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Archer scrunched his face. "Tell me you're lying."

"I'm lying."

"Tell me you're lying without lying."

"Lying about lying? Or lying about the Tastykakes?"

He opened his mouth to speak, then paused. "I'm not sure. I'm confused now. Why would you have a five-year-old Tastykakes on your night table?"

"It's kind of a shrine," I admitted.

"A shrine to prepackaged snack cakes?"

"It's from a trip we took downtown when I was in sixth grade," I said. "I got to bring Claudia, and we did the whole Independence Hall/Liberty Bell thing, then Mom and Karl wanted to go on a walking tour. We begged until they said we could hang at the Bourse, as long as we held on to one of their cell phones. It was a huge deal because my parents had
never
been okay with me out in the world without a grownup."

"Sixth grade?" Archer asked.

"They were a little overprotective. They got better."

"So what did you do with your taste of freedom?" Archer asked. "Wait, I know. You and Claudia got matching tattoos. Liberty Bell tattoos. Rebellious and patriotic at the same time."

I was wearing shorts and a tank top, so I stretched out my arms and legs. "Do you see a Liberty Bell tattoo?"

Archer wiggled his eyebrows and looked me up and down. I gasped as if scandalized.

"No! No tattoos. We got soft pretzels and ice cream. Then we went to a cheesy gift shop where I bought the Tastykakes and the mini Liberty Bell, both of which I swore I'd always keep on my night table, like a symbol of my independence."

"Wow ... the Liberty Bell as a symbol of independence. I'm amazed no one else ever thought of that."

"I didn't say it was original."

Archer sat on my bed and plucked up the Tastykakes again. "I actually don't think these go bad."

"You wouldn't—"

"They're Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes. I love Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes."

"I'll buy you Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes."

"But these are right here. And you've only offered me dry Mini-Wheats. No jury would convict me."

"Archer..."

Archer held the package to his nose. "Mmm. Peanut buttery."

"Archer!"

"Want to split them?" he asked, and crinkled the package as if he were about to rip it open.

"
Archer!
" I leaped onto the bed and grabbed for the Tastykakes, but he leaned back, holding it just out of my reach. I lunged for it, but he quickly rolled off the other side of the bed. I pounced after him and raced around the room to catch him before he could open the package. I finally tackled him back onto the bed, pinning him down with my body so I could snatch the package away.

"HA!" I cried. I rolled onto my back and brandished the Tastykakes in triumph.

"Well done," Archer said, but when I looked over to rub in my victory, I froze.

He had propped himself up on one elbow and was gazing down at me. Our faces were inches away from each other, and I recognized something in his eyes: a look I saw when he read his lines as Cyrano, opening his heart to Roxanne.

I couldn't move. I made my breath shallow. I didn't want to do anything the least bit jarring. I didn't want to break the mood and stop what I knew was about to happen.

Only it didn't.

We stayed like that, lying side by side on my bed, all alone in the house, our eyes locked together...

Then the doorbell rang, and the spell was broken.

The repair guy.

We ran downstairs to open the door, then Archer and I went back to our books like nothing had happened.

I didn't want to tell Claudia about it. I'd actually stopped calling her lately, or only called when I knew I'd have to get off the phone in a second. I let her calls go to voice mail, and I answered her texts and e-mails as vaguely as possible.

I knew it was wrong. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to her, but I didn't want to hear what I knew she'd say. It had already been a couple weeks since her texts changed from urging patience to pressing me for details on why Archer still hadn't made a move. I could only imagine her reaction to this. Better not to mention it. After all, I told myself, I'd only known him six weeks total. What was six weeks? It was nothing.

Sunday, after a day of Ping-Pong at Archer's house, I drove home for dinner to find Claudia's car parked in front of my house and a familiar braided figure sitting on our front stoop. There was no way I could keep driving. She'd already seen me, and I knew she would stay there all night if she had to. I parked my car and painted on a smile.

"Claude! It's so great to see you!"

I tried to hug her, but she held up her palm and gave me a steely glare.

"This is not a visit, Cara. This is an intervention."

"I'm not saying he
is
gay, Cara. I'm just saying you have to consider the possibility that he
might
be gay."

I didn't even know how to respond to that, but apparently my face said it all. Claudia rolled her eyes and threw up her hands.

"Honestly, Cara, don't tell me you've never thought about it! You and Archer have been completely in each other's space for ages now. If he were really into you, wouldn't you have been...
in
each other's
space?
"

"Claudia!"

"What? I'm just saying most guys would have made some kind of move by now."

I blushed, thinking about the move he specifically
hadn't
made the day before. Claudia misunderstood. "He
did
make a move! How could you not tell me?"

"He didn't..."

I explained everything.

"But that doesn't mean he's gay!" I finished.

"No, it doesn't. It could just mean he's not interested."

"Thanks. That's great."

"
Or
that he's really shy. You said he's never had a girlfriend, right? So maybe he's like the forty-year-old virgin."

"Nice. Way to make him sound completely undesirable."

"Other options: gay or not into you."

"Okay, forty-year-old virgin. But it's not like
I've
ever had a boyfriend, and I'm not too shy to do something!"

"Then do it," Claudia said. She folded her arms like the conversation was over.

"Do ... what?" I asked. "Make the first move? The thing you told me
not
to do because it would scare him away?"

"I was wrong," Claudia said.

"How do you know? What happened to patience? What happened to 'even if it takes him a while'?"

"A while, yes. This is an epoch! New species have mutated into existence since you and Archer first started flirting!"

"It's only been six weeks!"

"Cara, you stopped the Ladder for this guy!"

"Oh! So this is about the Ladder!"

"This is about
you,
" Claudia said. "If Archer really likes you, I don't care about the Ladder. But if he doesn't, you're wasting an amazing opportunity and you're torturing yourself waiting for something that won't happen!"

I was all energized to respond. I really was. Except she was right. I honestly didn't think Archer was gay. If he was, he was very closeted, and he didn't need to be—not in his Cubby Crew. Doug wasn't. But it was possible. And it was a lot better than thinking that even though to me we seemed like the perfect couple, he really didn't think of me that way. The very idea made my stomach hurt. Then again, maybe Archer
wanted
me to make the first move. Maybe he really
was
just crazy shy and needed a little encouragement. Maybe the second I leaned over and kissed him, he'd throw himself on me, kissing me, holding me close, inching his hand slowly underneath my shirt...

I was starting to sweat.

"So..." I asked Claudia, "did your Ladder research tell you anything about
how
to make the first move?"

 

I hate horror movies. Really, truly hate them. Would never in a million years go out of my way to see one. I even know that Archer hates horror movies, too.

This did not for one second stop me from adding
Saw
to my parents' Netflix queue. It came two days later, and I told Archer I really wanted to watch it. Friday night. At his house.

The timing was very specific. Saturday would be huge at Chrysella Prep. During the day was the Homecoming football game. This meant less than nothing to me, except for the fact that in the name of school spirit, Archer didn't have play rehearsal Friday night. In theory, this was so cast members could attend pep rallies, but neither Archer nor I were pep rally types.

Saturday
night
was the school's Halloween dance. Aside from the casting of
Cyrano,
this was the biggest event on the fall schedule for Archer and his friends. They started planning their costumes over the summer and coordinated to make a massive group statement. I'd seen pictures of the eight of them freshman year as the Muppets and sophomore year as the Eight Wonders of the Ancient World. Technically, there are
seven
wonders of the ancient world, but everyone agreed that Wonder Woman qualified as the eighth.

This year they were going as Greek gods and goddesses. They'd invited me to join them, but I had no confidence that I could pull off a costume as ornate as theirs, even after Sue promised to help me with the sewing. Besides, I had a kitty cat costume from last year that made me look
very
cute, so I figured I'd wear that.

My grand plan was for Archer and me to seal the deal and become a couple on Friday, making Saturday's Halloween dance our first official date. And who doesn't want to spend her first date all dressed up and dancing the night away with her brand-new boyfriend?

On Monday I told him my cinematic plans.

"Really?" Archer grimaced. "
Saw?
I thought you weren't into horror movies."

"People say if you're going to watch one, this is the one to watch," I said. I walked away enigmatically to avoid any questions I couldn't answer. At least, I tried for enigmatically, but I tripped over the outstretched feet of a Wasteoid and went sprawling. So much for mystique.

For once I was glad Archer was so busy with rehearsals. It was hard even to be around him that week. My head was too swimmy with what I knew I was planning and all the wonderful and horrific ways it could turn out. It played a constant fantasy loop that ranged from an insane makeout session on the Ping-Pong table to Archer racing from the room screaming, arms flailing as he ran to disinfect himself from the full-body assault.

I didn't go right to Archer's after school Friday. First I met Claudia at my house, and we spent no less than four hours figuring out what I should wear, how I should do my hair, and how I should smell. Thankfully, Mom and Karl had their own Halloween party that night. They were so busy getting ready and out the door, they didn't notice the intensity of my preparation. Not that Mom would have objected. Had she known my plan, she probably would have jumped for joy and helped Claudia get me ready. Check that—first she would have called Bina, then they'd
both
have jumped in to help. Gross.

The first snag Claudia and I hit was underwear. Claudia insisted that my underwear had to be matching, clean, and cute. I figured clean was a given, but I couldn't imagine any scenario in which I'd be modeling my cute, matching underwear for Archer.

"That's not the point," Claudia said. "Articles of clothing could get moved around. Things could come off. You never know what he's going to see. Everything has to look good just in case. Besides, women are more confident when they have on sexy underwear. It's a documented fact."

Claudia knew her documented facts. I didn't question it. Unfortunately, I'd never bought underwear for any purpose beyond wearing it
under
things, so I didn't exactly have anything that worked as a smashing ensemble. And I certainly didn't have anything sexy.

Eventually, we settled on a basic white silky bra and white cotton bikini panties with a little lacy trim at the top. I stood in front of the mirror and we both studied my reflection. It wasn't anything we hadn't seen before; Claudia and I lived in bikinis over the summer. But this felt different.

"I don't know..." I said. "Do I look good?"

"You're slouching a little. Stand up straighter," Claudia advised.

I did. She nodded. "Perkier. Better."

"You think?" I turned to the side to get another view. "You don't think the waistband makes my stomach pook out a little? You don't think I need a fancier bra?"

"No pookage," Claudia said. "And you don't
have
a fancier bra. It's okay, though. If Archer actually gets to the bra, he won't want to judge it. He'll want to get
around
it,
beyond
it, and get you
out
of it."

Was it bad that the idea made me smile? Of course, if he got me out of it, I would be half naked with Archer. Half
naked.
Nobody had seen me naked since I was a kid. I didn't even let my mom see me naked.
I
didn't even like to look at me naked. But Archer might see me naked.

Not that it was likely. This would be our first time fooling around, and I was fairly certain neither one of us was an expert at getting people naked ... but it wasn't out of the question. Naked was at least a possibility.

I might see
Archer
naked. Did I want to see Archer naked? The question was ridiculous; it made me think of him standing in front of an art class, throwing off a robe, and striking a pose. If naked happened, it wouldn't be a formal thing. We'd be attacking each other: kissing and unbuttoning and feeling and touching and...

I giggled as a shiver ran through me. Yeah, I wanted this. Badly. I quickly pulled on the rest of the outfit Claudia and I had picked: a skirt, which was both cute and more accessible than jeans; a thin long-sleeve shirt; and boots with heels. I tamed my hair with product and let the curls hang loose, and put on just enough makeup that I looked better than usual but not so much that I'd arouse suspicion right off the bat. We went fruity with the perfume: alluring without screaming "jump me" and in a small enough dose that he wouldn't smell me the minute my car pulled up out front. I grinned at the end result in the mirror. I looked good.