Clem slept in the next morning, not awakening until her mother called her downstairs.

"Honey? There's something here for you."

Clem rolled over and looked blearily at the clock.

Nearly eleven o'clock.

Wow.

"Coming, mom," she called, her voice raspy with sleep. Had a package arrived for her or something? On a Saturday morning?

She made her way downstairs in her pajamas, appreciatively sniffing the fragrance of coffee.

Yum.

At the bottom of the stairs, however, she stopped short.

There was a small tree in the entry where none had been last night.

It was in a container, and stood about four feet high, including the beautiful ceramic pot it was rooted in. The leaves were dark green and glossy, and there were small orange citrus fruit hanging from it, interspersed with delicate white blossoms which smelled incredible.

Her mother was standing, staring at it, and Clem joined her, all thoughts of coffee forgotten.

"This is for me?" she asked. Who would send her a tree? And for what? She reached out and touched one of the fruits, which looked like a tangerine.

"Clementines, they're clementines," her mother told her. "It's a clementine tree, honey."

"Who would send this to me?" Clem wondered out loud.

"There's a card, why don't you look?"

Clem pulled the card from among the leaves and opened it.

"Thank you for a delightful evening, I hope we can do it again, very soon."

It was signed simply, "John," though there was a p.s.

"Blossoms and fruit both, absolutely marvelous."

And under that was what looked like a phone number.

Surely not. John Darling-Ezekwesili didn't just go around giving out his number to all and sundry.

"It's from Johnny," she told her mother. "Thanking me for last night."

"Wow." Her mother said. "I don't even know that it's clementine season right now, I'm amazed he was able to find one with both blossoms and fruit on it. Must've cost him a fortune."

Clem was impressed. Way more original than sending flowers, that was for sure.

"We can eat these, right?" she asked her mother.

"That's sort of the point," her mother laughed. "And I think we can keep it in the sun room, since citrus needs a lot of sun."

Between the two of them they managed to move the potted tree to the sun room at the back of the house, where they put it in the corner that would get the most light.

Clem picked two of the fruits to enjoy with her coffee, and was delighted by the tiny things and their sweet, tangy flavor.

How thoughtful.

Clem thought about how she should thank him, or at least let him know it had arrived. Should she actually use the phone number he'd given her? And what if it was just his management company's number, or his publicist? Maybe she should send a thank you through Hy? But then what would he think, if that was indeed his actual phone number?

Clem was getting dizzy thinking about the implications and ramifications of those ten little digits that were written at the bottom of the card.

She thought about it all day, as she showered and worked on homework, and finally she decided to lay the problem out to Kim and Alan, her two best friends. She sent them a text asking if they could come over, and one hour later the three of them were sprawled on her bed.

"You spent the whole evening with Johnny?" Alan asked, obviously impressed. His blond hair was a California tangle from all the time he spent in the pool.

"Idiot, she told us all this last week, don't you remember? She and I went shopping for the jacket she ended up making herself?" Kim admonished. "How'd it turn out, by the way?"

"It was a hit,"Clem assured her friend. "Anyway, I didn't invite you over to talk about the jacket. Do you think it's his real phone number, and should I text him a thank you or something and use it? Or should I send a thank you via Hy?"

Kim and Alan pondered the depths of this dilemma while they ate Nutter Butters straight from the package.

"I say assume it's his actual number, and text him a thank you," Alan finally said. "I mean, what would be the point of putting his publicist's number on the card? He obviously enjoyed spending time with you and wanted you to know."

"I agree with Alan," Kim said, shoving an entire Nutter Butter in her mouth. "I don't think he'd put any other number down, there wouldn't be any point. He likes you and wants you to communicate with him." She grinned at Clem.

"But his actual phone number?" Clementine repeated for about the tenth time. "Do you know how many people would give their right arms for Johnny Darling's number? And he just casually gives it to me attached to a tree?"

"I don't see why he wouldn't. I mean, you're Hy's sister, you know what's what, he knows you're not just going to pass the number out to anyone." Alan gestured toward the phone. "Go on, send him a text thanking him for the clementine tree."

Clem stared at her friend, aghast. "What, right now?" She shook her head vehemently. "Unh-unh, no way. It will take me hours to think of what to say and how to say it."

"Don't be stupid," Alan said as he threw a small pillow at Clem's face. "You can't wait that long to thank him, he's going to think you didn't receive it, or that you don't care enough to thank him at all."

"You think?" Clem sounded uncertain.

"Yes, for god's sake, just send a quick text right now," Kim agreed. "I think you're way overthinking this."

"Well, okay," Clementine agreed reluctantly. She still felt like it was dangerous, somehow, to just dash off an offhand thank you, but she bowed to her friends' opinions.

She grabbed her phone and typed, erasing what she'd written frequently and typing again. "How's this?" she finally asked, holding her phone out to Kim.

"Thank you for the clementine tree," Kim read. She turned to stare at Clem. "Are you kidding me? And you're an English major, too."

Next to her, Alan shook his head. "Pitiful," he agreed. He took the phone from Kim and began typing. "Now that's more like it, I think," he said, passing the phone back to Clem.

"I had a wonderful time with you, too, I hope we can do it again really soon. And thanks for the beautiful little tree, I'll think of you every time I look at it," Clem read out loud. She shook her head. "No, that's too forward, it sounds like I'm assuming he wants to see me again. And that second part sounds almost romantic, are you guys crazy?"

Kim and Alan looked at each other.

"I think it sounds fine," Kim said, nodding. "And what's wrong with assuming he wants to see you again? He said so in the card, Clem."

"I'm sure he just talks like that to everyone," Clem said desperately. "He doesn't actually mean he wants to see me again—I mean, why would he? And he's dating Hy, anyway."

"Well, I'd say this is all moot," said Alan, setting Clem's phone down.

"Why? Why is it moot?" Clem asked, reaching for her phone.

"Because I just sent the text," he informed her with a beatific smile.

"Alan Koski! You did not!" Clem looked at her phone.

Except he had. There is was, with the little check mark next to it indicating it had been delivered.

Clem threw the phone down on the bed like it was scorching hot.

"I can't believe you did that," she gasped.

"Oh, calm down," Alan admonished. "It's just a text, not a marriage proposal."

"But it was so forward, so—so aggressive or whatever," Clem lamented. "He's just being nice to the plain sister of the glamorous and gorgeous girl he's hoping to date."

The phone pinged with an incoming text, causing all three to jump away from it.

"Oh my god, so fast? Would he answer you so fast?" Kim breathed. She gestured for Clem to pick up her phone, but Clem shook her head violently.

"No, one of you do it, I'm afraid to look."

Alan grabbed the phone. "It's from him," he announced. He looked at the girls with a grin on his face. "You want me to read it?"

Wordlessly, Clementine nodded.

"So happy you liked it! And yes, let's get together soon. My schedule is quite mad, but I think I could swing brunch tomorrow, if you're free?"

Kim squealed. "He's into you, Clem," she practically shrieked.

Clem swatted at her friend. "Bite your tongue, idiot. He isn't, he can't be, he's into Hy."

Alan shook his head sagely. "Doesn't seem like it," he said.

"So what are you going to wear?" the ever practical Kim asked.

Clem stared at her, shrugging helplessly. "I don't know," she said. "Besides, doesn't it depend on where we're going?"

"So hurry up and find out!"

Clem picked up her phone and typed, "Sounds great! Where and when?"