Now I was supposed to waggle my wings to show I understood.

It happened so fast. We got out of LaRue's with a huge bag of stuff, me wearing the lavender wrap dress and Mrs. D still babbling on the phone to her husband.

"Ask Del how he feels about taking Sam to the Cheesecake Factory. She wants to go," she said.

I—what? Distracted by the swishyness of the wrap skirt, it took me more than a moment to realize what Mom had suggested. This was not going according to plan. I looked around, trying to plot an escape route, but we were practically in the middle of the mall.

Mrs. D broke into a peal of laughter then waved her fingers at me. "Del is asking if you promise not to punch him this time if he admires your hair?"

"I—no!" I wasn't going to promise any such thing! I shook my head, then put a hand on one of my braids. Now Mom was laughing at me!

"She won't," Mrs. D told her phone, choosing to misunderstand me. Grinning, she turned, putting the phone away. Then she pointed at the other visible end of the curving mall hallway where someone was waving. "There they are!" she said.

I squinted, peering that direction. Yikes! It was Del and the man I had identified as his father, waving at us like we were going to land on their carrier. I saw that in a movie once, I think. Now I was supposed to waggle my wings to show I understood.

To heck with that! Maybe I could hide in the shoe store again? But no, they were between me and it, now.

The tall, dark-haired boy who had pulled my hair in the cafeteria called out to me. "Sam?" He had a smiling mouth but the same sad eyes I remembered.

"It's me," I said—no point denying it. I moved the bag of clothes I was carrying in front of me, sort of trying to hide behind it. It was big enough, being the bag with all the outer clothes we had purchased.

Del (yes, it was him) stepped right up to me. "Let me carry that for you," he offered. He took the bag, and I hadn't thought I would let him, but I was busy noticing how tall he was. Over six feet by some inches, I was sure. I know I'm not very big, but I felt tiny.

I blurted out a question, "How tall are you?" I knew it was rude when I asked.

He grinned. "Six-three," he answered. "How tall are you?"

Equally rude, so I didn't answer.

He put the bag under his arm and fell in beside me, following our collective parents. We were evidently going somewhere, but I had no idea where.

"You're a freshman, right?" Del asked. "Do you have Mr. Muller for Science?"

"Oh, my God!" I exclaimed. I nodded. "The man is insane!" I laughed, and Del nodded agreement.

"He's a hoot," he added. "Has he done the trick with putting sodium in a bucket of water yet? Almost set the building on fire when he did it my freshman year."

We both laughed.

"He mentioned that when he did it for my class. Said that was why he was using only five grams instead of twenty!" We laughed again.

I was still smiling at him when he apologized. "I'm sorry about pulling your hair last fall," he said. "The guys dared me to do it."

"Yeah, well," I said, a bit sour. I'd almost forgotten for a moment that he was one of my mortal enemies. "It wasn't very nice, but apology accepted."

He was still grinning down at me. "You got me pretty good with that punch. Who knew such a small girl could hit so hard."

Now...now was not the time to tell him I was a boy, standing there wearing padded underwear and makeup with a lavender dress swishing around my knees. Instead, I made a fist and tried to glare up at him. "I guess I'm just the right height?" I said.

He laughed even harder. I stared at him, then glanced around to see if we were attracting attention. Apparently not. Even our parents were ignoring us. I kept staring at him. Even while laughing, his eyes looked sad, like they had missed hearing the joke.

I felt bad about having punched him in the crotch six months ago, now. I hadn't before, not even after getting detention for it or having my suspension lengthened because of it. "I am sorry about punching you," I said when he paused in his laughter to wipe tears from his sad eyes.

"That's okay," he said, smiling more guilt down at me. "I guess I deserved it."

Okay, I giggled a bit at that. Embarrassment? Maybe.

He went on, accepting more responsibility for provoking me. "The guys kept telling me you were a guy, and all that hair was a wig. So they started making bets, mostly that I wouldn't go over and pull your—uh—your wig...." He saw my expression. "What?" he asked.

Would there ever be a better time? I tried to sound as serious as I could, trying to communicate that I was telling the truth. "But, Del, I am a guy!" I told him.

He laughed again, shaking his head. "Remind me never to play poker with you," he said. "That is the deadpanned-est delivery I've ever seen." His grin even reached his eyes this time, and they lit up as his caterpillar brows climbed up his face, and his sleepy eyelids opened up to show his enjoyment of my joke.

Oh, good grief!

"No, really," I said earnestly.

He laughed harder.

"You don't believe me?" I asked. Well, it was obvious that he didn't. I don't know why I asked.

He shook his head, still grinning and chuckling.

I brought up my fist. "I could punch you again," I said. "Would you believe me then?"

He shook his head, trying not to laugh in my face.

It was so ridiculous. I poked him in the belly button with my closed fist. "Del, I am a boy!" I said, but I was giggling myself by now.

He closed his big, basketball-engulfing hand over my tiny one and pulled me closer. "If our parents weren't right there, I'd kiss you and find out for sure."

"Huh?" I managed to say. "What do you mean?" Stop giggling! Had my brain stopped working for some reason?

"I think I could tell kissing a girl apart from kissing a boy," he said, still smiling.

Despite the draft on my legs in the wrap-around skirt, a rush of blood to my face made me feel hot. I choked off the giggles and opened my mouth to dare him to kiss me!

Mrs. D saved me from that foolish thought, "Del, you and Sam head over to the Cheesecake Factory. She's got her heart set on it."

Mom was holding her hand out with something that looked like money. She pulled me close and whispered to me, "Let him pay if he wants to, but here's enough to cover you if he doesn't." I took the money, but Mom took it back and slipped it into the purse I had forgotten I was carrying.

Del took my hand while his parents and my mom waved at us. He led me to a side door to the mall's inner parking lot. "Do you want a burger or just get a dessert?" he asked.

"D-d-d-d-Del!" I protested. Had Mom just suckered me into going on a date with a boy?