’s had a couple other close friends that would’ve taken him to bed but drew the line at anything emotional. Like I said, he’s a complete romantic. Friends with ‘benefits’ isn’t his style."

That gave me a lot to think about—because friends with ‘benefits’ wasn’t my style, either. But there was no denying the fact that I wanted him. And he couldn’t deny, after this morning, that he wanted me.

We sat next to each other in History, as usual, and I thought about it. I thought about a way where we could hook up and not lose our friendship.

The problem was, I was denying the obvious, which became quickly apparent next period, in art.

Having had us pose individually, Mrs. Taylor decided the time had come for both of us to pose. "These will be innocent, don’t worry. They’d be completely innocent if you guys weren’t naked." We both laughed at that. Anyhow, she first got us on the couch. She had us sit next to each other, Frankie to my left. Then she had me twist slightly to my left, so that I was partially facing him. My left leg was bent, on the couch, and my right leg hanging down onto the ground. She had Frankie put his arm around my waist, and had me put both of my hands, one halfway on top of the other, on his right leg. Then she had us look at each other. With the difference in our heights, he was looking slightly down, and I was looking slightly up. We were grinning at one another.

It was very cozy, but completely innocent, right? Well, except Natalie shouted out, "Oh, I love that. It’s so cute. It looks like they’re about to kiss."

Don’t I wish! That’s what ran through my mind. Oh, God, I wish he’d kiss me. And that scared me. Wanting him to fuck me? That was one thing. That was lust, pure and simple. But wishing he’d kiss me silly? That was something entirely different.

That’s when it hit me, like a ton of bricks. I was in love with him.

Oh, Jesus Christ, I was in love with Frankie Gutierrez.

I must be insane. If I were still talking to the two hyenas, they’d be the first to point out that Frankie was not my type. And, judging by my past dating history, they’d be right. I didn’t date sweet guys like Frankie. I dated guys with a hint of danger. I wanted excitement.

Frankie was safe. But he was warm and comforting. Sitting in this pose, as fairly innocent as it was, I felt so good. And excitement had bitten me in the ass more than a few times. Maybe I was just growing up—or maybe I had just realized what I really wanted. I don’t know. What I did know is that Frankie treated me like a princess. Not just helping me through The Program—he’d always treated me like a princess.

Why hadn’t I seen that before? I didn’t know. Maybe it was the chemistry thing. I’d loved Frankie for six years. Platonically, yes, but I’d loved him all the same. Maybe I just hadn’t felt any chemistry. Well, I was wrong about that. At least from my end, it’d been crackling for two days now.

That became even more apparent when we changed poses. She had us get in dance position. Standing up, facing one another, his arms around my waist, my arms around his neck. That was a little less innocent—what with his dick rubbing up against my stomach and my titties rubbing up against him! And that’s when I felt it—the combination. Love and lust. Oh, man, I wanted him. I wanted all of him.

What to do about it was the question. Because I knew he felt the lust—but didn’t know what else he felt.

I walked out of art with my head spinning.

She had spent the whole class looking at me in complete adoration. Posed, yes, but the look on her face wasn’t posed. And if I doubted my own eyesight, all I had to do was check out Natalie’s drawings. Nat sees things that nobody else does, and knows how to put them on paper. And, if anything, Natalie’s drawings showed the look in Cassie’s eyes even moreso.

We went to lunch. We didn’t say a word to each other on the way.

At lunch, we sat with the gang. Jared greeted Cassie when she sat down. "Cassie, I’m sorry about those pictures."

"Well, I didn’t think you did it, so you don’t have anything to be sorry about," she grinned at him.

"How are you holding up?" Amanda asked.

"OK, I suppose," she said. "I actually almost got out of the program because of it." She grinned and pointed at me. "Then my knight in shining armor over here gave me a pep talk, and I felt better."

"Do you know who did it?" Ty asked.

"Missy and Laura. No doubt in my mind," Cassie said. "Mr. Tilling now just has to prove it."

"Nice best friends," Maggie snorted.

"Not anymore," Cassie said. "I’ve seen the light."

"Good," Maggie replied. "We’re much more fun, anyhow."

"Yes, we are," Ed said. "When we tease you for physical deformities, we do it with much more wit and style. Nobody even superimposed a map of Brazil on your stomach in any of those photos. No creativity at all." We all laughed at that, even Cassie.

"Yeah, but I’m the only one with physical deformities to tease," she said.

"Are you kidding?" Maggie laughed. "Let’s see, we have Jared’s gargantuan dick. Amanda’s little tummy rolls. Natalie’s freakishly large tits." Everyone was laughing at this. "Ed’s beanpole figure. Mike’s hairy ass. Lily’s manly throwing arm and her rock-hard gluteus. Ty’s steroid-like biceps. And all of Frankie."

"Thanks, Maggie, thanks a whole lot," I said. "But you left yourself out."

"With Maggie," Ed said, "it’s that freakish pussy without the ‘off’ switch. Drip, drip, drip. All day long. That’s one girl who’ll never get lost in the woods—she just has to follow the trail of spooge."

"Thank you, thank you very much," Maggie said, bowing. "Although I would’ve been a little less crude and pointed out my untamable mop of hair. And my nonexistent bustline."

"You, a little less crude?" Ed laughed. "Since when?"

After lunch, the afternoon progressed, I saw Cassie in last period with not much said, and then I went to the ball field for our game.

I was sitting in the locker room talking with Lily. She was getting dressed—I didn’t have to. Lily’s not like most pitchers. Most pitchers—me included—go into a private little "zone" before they pitched. Lily didn’t—in fact, she found that counterproductive for her. She liked to talk.

"What’s going on with you and Cassie?" she asked.

"Now that, Pedro, is one hell of a question." Pedro was her ‘baseball’ nickname—after her idol, Pedro Martinez, the great pitcher for the Boston Red Sox.

"I know about what happened yesterday," she said, "and I also had a little talk with her."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I warned her to be careful not to break your poor over-romantic heart," she grinned.

"Well, I gave her quite the opening to do just that." I told Lily what I had said to Cassie in Mr. Tilling’s office.

"Well, jeez, Frankie, that’s an invitation if I ever heard one."

"Yeah. It was what happened in art that was really weird." I described the poses, and how she was looking at me.

"You sure you didn’t misinterpret that?" she asked.

"Well, if I did—so did Natalie. You should’ve seen her drawings."

"Oh, well, then. If Natalie Weinberg sees it, and draws it, then it’s there," she said. I nodded agreement. "But was it lust—or something else?"

"That’s another fine question."

"Maybe you ought to find out."

"And maybe I should just let sleeping dogs lie before I fuck up another friendship," I said.

"Friendships are fine. Love’s better."

"Easy for you to say, Pedro," I told her. "You met Mikey on a Monday, you’re fucking like bunnies on Wednesday, and you’re proclaiming everlasting love on Friday. I’ve known this girl for six years!"

"Have you ever felt anything more than friendship for her?" she asked.

"Yes. No. I don’t know." I sighed. "Look, we met when we were, what, ten? Like usually happens, she matured faster than I did, and started dating before I did. Once I realized what this mysterious thing called ‘girls’ was, and decided that I liked ‘em, Cass had already had a few boyfriends. And they were so unlike me that I didn’t think I’d ever be on her radar screen. I’m not her type. So any feelings other than friendship were killed before they ever happened. I love her, I’ll say that—but it’s platonic. She never gave me a reason, based on her usual boyfriend choices, to entertain the possibility of anything different."

"People change," she said simply.

"That much? Come on."

She laughed. "Frankie, if you’d like, I’ll take you up to Boston and introduce you to some of the complete weenies I spent three years dating, and sleeping with. It wasn’t until I met Mikey that I decided to wake up and smell the pine tar."

"Well, yeah. You met Mikey. What would’ve happened if you had already known him—as friends—for six years?"

"I think it still would’ve happened," she maintained. "I was not ready for Mikey before this—however, I don’t think I would’ve been stupid enough to pass it up just because I had already known him. In fact, it might have happened earlier." She looked at me. "Has Cassie had a disaster relationship?"

"Yeah. Nick, her boyfriend most of last year. He was a complete asshole—to the point where he found out about her scars and made her hide them when they were in bed. And the jerk she was dating that just broke up with her didn’t help—though that one barely got started."

"Let me tell you something," she said. "I had one last year, sophomore school year, I mean. We went out all winter, but he freaked when he saw me in full baseball gear—and broke up with me. Being a bit of a butch, and playing baseball, isn’t the same thing as scars—but it’s similar in that it’s something that will turn people off. And who it turns off is the wrong people. My ex was an asshole, just like Nick was to Cassie. A girl can only be blind for so long. I got my slap in the face. Maybe Cassie did, too."

I couldn’t say anything after that, because Coach came in to talk to us.

Luckily, baseball was my refuge. I didn’t have to think about anything else for a couple of hours. That was easier when I was pitching, of course, but I did have to stay alert in center field. Especially when I had to dive after a rocket that some guy hit. Lily didn’t give up too many rockets, but she gave one up today. I dove for it. In the nude. Not quite the same as sliding into home—grass is more forgiving than dirt and sand—but not an experience I’d care to repeat.

"Lose the rockets to right-center, would you please?" I teased Lily on the way into the dugout.

"Sorry," she giggled.

"Grass stains on your boobies, dirt on your dick," Ty sang.

"Boobies? I’ve got the world’s first boobies that are concave," I laughed.

"You need to grow some man tits," Ty said.

"Sure. Can I borrow some of your steroids, musclehead?"

Like I said, Ty and I get on each other all day long.

Anyhow, the game progressed fine, we were winning. When I came off the field in the middle of the seventh, Lily was waiting for me on the third base line.

"Hey, Frankie, don’t look now, but Cassie just showed up."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She’s sitting with Jared and Amanda." I looked up, and she waved. Hmmm. She didn’t come to too many ball games.

It’s such a cliché, I know. It really is. But I was up third that inning, and Ty and Ed both got on base—and I hit a three-run homer. My first dinger of the season. I just had to laugh. Especially since Lily teased me about it. "Frankie gets inspiration!" and all that. Well, Cassie was going nuts in the stands after I hit it—that was cool.

The game finished, we won, I waved to her, she waved back, and I went into the locker room. Heard the coach speak, took my shower, went back out to the field. There she was, still sitting there, still naked.

"Hi," I said as I walked up to her.

"Hi. Walk me home."

OK, I thought to myself. I started to put on my clothes.

"No. Stay the way you are. I am, too."

"Huh?" I said. "Weren’t you the one that wanted to put your clothes back on in school this morning?"

"I changed my mind. Look, I don’t feel self-conscious around you."

"Yeah, but you’re going to be parading naked for a half-mile to your house."

"That doesn’t matter," she said. "Let’s go." She got out of the stands and started walking to the exit. I shrugged and followed.

We walked, pretty much in silence, to her house. Something was going on, but I didn’t know what. When we got to her house—which was before mine walking from school—before I could say a word, she grabbed me and pulled me to her door.

"Cass, where are we going?"

"In my house."

"Like this?" I said, looking down at our nudity.

"Nobody’s home. Come on." I did. We went in, and she didn’t even stop—she dropped her bookbag and clothes, and just steered me up the stairs to her room.

When we got there, I said, "Cassie. What the hell is going on?"

She turned to me, and looked right at me, and said, "This morning, you told me you wanted to fuck my brains out." She took a breath. "Do it!"

Every rational thought drained right out of my head. And all I could think to say was, "WHAT?"

"You heard me," she hissed. "Damn, Frankie, please don’t make me beg!"

I had never seen her look like that. I had never seen any girl look like that—certainly not at me. Fire was coming out of her eyes, and she was practically shaking.

I knew I was going to regret this. I knew it, I knew it. But that was my rational thoughts—and those were just a dull roar at this point. God, I wanted her—and she wanted me.

That was something, right?

Repercussions could wait. I tackled her onto the bed.

The idea had been brewing in me all afternoon. I knew he felt lust, right? So, let’s work on that part first. Get him into bed, and take it from there. Of course, the fact that I was practically burning with lust was a given. I wanted him so bad I could taste it. So, after band practice, I went to the game—fully intending on doing what I did.

In retrospect, this probably wasn’t the best way of handling it.

However, at first, it seemed like a perfectly awesome way of handling it. Before I knew it, I was sprawled on the bed, his hands all over me. He leaned down and kissed me. Man did he kiss me! It was as wonderful as I had anticipated. We did some serious making out while his hands roamed all over my boobs and—thank you God—my pussy. Oh, man, it was as good as yesterday. I almost came again from just that—but I wasn’t in the mood for a whole lot of foreplay.

"Frankie, please, fuck me now!" I said.

"You’re protected, yes?"

"Of course," I said.

He grinned down and me, and started lining his dick up with my pussy. He started sliding it in oh so slowly. The anticipation was killing me. I tried to hump myself on him to make it quicker, but he was having none of that. Finally, he was all the way in. Then he started moving, in and out, slowly.

Too slowly, I thought at first, but I was wrong. Oh man. I wasn’t used to this. He was so gentle. I had mostly gone out with guys who just rammed it in. I thought I liked it that way. I was wrong. He had me hovering right on the edge for so long. It was delicious. He looked down at me, grinned, and started kissing my forehead. After a bit, he looked into my eyes, and, without either of us saying anything, he started to move faster.

Jesus Christ! I felt it building, and building, as he picked up his pace little by little. And then I went. "Oh, God, FRANKIE!" I screamed, and came like gangbusters. When he felt me go, he started going full-bore into me, keeping me riding the waves for a full minute. Then he came into me.

Oh my fucking head. It was….incredible. I’d never felt anything like that. I felt like a wet dishrag. I was completely spent, and my brain was mush.

Which is the only thing that explains what happened next. We ended up cuddling, side-by-side on my bed, as we both came down. I could tell that, now that we were done, he felt awkward. He was holding me, but he wasn’t looking at me.

There were things I needed to say. "I don’t want to just be friends anymore," or "This could be the start of something beautiful," or even a simple "I love you." Those were the things I needed to say.

That’s not what I said. What did I say?

"My mother’s going to be home soon."

In other words, thank you very much, now get out. Please, shoot me. I’m such an idiot. I wanted to take back the words as soon as I said them. Especially when I felt him stiffen as he held me, and then he unraveled himself from me.

"Yeah, I’m sure she is," is all he said. He got out of the bed and started gathering his clothes, then put them on. He still couldn’t look at me. It was so awkward.

"Frankie?" I said. He looked up at me. "Thanks. That was….incredible."

At least he smiled at that. "Thank you," he said. "It was pretty damn incredible from my end, too." He leaned over and kissed me. Well, that was something. At least he didn’t hate me. "Don’t get up, I’ll find my way out," he said. And then he was gone.

STUPID FUCKING IDIOT! Oh, man, I could’ve just crawled under the nearest rock.

Instead, I just lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out just how in hell I was going to fix this.

Why didn’t I just say it? Cowardice. I wanted him to say it—because I had no idea how he felt, other than turned on. So, I wanted him to say something loving and sweet. Of course, I didn’t give him much time, not with that "Mother will be home" comment.

And it was afterwards, lying in bed, that I realized something. I had made love, in broad daylight, nothing covering my stomach. No darkness, no hiding, no nothing.

For the first time. And I practically kicked him out.

Oh, man. I am such a fuckup.

I walked home from her house in a daze.

I was still trying to figure out just what had happened.

Hell, I’d had sex before—but never like that. She was just amazing. I’d never seen anybody cum that long! I probably could’ve held out a bit longer—but not with all that cumming and spasming and writhing going on around my dick. It was just mind-blowing. And I will never forget the look in her eyes when she asked me to fuck her.

However, I had the horrible sinking feeling that I had just blown another friendship. That’s what I get for thinking with my dick. Because sex—even incredible sex—wasn’t worth a friendship. And the way she reacted afterwards didn’t make me feel better. She acted like she couldn’t wait for me to get out of there.

I needed to talk to someone about this. I needed advice on how to fix the damage.

I went home, and found Mama. She asked about the game, and I told her. She gave me a kiss on the cheek for the homer. I asked if she minded if I headed to the Burger Hut and found the guys down there. "No, Frankie, go right ahead. More supper for the rest of us," she smiled.

I walked downtown to the Hut. Most of the gang was just getting assembled. I found them, and leaned in to Lily and Mike. "Hey, Mike, do you mind if I borrow your girlfriend for a bit?"

"You getting tips on how to throw harder?" he laughed.

"No. This is personal. And Lily knows some of it, and I trust her judgement."

"Sure," Mike said.

"I’d be glad to," Lily said, and we found an out-of-the-way table.

"Don’t tell me, let me guess," she started. "Cassie."

"Cassie," I confirmed. "We just made love."

"ExCUSE me?" Lily said with a stunned laugh. "OK, how did this happen?" I told her the whole thing.

She thought for a minute. Then she said to me, "Look. You know I’m not shy about sex, I’ve told you that. You know I was no virgin when Mike and I met." I nodded. "But, I have to say," she continued, "the only person I ever wanted that badly was Mike. That she wanted you that badly tells me something. Plus, the way you described her looking at you in art tells me something."

"Maybe. But the way she basically booted my ass out of her bedroom before my cock even got limp tells me something different."

"Fear, Frankie. Fear. Look, the first time Mike and I made love was sort of awkward, too, afterwards—because we hadn’t whispered words of love in each other’s ears yet then either. However, you know me. I took the bull by the horns—and pretty much said to Mike, ‘Hey, what just happened’? I don’t think Cass is as blunt as I am."

"Nobody is as blunt as you are," I laughed.

"Too true," she grinned. "Most girls want to hear that stuff from the guys first, you know?"

"Yeah," I agreed.

"How do you feel about her now?"

"Confused," I admitted with a laugh.

"Which is why you didn’t say anything," she said astutely. "You need to fix your confusion first, Frankie. Then you can fix your friendship. And see what else is there."

"Good point," I told her.

We went back to the table with the rest of the guys, then, and ate. Afterwards, I walked home, and tried to do some homework. I didn’t get much done—too much on my mind.

How, exactly, did I feel about Cassie?

Look, it’s not an easy thing to be confronted with the end of a valuable six-year friendship. Even if there’s the possibility of something better. I’d been through it more than once—and the ‘something better’ never happened. But, what I had to ask myself was, how much was that fear clouding my thoughts about Cassie?

A lot. I admit it. Quite a lot. I hadn’t allowed myself to really think about the something better, because I was too scared to lose the friendship. So, pretending to do Trig homework, I relaxed my mind, and allowed myself to imagine it. Me and Cassie, together, and not as friends.

I liked it. I liked it a whole lot. Even when I forced myself to forget the memory of the earth-shattering sex we had shared. I still liked it. I liked looking up in the stands at a game and seeing her there. I liked going to one of the band concerts and watching her play the flute. I liked having her by my side as we gathered with the gang at the Burger Hut.

It just felt… right. Everything I imagined, it felt right.

Good. Now I just needed to somehow tell her that.

I held it together through supper. I held it together while I did a bit of homework. I didn’t hold it together sitting on the couch with my mother late that night.

I spontaneously started crying.

Mom, of course, was concerned. She came over to the couch and hugged me while I cried. Only after I had calmed down did she say, "Cassie, what’s wrong?"

I told her everything. She fumed at the hyenas and their picture trick. She smiled as I told her about my experiences posing with Frankie in art. And, to her credit, she dealt pretty well with what had happened in my bedroom this afternoon. Mom’s not stupid—she knows I’ve been sexually active. She’s not that old-fashioned, though I know she used to be. She really does try.

I think, though, she was surprised it happened with Frankie.

"How was it?" she bravely asked.

I had to giggle. "I can’t believe you asked me that, Mom. Anyway, it was the best ever."

"And it only took you six years?" she laughed.

"Something like that," I laughed back. "Who knew?"

"Cassie, you know I’ve always thought the world of Frankie Gutierrez. That boy has a heart of gold. Never thought you’d see it, though. Not through the haze of idiots like Nick."

"Well, I’m an idiot, too," I admitted.

"Not anymore. Looks like you woke up."

"Not completely," I sighed—and then told her about the aftermath. "I lost my mind. I panicked, and completely lost my mind. And now poor Frankie, I have no doubt, thinks I just wanted him for a quick boink."

"That’s not what you want him for, though, is it?"

"No," I admitted. "I want him for keeps."

"You need to tell him."

"I know. If only I can get him to listen after today."

"You will," she smiled. "Cassie, I’m happy. Even if you are having, you know, sex with him. I am really happy. I hope it all works out."

"So do I," I smiled.

--end of part three—