Part One

Lane Alexandria Martin strutted gallantly through the doors of EdgeWay Christian Academy. She was flanked on her left by her best friend and confidante GiGi Gravestepper, whom she'd known since third grade.

As the two walked together through the hallway, having come back early from lunch, they passed the school's life-sized memorial to Ruby Densett, the girl who'd gone missing just a few weeks ago.

Lane hadn't known Ruby very well; but if she had to guess, she'd say Ruby'd probably just run off with some high-schooler. She always had a thing for older boys, especially the ones who were stupid enough to fall for her.

"Honestly, I envy her," Lane said to GiGi matter-of-factly as they passed the shrine. "I wish some older guy would give me a one-way ticket out of this crap hole."

"Oh, come on, Lane," GiGi laughed as they walked on, approaching a dull-gray set of lockers on the right. "EdgeWay isn't so bad."

"GiGi," Lane retorted, "be real. The teachers suck, the principal's office smells like barf, and I'm pretty sure that one lunch lady with the ugly hairnet has all of Kingdom Insecta crawling through her scalp and having a big fat orgy in her ratty split ends."

"Dang, Lane—you're mean," GiGi joked. "Remind me why we're friends again?"

"Because, GiGi," Lane drawled, deliberately stroking her long, vanilla-blond hair and twirling it at its end with her dainty index finger. "I'm just so gorgeous. The boys can't keep their eyes off me. And if they think you're my friend, you're automatically gorgeous by association. It's science."

GiGi giggled. "Speaking of science, Insecta is a Class, not a Kingdom. Weren't you paying attention in biology? We have a test on this next week."

"GiGi, there's only one person I pay attention to in biology, and it's not Mrs. Alvin."

"Lane," GiGi chided, her voice slightly less playful, "Sam Irish's perfect eyes and chiseled face won't help you pass biology."

"Relax. I have a C."

"No, you have a C-minus. And this taxonomy test isn't going to be easy."

Lane sighed. "GiGi, stop trying to bring me down. I'll study this weekend." She paused. "Do you think Sam's good at biology? Maybe he could tutor me..."

"Lane!"

"I'm just kidding! Besides, I'd much rather him tutor me in anatomy..."

GiGi rolled her eyes as she opened the door to Mrs. Haffley's sixth-period English class, ending at last her and Lane's trek through the hallway.

The girls sauntered over to their seats in the middle of the classroom, GiGi whipping out her makeup bag:

"Time to freshen up," she giggled with glee.

"Couldn't agree more," Lane smiled back at her.

"So glad we left lunch early. Even Mrs. Haffley isn't here yet. And that means we've got a sec for a little mid-afternoon glow-up." She grabbed her tapered blending brush and toyed with it in the air. "I just hate the way lunchroom food ruins my look. It's so not fair."

"Ditto," Lane affirmed, preparing to take her seat next to GiGi when—huh?

Just as she moved to slide into her chair, a singly folded sheet of loose-leaf notebook paper caught her eye. It sat solitary upon her desk, adhered to the top with a strip of tape.

"GiGi!" Lane gasped. "Somebody left a note on my desk."

"Ooh," GiGi cooed, her lips finding a sly smile, "a secret admirer."

Lane grinned, laughing lightly. "What'd I tell you? The boys just can't stay away."

She unfolded the page and held it up to the light, revealing that all-too-familiar tacky scrawl characteristic of the seventh-grade boys. Chuckling at the print, she began to read aloud:

"Dear Lane: Roses are red; violets are blue. If you were a booger, I'd pick you...EW! What loser wrote this!?"

GiGi burst out laughing.

"That's not funny, GiGi!" Lane huffed. "I bet it was that dork Dorian Saver. Ever since I let him borrow my pencil for that history test last month, he's been soooo thirsty."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," GiGi spoke up, shocked. "Dorian's pretty cute."

"Um, no. He's okay, at best, and only when he has that back-facing combover. But combover or not, he's no Sam Irish."

"True," GiGi granted, "...but he is one of Sam's jock friends. If you get in good with Dorian, then maybe..."

"No, GiGi. Absolutely not. Lane Martin does not settle. Sam is a yes, and Dorian is a big fat no."

As she was speaking, several other students began to file in, making it back from the lunchroom as Lane stood in annoyance. Dorian and a few of his friends walked in moments later, taking seats along the left side of the classroom next to a set of tall square windows shining sunlight through the glass.

"Look who's here," Lane mused to GiGi. "Time to shut this down once and for all."

Grabbing her leftover water bottle from lunch, Lane sashayed over to where Dorian was sitting and slammed her palm on his desk. 

"And just what exactly is the meaning of this?" She held up the love-note for all of his friends to see.

Dorian's eyes grew wide. "Lane! I...uh, I mean..."

"Dorian, spare me. Please. You're honestly thirstier than the Sahara." She leaned in closer, her eyes locking angrily onto his. "I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: boogers aren't romantic; they're disgusting. Just like you!" She lifted her water bottle with lighting speed and dumped the remainder on Dorian's head.

She smiled victoriously. "There. That should help quench your dry, achy-breaky heart."

Ooh's and ah's rebounded through the air, echoing off the classroom walls. Even Dorian's friends joined in, laughing as he turned a dozen different shades of red.

A single hand rising triumphantly to her hip, Lane twisted around to return to her seat, having squelched at last Dorian's boyish crush on her.

But as she sashayed away from the wannabe she'd left soaking wet and sputtering, she froze mid-stride the moment she saw Sam Irish standing in the classroom doorway, looking on with shock in his eyes.

Oh, crap. When did he get here?

He looked at her intently for a few moments, gaze uncertain, face downcast—then just shook his head as he turned to walk away.

No! Lane, you idiot! her brain screamed, Dorian's like Sam's best friend, and now he's...

"Sam, wait!" Lane called desperately.

But it was too late. Sam was already out the door, into the hallway...gone.

Lane ran to catch up with him, bolting through the classroom entrance, but—

"Lane!" the voice of Mrs. Haffley shook Lane back to reality as the woman's stiff hand encircled her wrist.

"Where ever are you going?" She continued. "Class is this way." She pointed toward Lane's empty desk. "Have a seat!"

Mrs. Haffley was accompanied by Principal Rodley and Vice Principal Turner, both of them carrying large folders.

"But I...But Sam..."

"He's excused. He'll get his buddy later."

"Wait," Lane puzzled, "'get his buddy?' What does that mean?"

"Surely you haven't forgotten, Lane! Today is the Iron-Sharpens-Iron Buddy-System pair-up."

Lane's eyes grew wide; it had totally slipped her mind.

Every year, the seventh-graders were paired up with one of the kindergarten kids to help them with their reading, basic math, and Bible classes.

"Oh," Lane finally spoke. "Right. Of course."

"Very well then, Miss Martin. If that is all, then I invite you to kindly take your seat." Mrs. Haffley looked to be growing impatient.

This lady is so high-strung, Lane thought to herself as she walked back to her desk and plopped down next to GiGi.

After a few moments, Principal Rodley walked to the front of the classroom and began to announce who would be paired with whom.

The administration always sought to pair boys with boys and girls with girls, for nothing but scandal ever came of the premature mixing of the sexes—at least that's what they told the students.

But just this once, they'd be breaking that rule. There were a few too many boys in seventh grade and an overflow of girls in the kindergarten. Lane and GiGi laughed all throughout the latter portion of Principal Rodley's list, his face growing more and more pained as he was forced to read the boy-and-girl pairings of which he no doubt disapproved.

Once he finished, he and Mrs. Turner exited the room, surrendering the class to the mercy of Mrs. Haffley's lecture, a lecture made all the more dreary by Sam's absence.

****

After class, Lane and GiGi met up outside and headed into a crowd of eager kindergarteners, searching for the girls whom they'd been assigned.

"Mine's named Celia Levy," Lane pouted. "My gosh, that sounds like an old-lady name. Like, hello, Benjamin Button alert! Pretty sure that girl's parents were born in the nineteen-twenties."

GiGi giggled. "Lane, stop! What if she hears you?"

Lane nonchalantly donned her sunglasses. "Can't say I'd be too heartbroken. It was just a joke. She'll get over it."

"Hi!" came a spry and happy voice.

Lane and GiGi turned, spotted a tiny girl in a plaid-fringed navy skirt.

"Hi, sweetie!" GiGi spoke. "What's your name?"

"I'm Cassidy Clara! Is one of you Georgiana?"

"That'd be me," GiGi affirmed with a smile. "I'm Georgiana. But you can call me GiGi. It's very nice to meet you, Cassidy."

The two hugged tightly then hurried off to a corner to make small talk, leaving Lane standing alone in the middle of a throng of little people dressed in khaki pants and skorts.

"Some crowd, huh?"

I know that voice. Lane blushed beet red as she turned to face Sam.

"Um, yeah," she managed. "I guess you could say that."

He paused. "Hey, Lane, sorry I ran off earlier...I wasn't feeling too good."

"Aw, how come? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright. I went to the nurse, and she said I look fine. I guess it's just stress. Quarter finals are coming up soon for basketball. And Mrs. Alvin's class isn't helping any."

Oh, crap. Boy talk. 'Quarter finals'—what does that even mean?

"Yeah, biology's rough," Lane finally blurted. "Can you believe they're thinking about letting her teach the ninth graders too?" She glanced off, retreating from Sam's bright eyes. "So, um...how's your kindergarten buddy? Is he just as much of an athlete as you are?"

He laughed. "Well, it's not a boy. I was one of the guys who got paired with a girl."

Lane's hand rose to her throat as she faked shock. "Sam Irish, you naughty boy," she chuckled.

He smiled.

"So, who is it? What's her name?"

"Irina," Sam answered. "You haven't happened to run into her yet, have you?"

Irina!? No way! Sam's kindergarten buddy is GiGi's—

Before Lane could finish her thought, the high-pitched voice of a little girl tore through the air:

"Hi! I'm Irina! Are you Sam?"

Initially shocked, Sam turned and smiled warmly at her. "Why, yes, I am. And I'm guessing that makes you my new little buddy."

"Yay!" she squeaked with delight. "We're going to be best friends forever!"

Lane waited for them to walk off, for Irina to skip merrily up the hall with Sam at her side. She watched them plop down next to a wall covered by a cerulean-blue bulletin board; she watched Irina hug Sam as the two started talking, the little one squeaking a mile a minute while her new big brother stared back with those shining eyes of his. And all the while, Lane smiled—she smiled so vigorously that her jaw grew sore.

For she had won at last. The boy of her dreams could finally become the man of her reality. As she gazed upon Sam sitting cross-legged in the hallway, upon the girl bouncing joyously next to him, she knew that her fondest wish would finally be granted.

And at the hand of none other than her best friend's little sister—Irina Gravestepper.