"Come on, you can do it!" Carley pushed Amy forward. The school day was over, and their science class was emptying into the hall. "Just tell him I can't make it, and you were all set to see your movie so now you're disappointed."

Amy groaned. "Carley, I don't think I can do that." She was watching Brad, who was animatedly informing Eric of something or other. He looked so cute when he waved his hands like that...

Suddenly Carley stepped in front of Amy, blocking her view, and began talking in a loud, frantic tone.

"Amy, I'm so sorry I got detention. I mean, you were all excited to go the movies and you even borrowed your dad's car...is there anything I can do to make it up to you? It's too bad someone else can't go with you...I mean, especially since the movie is free, what with you working at Masterdom Movies and all."

"What's this?" Brad asked, looking over. "Free movie? Amy? Carley not going? Friend needed?"

Carley faked relief, looking over her shoulder with a hopeful expression on her face. "Brad! Maybe you can go with Amy. To the movie. Instead of me. Since I can't go."

Brad grinned. "Me? Go? Sure. Free movie? Love to."

Amy exchanged looks with Eric, but secretly, she was dying to burst. "Is it just me, or are they talking? Like? This?"

Eric shrugged. "Not sure. Don't know. Can't tell."

They all burst out laughing. "Seriously, though," Carley continued, "I can't go tonight and Amy's got free tickets to the movies."

"Well, I'm in," Brad said, giving Amy a bright smile. Suddenly she was smiling back. "I'll meet you at your locker, okay?"

As Amy watched Brad and Eric leave the room, she felt incredibly light inside. Brad actually wanted to go to the movies. With her. Tonight.

Amy's heart started beating faster. "I can't believe this," she realized. "Brad and I are going to the movies!"

Carley was beaming. "Thank you, thank you very much." She added a sweeping bow.

Amy's head was practically spinning. "We're going to be alone, Carley! This is like a date." She let out a nervous giggle, hitting a particularly high note.

"That was the point," Carley said with a wink.

"Carley! Sit down," Mr. Hicks ordered, reappearing from the office located off the classroom. "Amy, off you go now."

Amy hugged her best friend. "Thank you so much!"

Carley grinned. "Have fun!"

"You too!" Amy paused in the doorway and looked back at Carley, who was watching with a skeptical look on her face. "Well, you know what I mean. Bye!"

Amy soared down the hall and still felt like she was floating when she reached her locker. She was looking at her reflection in her locker mirror and applying lip gloss when—

"Okay, so how are we getting there?" Brad asked, his blond curls appearing in Amy's mirror.

Amy jumped. "Getting where?" She clumsily shoved her lip gloss in her pocket.

Brad looked at her with confusion. "The movie. Which movie is it, anyway?"

"Oh! The movie!" Amy straightened, taking a deep breath to calm her beating heart. "I'm driving."

"'I'm Driving'? I never heard of that movie." Brad looked as if he were beginning to regret his decision.

"No, I'm driving." Amy couldn't help but smile. "That's how we're getting there. The movie's called Friendly Foes. It's a comedy starring—"

Brad's eyes lit up. "I've been dying to see that! OK hurry up, we don't want to be late."

Amy shut her locker and led the way out of the building and into the student parking lot. "For someone who was only just invited, you seem pretty excited to go." She pulled out her keys and unlocked the door to a small silver car.

"A Toyota Corolla," Brad observed as he got into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt.

"It's my dad's," Amy informed, turning the key in the ignition. "So don't make a mess." She backed out of the parking lot and was careening down the road in seconds.

"Yes, ma'am," Brad drawled. As they waited for an opening in the next lane,

Amy turned on the radio but played it softly so they could chat. She could feel Brad's gaze shifting between the windshield and the steering wheel. "You drive so slowly."

Amy took a right turn. "I drive at the speed limit," she corrected.

"This is the long way. We should have turned left."

"I know," Amy answered uncomfortably.

She could see Brad turn in his seat to face her. His voice came out gently. "You can't take right turns your whole life or you'll be going in circles."

Amy's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "W-what did you say?"

Brad sighed. "I said you can't take ri—"

"I mean, I know what you said," she interrupted. "But did you come up with that on your own?"

Masterdom Movies came into sight. Amy pulled into the parking lot. They had beaten the crowds, plus it was the middle of the week, so there were plenty of good parking spots to choose from.

"Yeah...I just thought of it now." Brad sounded embarrassed.

Amy looked at him as she turned off the ignition. "No, no, it's not a bad thing. It's just..." She suddenly became aware of how quiet it was without the radio on. "It's just, that's probably one of the most profound things I've ever heard you say."

Brad's eyebrows creased. "Really?" He grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"As you should," Amy noted. They both looked at each other and burst out laughing. Amy suddenly felt much more at ease. This may or may not be a date, she reminded herself, realizing she wasn't sure which possibility was more nerve-racking.

Amy led the way into Masterdom Movies. There was no line-up, so she and Brad approached the box office, where Fiona was working alone.

"Hey, Fiona." Amy lowered her backpack onto the floor. "Could I get two passes to Friendly Foes, please?"

Fiona smiled. "Sure! Coming right up."

            Brad leaned against the counter. "Are you in grade twelve at Adam High?" Amy didn't know if Brad was interested in Fiona, or if he was just asking, but she sincerely hoped it was the latter. Fiona was pretty, with shockingly black hair and striking green eyes. "I think I've seen you around."

"Yes I am," Fiona answered. "Are you in Amy's grade?"

"Yeah, we have a few classes together," Amy jumped in, wanting to remind Brad she was there too—just in case.

Brad leaned against the counter, staring at the ceiling. "This place is impressive. I never noticed how big it was."

            "That's because you've never seen it this empty," Amy added. Masterdom Movies was the most successful theatre company in the city, not to mention the largest and most well-known theatre in the area. It was composed of two floors, and a total of sixteen cinemas—three of which were IMAX. Amy considered herself lucky; the pay was also better than most theatre jobs.

            Fiona handed two free passes across the counter. Brad's eyes lit up like a little boy when he received his ticket, and he couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice as he ordered and paid for two drinks and a medium popcorn to share. Does that make this a date? Amy's stomach danced excitedly.

Amy presented their tickets and Brad followed her up the stairs to the theatre. "I can't believe we're seeing Friendly Foes the day it comes out!" Brad gushed. "I figured I'd wait till Friday to see it since it's a week day and all." Brad went on and on about how excited he was, probably without even realizing it, while Amy led the way to the top aisle of the cinema. Almost all of the seats were empty.

            "I've never seen you so...exuberant," Amy admitted.

            An extra loud crunch came from Brad's mouth as he chewed on a handful of popcorn. "I haven't been this hyper in a while," he said slowly, sinking into the seat next to hers. "I've been pretty busy lately, and the closest I've come to having fun has been going to Le Petit Café for lunch." He turned and smiled at Amy. Even in the dark, his eyes were like two sapphires. "Thanks for the free ticket," he added.

            Amy shifted her gaze quickly and dug unnecessarily into their popcorn. "Thanks for coming. Carley didn't plan on getting detention, so you kind of saved the day."

            "Naw." A couple popcorn kernels slipped out of Brad's hand as he tried to eat as much as he could in one handful. "There are plenty of people who would have jumped at the chance to go to the movies with you." Brad's voice sounded unexpectedly bitter. "I'm just the first one who said yes."

            Amy gave Brad a funny look, but she doubted he noticed since his eyes were on the screen—plus the lights were dimming since the movie was starting. Does he know we asked Eric first? What if he thinks we wanted Eric to go, and that I only invited him because I had no one else? Uh oh.

            Amy's questions were forgotten in the sponge of the movie. For the next two hours, she found herself immersed in a web of laughter as the movie characters pulled crazy stunt after stunt. She stole a couple looks at Brad and found him laughing harder than her every time. The best part was when a character dug into a piece of chocolate cake, and Amy looked at Brad. He was looking at her too, and they became the only two people in the cinema who were giggling. 

            It was during the last half hour of the movie that Amy heard a whistling sound. It tickled her ear, disappeared, and distracted her by coming back. Soon, she found herself concentrating more on the sound than on the movie.

            "It's more like a ringing sound," Amy whispered.

            Brad pried his eyes off the screen. "What is?"

            Amy quickly realized she had voiced her thoughts. "That noise," she elaborated.

            "What noise?" Brad sounded concerned, but only mildly, as his eyes bounced back to the screen.

            Amy didn't know how to explain it. Wasn't it obvious? At this point, the noise was as loud as the fire alarm in her townhouse. "Can't you hear it? It's—Ahh!" She tried to keep from screaming, but the noise had grown from a ringing in her ears to a pounding in her head. She buried her ears in her hands, but even that didn't muffle the sound.

"Amy, are you okay?" Brad's drink spilled across his lap and all over his chair. Amy could feel it licking at her shoes, but she was in too much pain to care. "I'll take you to the lobby." Amy could hardly hear Brad's voice—he sounded so far away. Without removing her hands from her ears, she let him guide her out of the cinema.

            "You're crying," he told her.

Amy could hardly feel her eyes stinging. "Brad, I—" Suddenly she lost the need for words, surrendering to the pounding in her head. The last things she saw before she blacked out were Brad's concerned blue eyes as he reached out and broke her fall.

                                    ~                                  *                                  ~

Amy found herself in a room the same size as her own, but with a completely different mood. The lack of sunshine, together with the stone walls, created a dungeon-like atmosphere. Despite the bad lighting, Amy could make out four people seated around a table, all looking at its head. Amy followed their gaze and jumped in surprise, flinching when she backed into a cold stone wall.

A large, hazy figure—Amy couldn't tell if it was a woman or a man—occupied the head seat. Amy rubbed her eyes but the haze wouldn't clear; it was as though someone had blurred the image to censor it.

The hazy figure started speaking in a voice as dark and cold as the room.

"Time." The simplicity of the word reverberated. "Time is our ammunition, and it is running out." The speaker slammed a clenched hand onto the steel table. The others responded with a jerk. "I want to be rid of these beings!"

            A scrawny man of about forty years spoke up. "Your Greatness, I propose we create a team to compile a presentation demonstrating the negative side effects of every irritating habit these humans have. We can assemble a group of representatives to present i—"

            "No," the speaker interrupted firmly. "They are beneath 'human.' They've forgotten what the word means. These people think nothing of others or of the future. Our lifestyles, our world, will die if we do not change this."

Our world? Amy thought. Carley would love this dream.

            "Yes," the scrawny man agreed. "They must be eliminated."

            The woman seated next to the speaker pulled back her blood-red hood, revealing a no-tolerance expression. "Are you suggesting we can no longer act rationally? That we must resort to violence?"

            "What are you implying?" a tight-lipped man accused the woman. "That we go public? Reveal not only ourselves, but the hidden identity of our world?!"

            "Stop this foolishness!" The speaker brought a hand down on the table again. As before, the companions jumped in their seats. "Have you learned nothing from these humans? War will destroy your obstacles, but only temporarily. War teaches nothing. War will get you what you want, but war will also get you another war."

            The four seated around the speaker were rendered speechless.

Finally, the companion who had not yet spoken found his voice. He had been sitting in the corner, with his legs drawn close and his hand resting on his knee. Amy couldn't see his face, but she noticed his strange attire. He wore silver cowboy boots and brown tights. A white hooded cloak encased the top half of his body. What stood out the most was the flashy belt around his waist. It seemed to register light even though there wasn't any light in the room. Amy turned away—her eyes stung just looking at it.

            The fourth companion leaned forward. "My father was a noble man who believed fiercely in eliminating those who stand as obstacles. His untimely death only reminds me more that we must stop these retched, ignorant, selfish—"

            "Who is this?" the woman with the blood-red hood hissed. "He can't be more than eighteen. A boy!"

            The young man jumped to his feet. Amy was still unable to see his face from her position in the corner, but she was too enraptured to move.

            "I am no boy," he objected firmly. "I am Don of Kent, son of the late Earl of Kent." Though he seemed to be someone with a powerful background and much to be proud of, Amy had a bad feeling about him.

            "The Earl of Kent?" the women with the blood-red hood echoed. "He died in battle, did he not? Slayed by the Earl of Hendrix?" The woman with the blood-red head looked to the speaker for confirmation. The speaker nodded, signaling for Don to continue.

Don took a moment to recover from the painful memory. "Are you saying, your Majesty, that we will destroy these humans without violence? That is impossible."

            The speaker did not seem offended by this remark. "I am saying that war will only put off these issues for half a century or so, but what then? We have to do this another way."

"Another way?" the four companions repeated dumbly.

Amy could imagine the speaker smirking, but the haze made it impossible to verify.

"Helima!" the speaker called, and a short, overweight woman scurried into the room. A bulge in the front of her dress mirrored the bulge in her back. "Light," the speaker said. The four companions seemed confused by this, but their expressions cleared when Helima lit a candle in the centre of the room.

"Light," the speaker continued, "can make a room brighter, can it not?"

The four companions nodded approval. Amy took a step closer to the table.

"Light will also make our futures brighter." The speaker stood up, and the four companions did so as well—probably as a sign of respect, Amy thought. "This will all make sense in due time." The speaker's voice resonated in the relatively empty room. "Good evening."

"Good evening," the companions returned, reluctance clear in their voices. They hesitated, as though hoping the speaker would clarify its meaning. When nothing happened, they bowed and grudgingly exited the room.

Don was the last one to leave. He hesitated in the doorway, looked back in the candle's direction, and shut the door behind him, plunging the room into a darkness that only emphasized the warm glow of the candle.

Amy was afraid to step forward, even though she knew she was somehow protected—clearly no one could see or hear her.

"Violence is not the solution, Helima," the speaker voiced, still standing at the head of the table.

"The greatest councilors and the wisest women and men have come up with no other solution," Helima pointed out gently. She had an oddly large nose. It looked almost as if someone had flattened a ball of clay and pointed the end. "The council you gathered tonight was the last one."

The speaker let out a sigh. "It was all a test. I had a solution from the very beginning."

"What do you mean?" Helima took an urgent step forward. Amy realized then that the bulge in Helima's back was not a hunchback, as she was walking with good posture. What was it? "All this time, all this effort, and you did not need to hear what these wise people said? Many of them traveled great distances!"

"I didn't say I didn't need to hear them," the speaker clarified. "I needed to be sure that none of them knew about the Light."

Helima's eyes widened and her skin blanched. She stumbled to a chair and collapsed onto it. "That is too dangerous. You know what happened last time! Why, last time—"

"Last time, she did her best, but her plan did not work. That will not stop me, Helima." The speaker's voice changed—the coldness drained away until its voice grew gentle, almost sad. "If not for this world, if not for the other world, I must do this for her. Helima."

"Yes?"

"You know what to do."

"But...Adam High is across the border—"

Amy gasped when she recognized her school's name.

"Helima!"

"Send him in?" Helima's voice trembled.

The speaker walked up to the candle, and without wincing, extinguished the flame between two fingers. "Send him in."

                                    ~ * ~

            "Amy, honey, wake up." The gentle male voice was music compared to the pounding that had inhabited Amy's head for the past few hours. She slowly opened her eyes, making out a round head and dark eyes framed with glasses.

            "Dad."

            "Honey, you're awake!" Her father's face relaxed. "Are you all right? What happened? That nice boy dropped you off—"

            Amy sat up, fully recovered. She recognized the pale blue walls of her bedroom right away. "Brad? He drove me home?"

            "Yes." Amy's father rubbed his forehead. She could see bags under his eyes. "Oh, honey, I'm just glad you're awake."

And suddenly Amy's father was hugging her, tighter than she could remember their hugs usually being.

"I'm OK, Dad," Amy reassured him, a small smile on her lips. She had to admit it felt good to be comforted.

Her dad's voice was a little muffled. "I was so worried about you." He pulled back. "That is, we were."

            "We?"

            In answer to Amy's question, Carley stepped into the room.

"Carley!"

Amy's father smiled at her. "I'm so glad you're OK, sweetie." His gaze drifted toward her bedside table, and then back to her, a hint of something moist in his eyes. He brushed a finger against her forehead and rose from the bed, giving Carely a nod before closing the door behind him.

Carley rushed to the bed. "Amy, don't scare me like that again! I was at home watching TV when Brad called and said you had fainted and he sounded so worried, but he didn't know where you lived exactly or which house it was, so I told him and he drove you here in your dad's car and—"

Brad! Memories of the movie outing slash possible date came flooding back to her. "He did all that?" Amy asked.

Carley nodded. "He refused to leave your side. When I came over and saw how exhausted he looked, I drove him home so your dad could stay here with you. I spent the rest of the time pacing downstairs."

Amy was taking this all in slowly. "Why didn't you guys call a doctor?"

Carley sat cross-legged on the bed, her short red-brown ponytail swinging. "Your dad said doctors can't do anything for fainting spells. He said our best chance was to make sure you were comfortable and to put wet cloths on your forehead." She leaned back. "He was right. You're fine."

Amy bit her lip. That seems odd. She couldn't help but wonder why her dad hadn't taken her to the doctor's to be sure—especially when he'd looked so worried.

"So?" Carley scooted further onto the bed to keep from slipping off. "What happened? Did you faint?"

"Actually..." Amy lowered her voice. "I had a strange experience." She explained everything she'd seen in her dream.

Carley cocked her head. "So, basically, you dreamt you were at a secret meeting involving a group of strangers who plan to destroy the human race by sending someone to our school, Adam High, to fetch something." It sounded silly, but Carley obviously liked it. "I wish something like that did happen. Something interesting."

"Well, it was just a silly dream I thought you might like to hear." Amy looked at her night table, meeting her mom's deep brown gaze from the picture encased in a stunning silver frame. She felt a familiar blanket of sorrow. "I wish my mom were here. I bet she'd be the type who would help me with this kind of stuff."

Carley sounded sincere. "She probably would have. I would have liked to have met her."

Amy pursed a smile. "She left before I met you, but I would have loved for her to meet you too."

The silence surrounding her statement felt heavy. Even Carley's next words seemed as though they were being uttered with great effort. "So your dad really never told you why she left?"

Amy sighed. "No, he never told me why she thought leaving me here would be better than staying to take care of me." And Amy hadn't dared to ask. She was always hunting for answers in school, and she was always good at finding them, but something scared her about this answer. She'd only tried to ask her dad, once, and he'd looked so incredibly broken that it frightened her. He'd excused himself and locked himself in his study, but it hadn't blocked out the sound of his sobbing. The look on her father's face, the sound of his sorrow, had instilled a fear in her so strong that not even her desire to know more about her mom had given her the courage to ask again.

Carley's voice came out gently, not a trace of her usual humour in it. "She looks so pretty. Like a loving mom."

Amy picked up the picture frame and brought it closer. She could see what Carely meant—you could see it in her mom's eyes. She didn't have the memories to back up the feeling, though—every time she thought she remembered something about her mom, the memory would slip away, like it was covered in butter. "I don't remember much about her, but I do remember that she was always organized and careful, and she cared about everything around her." Amy put the frame back. "It seems totally against her type to decide Dad would be the better caregiver." And it was that disconnect that kept Amy from feeling angry—she just knew there had to be a logical explanation. One that made her dad so incredibly sad...

"Well, even though your dad's always busy with work, he clearly loves you very much."

Amy remembered her father's eyes, burning with relief and worry, when she had woken up from the dream. Her own eyes blurred when she remembered the shiny belt Don had been wearing in her dream.

"I can't forget that dream," Amy confessed. "I've never dreamt anything so powerful."

Carley stared out the window at the black sky. "I hate that word."

            "Which word?"

            "'Dream.' That's all they are—dreams. Unreal. Why can't they be real?" Amy recognized the passion in Carley's voice. "Life is a pointless cycle. We are born so we can go to school, and we go to school so we can get jobs, and we do those jobs until we're too old and useless to do anything. Now, your dream sounds like a dream come true."

Amy thought about that. "It did feel real," she admitted. "Especially that shiny belt. It was so blinding. I remember how much my eyes stung when I looked at it. Kind of like when you're inside and it's dark, and you step outside into the sunshine."

Carley nodded to show she understood.

Amy continued. "I don't know why, but as I watched it all, it made complete sense to me. It was like I already knew about it or something. Do you know what I mean?"

Carley checked her watch quickly. "Actually—no. I think you should get some rest." She looked up. "Dream of Brad. That's much safer," she advised.

"I would," Amy agreed, "but I have a calculus quiz on Friday so I should study first."

"Amy." Carley's jaw dropped. "You have so got to be kidding me. You just fainted. You deserve some rest. Besides, it's nine twenty-two!" Amy gave Carley a determined look and, in turn, her best friend sighed. "OK, I get it, but please promise you'll be in bed by ten."

Amy laughed. "Yes, boss. But seriously, I will be. I don't plan on staying up late."

Amy thanked Carley and hugged her, thanking her again for her help before she made her way out of the room.

Amy took Carley's advice. She took out her books but couldn't concentrate for longer than ten minutes. She relived her outing with Brad before falling asleep, and it was still on her mind the next morning as she got ready for school. She put on her favourite jeans and a baby blue blouse, then hurried down the stairs.

"Amy, are you sure you're OK?" her father asked worriedly, popping his head out of his study.

Amy stopped on her way to the door, pleasantly surprised to see her dad take time away from work this early in the day. "Yeah, thanks, Dad. Really, I'm fine." She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll see you tonight!" she yelled cheerfully as she swung her bag onto her back and put on her roller blades.

It was a cool, cloudy day and the roads were blocked by cars for the entire five blocks that stood between her and Adam High. Amy spotted Carley's tiny grey Honda and waved but Carley was too busy singing an Elvis song to hear Amy's shouts.

Amy caught up with Carely in the school parking lot. "Even though singing isn't your forte, I have to say I enjoy that part of my morning routine." She leaned against Carley's car to change from her roller blades into her running shoes.

Carley laughed. "I know I can't sing. That's the fun part!" She launched into another verse of the song, singing loudly as they entered the school. Amy cracked a smile and joined in all the way to their lockers.

"Back me up!" Carley suggested, launching into the chorus.

Amy glanced down the hallway and suddenly stopped talking.

"Amy, why didn't you back me up?" A passing group of guys gave Carley a dirty look.

"There's Brad," Amy whispered. She tucked her roller blades under her arm. "I'm going to talk to him alright?"

Carley grabbed a textbook from her locker. "By all means. Judging by how he acted yesterday, he's probably desperate to see you're OK."

Amy took a step forward but a hand on her arm pulled her back. "Carley, I said I'd be right ba—Oh."

Marcus grinned and took his hand off Amy's shoulder. "Hey, Amy. Only seven school days left."

"Hey, Marcus." Amy knew only too well what Marcus was referring to. She sent Carley a pleading look while shaking her head in Brad's direction.

Carley grumbled and reluctantly turned to Marcus. "Marcus, I was wondering..." She seemed to hesitate, then placed her hand on Marcus' back to direct him down the hall in the opposite direction. The look on her face was priceless. Amy giggled as she watched her best friend guide Marcus down the hall.

"That unmistakable giggle," Brad's voice said, coming up behind her.

Amy spun around and smiled. "Hey, Brad."

He ran his hand across the top of his curls. "You look like you're feeling better." There were traces of concern in his eyes. "How are you doing?"

Amy appreciated the concern; it was nice to hear about it from Carley but even nicer to see it in real life. "Pretty good, thanks to you. Thanks for taking me home and looking after me."

"No problem."

Amy shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry you missed the end of the movie."

Brad waved his hand as if to brush off the apology. "It's okay—it was free anyway, and I still had fun." He leaned in. "You know I'm joking, right? About the free part, I mean. I did have fun. A lot."

Amy perked up. Her heart did a somersault. "Me too." And suddenly she heard herself say, "You know, we could see the movie again. For free. If you want to catch the ending."

Brad's face lit up.  "Really? I—" He opened his mouth to say something but then he stopped to consider it. "Um, no, that's okay."

"Oh." Amy wanted to smack herself. Just because he had fun doesn't mean he likes you! But we're friends...so there's nothing wrong with me expecting him to want to hang out again. "But...OK, I mean, I still feel bad about the movie."

"Don't. It's not your fault." Both of them seemed eager to think of something to say. Brad's eyes rested on her roller blades. "You roller blade?"

Amy seized the topic, eager to get past the sudden awkwardness. "I love roller blading."

"Me too!"

            Perfect! "Want to go roller blading some time?" Wow, suddenly I'm asking him on any possible date I can come up with?

            Brad's smile wavered. "Naw. I mean, I'm really busy with...uh, school, so you know...I'll talk to you later, okay?" Brad gave a tiny wave and headed back to his locker, where Eric and a couple other guys were talking.

Amy would have been standing pathetically in the same spot if Carley hadn't guided her to their lockers moments later. "You owe me big time," Carley hissed. Her expression grew sympathetic when she saw the look on Amy's face. "Aw, Amy."

Amy stared after Brad, who was listening intently to Eric with a serious expression. "I feel like a fool," she said at last. "I thought he might like to hang out again. I guess not. Maybe it's that blond girl..."

Carley sighed. "How much do you like him? Like this?" She used her fingers to create a small circular shape. "More than this?" she asked, enlarging them.

Amy sighed and leaned against her locker. "More than this."