Chapter One

The bell signifying the end of the last class of the day rang promptly at three fifteen. Mr. Feeny dismissed the class and best friends Cory and Shawn gathered their books, pens and notebooks, quickly shoving them into their respective book sacks.

“I’d have to say that yesterday was the worst Valentine’s Day’s I’ve ever had since Topanga and I started going together,” Cory complained dolefully, standing near his desk in front of Shawn’s.

They slung their backpacks over their shoulders and were the last to file out of the room behind their classmates who had been a little more than anxious to be gone. Cory hung back to allow Shawn to go through the doorway before him.

“Well, it was actually one of my best,” Shawn stated as they strolled over to his locker. “Even though those girls made me look like an idiot in front of my girlfriend.”

Cory turned his head as they walked and saw Topanga leaving Feeny’s classroom. She didn’t even look in his direction as she passed. He sighed despondently and turned to Shawn.

“Well, at least you had a girlfriend for Valentine’s Day.”

Shawn finished removing his books from his locker, replacing a few that he’d had in his book sack. “What do you mean had?” he asked with a frown. “Angela and I are still together.”

It was Cory’s turn to frown. “Um, didn’t you tell her that you just wanted to be friends?” He gave a casual shrug. “I could be wrong, but that doesn’t sound like you two are still together.”

Shawn slammed his locker shut and turned to his friend. “What I said was, I wanted to change our relationship because I thought that we needed to be friends before we could fall in love,” he corrected him. “It’s not the same thing.”

Cory’s face expressed his skepticism. “Same difference. Frankly, I don’t get what all the fuss is about, Shawnie,” he stated, throwing out his hands. “You’re already in love with Angela. And not just because she’s pretty, and you think she’s hot. You and Angela connected on a much deeper level. But you let those girls make you doubt your own feelings.”

“Well, maybe I did,” Shawn conceded. “But you’ve got to admit, they had made some good points about me, Cor.” He lowered his eyes. “Maybe I’m not boyfriend material after all.”

“Or maybe they were jealous that you weren’t boyfriend material for them,” his friend suggested, nodding wisely.

Shawn looked up at that, a quizzical look in his eyes. “Well, if you really thought that, why didn’t you say anything last night?”

Cory leaned back against the row of locker doors, crossing his legs at the ankle. “I’m saying something now. Listen Shawn, when I fell in love with Topanga, we weren’t friends. I mean we knew each other from when we were kids, but we didn’t become friends until after we started dating. That’s when we started to get to know each other.”

Shawn’s blue eyes widened as he stared at Cory. “S-So you’re saying that I screwed up again?” he demanded, his voice rising at the end. “A-Are you saying that Angela thinks I broke up with her?”

“Come on, Shawnie.” He looked around the quickly emptying hallway. “Do you see her around here? Don’t you two usually meet up after class and go to Chubbie’s after school?”

Thunderstruck by Cory’s logic, Shawn nodded slowly. He was starting to feel a little numb. “Yeah, we do,” he replied. Cory was right. Angela must have left the room as soon as the bell rang. He hadn’t even seen her go, and they sat next to each other on the back row.

Mulling over this new information, he absently slipped the books he’d taken from his locker into his bag. “She probably went straight ahead to Chubbie’s to wait for me there,” he concluded hopefully. “You know—to give you and me a bit of time together, Cor.” The worried look on his face abated somewhat. “That’s all it is. She knows how upset you are over Topanga standing you up last night. Angela’s really good about giving me my space, too.”

Cory gazed at him speculatively. Shawn sounded more like he was attempting to convince himself than anything else. He kept his thoughts to himself. “You’re probably right, Shawnie,” he agreed lightly. “So…you going to Chubbie’s or what?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I know Angela’s going to be waiting for me.” Although his response was swift, his voice lacked conviction. Suddenly, he brightened. “Why don’t you tag along, Cor? Angela won’t mind.” If she’s there, he thought anxiously, and if she wasn’t, Cory and I can drown our sorrows in colas and pass the time talking about how stupid we are.

Cory thumped him on the back, drawing Shawn’s attention away from his unsettling thoughts. “Sure. Let’s go.”

Shawn smiled wanly and hoisted his back pack onto his shoulder. “After you.”

The two friends left John Adam’s High School headed for their after school hang out, Chubbie’s Famous Hamburgers. Unbeknown to them, both were hoping the same thing: that Angela was there and waiting for Shawn. They would soon discover that they were only partly right.

~*~ 

Angela descended the old wooden stairs leading down into Chubbie’s small dining room. Once at the bottom, she looked around and spied the person she’d come to meet. Affixing a smile upon her lips, she quickly crossed the beaten up wooden floor, her low healed granny boots tapping gently on the wide boards, and slid into a low booth at the room’s far end.

Her companion looked up swiftly. “Hey,” Ted Brazelton, John Adams High’s star wide receiver, said in greeting. He was a good looking black guy with short wavy hair, caramel-colored skin and a line of light fuzz over his upper lip that he proudly called a mustache. “Thanks for coming, Angela.”

She sat her full book bag down beside her and laid her hands down on the table “So what the big emergency, Ted?” she asked abruptly. “I was surprised to see you waiting for me at my locker right before lunch period.”

“I was surprised to see you alone for once.” Ted shoved two French fries into his mouth. “Hunter actually let you out of his sight for a change.”

Angela propped her chin on the palm of her hand and narrowed her dark eyes at critical tone of the comment. “Shawn and I don’t have to be together all the time to be together,” she countered. “But you didn’t ask me to meet you here to talk about Shawn or our relationship, did you?”

Astonishingly enough, Ted pushed his half-full fry basket on the side. “No, I didn’t.” He accepted the mild chiding with good grace. “I really need the advice of a female. I don’t have any sisters, and I could never go to my Mom about a thing like this,” he said, shuddering at the thought. “And I couldn’t trust telling this to any other girl. It would be all over the school by noon tomorrow.”

She frowned thoughtfully. “Speaking of being all over the school, we need to make this as quick as possible,” she suggested, twirling one of her spiraling curls between her fingers. “It might be better if Shawn didn’t know that I met you here.” Ever since Shawn had found out that she was seeing Ted after he’d discovered that she was the “purse girl” with whom he had fallen in love after finding a purse filled with her things that she’d borrowed from a friend and which she’d ended up losing, he’d displayed an absolute and unreasonable dislike for the popular football jock. His being co-captain of the football team only further served to irritate her current boyfriend. Because of this, Angela preferred that her meeting with him not get back to Shawn, and if they were together too long someone was bound to get the wrong idea and take it back to him who would then overreact like he always did when he felt threatened. She’d found out about that part of his character within days of their second successful attempt at dating.

Ted raised an eyebrow and automatically reached over to get a fry. “Trouble between you two?” he inquired curiously around the fry in his mouth. “I thought you guys were supposed to be soul mates or somethin’?”

Angela sighed. “It’s no big deal. Just something Shawn’s going through right now,” she said evasively. She looked at Ted expectantly. “So—what’s so important that you needed my advice?”

“Well, after you broke up with me to go out with Hunter, I asked Tabitha Johnson to go out with me. You’re a friend of hers, right?” Ted paused and waited for her to give his inquiry an obligatory acknowledgement.

Hiding her impatience, Angela nodded and settled in while Ted went on to explain his dilemma with his new girlfriend.

~*~ 

A half hour later, Shawn bounded down the same stairs that Angela had on her way to meet Ted in Chubbie’s dining room cellar. He was in a hurry to see if she was there or not. When he got to the bottom landing, his eyes immediately located and zeroed in on Angela. A small smile began to raise the corners of his mouth. He started down the remaining few stairs only to come to an abrupt halt when his focus widened, and he realized with shock that she wasn’t alone.

Cory careened into the back of him. “Hey! Why’d you stop like that?” he asked sharply, gazing at Shawn in surprise. Then following the direction of his friend’s gaze, he stifled a groan. Wonderful! More drama.

Shawn’s eyes blazed with sparks of blue flames shooting from their depths as Angela reached across the table to lay her hand on Ted’s larger one. Before Cory could pull him back, he quickly strode over to their table; the same one at which Angela and Ted been sitting when he’d interrupted their date nearly three months ago to plead with her to go out with him again.

“Hey, Angela.” He stopped beside their table. He noted with grim satisfaction that their heads whipped around at the unexpected sound of his voice.

“Shawn!” Angela exclaimed. She looked surprised, but he couldn’t detect any guilt or unease in her expression. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, coming to meet you, honey,” he replied smoothly. The false note of sweetness failed to completely cover the underlying edge in his tone. His eyes traveled from hers to the hand lying so intimately over Ted’s.

It was removed like a shot to the accompaniment of a slightly self-conscious giggle.

“Could I speak to you a minute?” Shawn asked abruptly. He folded his lips as he waited for her answer.

She turned her head and glanced at Ted who quickly rose. “Hey Hunter, you can take my place,” he offered affably. He picked up his red and gold letterman’s jacket from the ledge of the booth. Holding it between his hands, he said simply to Angela, “See you around.” Yet the covert look he gave her, meant to convey his unspoken gratitude for her assistance, was intercepted by Shawn and wholly misinterpreted. His lips tightened even further with annoyance.

Ted turned to go, but Cory was standing in his way. “Matthews,” he said with a curt nod and stood waiting for him to move.

“Brazelton,” Cory responded cordially enough, but he deliberately took his time moving out of Ted's path. He turned his head to make sure that the other guy was leaving. While Cory was watching Ted climb the stairs to exit on the first floor level, Shawn slid into the seat facing a silent but calm Angela. Fuming blue eyes met untroubled dark brown for an extended moment until Shawn broke the contact by casting a quick glance up at his friend.

“Cory, would you mind?” Shawn asked. Cory turned back to face them. “I need to talk to Angela. Alone.”

“Sure.” He glanced at both of his friends then indicated the ordering window with a jerk of his thumb. “I’m going to get a burger. Um, you guys want anything?”

“No,” Shawn said shortly. He was studying Angela with unwavering intensity.

She met Cory’s anxious eyes placidly. “Nothing for me, Cory.” She smiled her thanks.

They waited until Cory had walked away. Someone changed the jukebox’s music, and loud strains of old school rock ‘n roll blared through its speakers.

Angela smiled at Shawn who didn’t respond. “I didn’t know we were still going to meet here after last night,” she commented.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Shawn asked belligerently.

“Well, you said that you just wanted to be friends, and I thought—”

“That’s not what I said,” he interjected abruptly. Thoroughly frustrated, he raked his hand threw his hair. “Why is everyone saying that that’s what I said? All I said was that I thought we needed to be friends before we could fall in love.”

Angela frowned. “It’s the same thing, Shawn.”

More annoyed than he’d felt he’d ever been in his life, Shawn sucked in his breath sharply. “So the fact that you thought that we were friends now instead of boyfriend and girlfriend gave you an excuse to accept a date with Ted, Angela?”

Angela cast her eyes heavenward. “Shawn, you’re overreacting!”

He leaned forward, his face intent. His black leather jacket creaked a little as he moved. “How am I overreacting? You were sitting here, holding hands with an old boyfriend, and I’m overreacting, Angela?” he asked angrily. “For all I know, you’ve been waiting for something like this to happen so that you could go back to your little two week plan. Maybe just being with me is too boring for you!”

This kind of accusation coming as it did from the John Adams High reigning king of dating was as ironic as it was absurd. Employing every ounce of restraint available, Angela resisted the urge to roll her eyes and sighed instead, trying to summon up the patience necessary to deal with Shawn when he was being unreasonable.

“Shawn, if you’ll just let me explain—”

“What’s there to explain?” Shawn asked huffily. He flung out his hand. “I could see for myself what was going on. It’s obvious to me that you want to see other people.”

Angela drew in her breath. “Shawn, that’s not true. But you’re the one who said that you wanted to change our relationship,” she stated indisputably. “You’re the one who let those jealous cats influence you.”

Shawn stared at her. “I don’t believe this!” He was utterly flabbergasted. “Angela, you were here with another guy, and suddenly, it’s my fault?” He bristled, pointing to himself incredulously.

“No!” Angela closed her eyes and tried to hold onto her temper. He was twisting every thing she said. “I mean, I did meet him here, that’s true. But Ted and I—”

Shawn didn’t give her a chance to finish. Just hearing her utter the words ‘Ted and I’ increased his annoyance tenfold.

“How would you feel if you’d found me here with-with Dana Pruitt, for instance?” he inquired rashly, without thinking the statement through, or paying any heed to its possbile implication. He was too intent on making a point to see the slippery slope just ahead. “What if I’d asked her out? Huh?" Two could play this game, he thought triumphantly. "How would that make you feel?”

A heartfelt groan came from the table behind them. Yet neither combatant heard it; both were too engrossed in the developing drama to notice.

Angela didn’t answer for a long moment. After studying his face, she tilted her head, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Well, since you and I are only friends now, is that something that you think you want to pursue?” she asked coolly. She folded her arms and waited for his answer.

Somehow even Shawn sensed that the mood at the table had changed slightly. The momentary victory he’d experienced just a second ago slipped away as though it had never even existed. Suddenly, he felt confused and unsure of his footing.

Angela impatiently cleared her throat to reclaim his attention as he sat floundering.

“What?” He gazed at her rather blankly.

Angela’s chin went up. “I asked you if dating Dana was something that you thought you wanted to do.”

Shawn’s eyes grew wary. “Of course not!” he exclaimed decisively. “W-What would make you think that?”

Angela unfurled her arms and spread her hands. “Well, if a couple of hours with your old girlfriends can make you doubt yourself and your feelings, I don’t think it’s that great a leap in logic to assume that you might feel like your missing out. I also find it interesting that out of the three of them you singled out Dana Pruitt.” She met his eyes unflinchingly.

Shawn bit his lip. He reached across the table to take her hand, but she pulled it away and laid both in her lap. He swallowed hard.

“Angela, honey, I-I only brought up Dana as an example,” he said hastily, gesticulating wildly with his hands as he was wont to do when upset. “You know, like-like you and Ted.”

Angela shook her head. “No, not like me and Ted, Shawn. Ted isn’t sucking on sour grapes like those girls are and wishing that he was you. Ted didn’t kidnap me or make me doubt our relationship in a little under two hours,” she argued, her voice growing hard. “Ted asked me to meet him here purely as a friend so that I could give him some advice about something he wanted to do for his new girlfriend.”

“Okay, so I was wrong,” Shawn conceded with visible relief. When Angela turned to the side, grabbing her book sack that resided on bench next to her, and slid it onto her shoulder, his heart started pounding as he realized what that signified. She quickly slid out of the booth and stood gazing down into his boyishly handsome but presently stunned face.

Shawn looked up at her, feeling a little dazed by the situation's rapid deterioration.

“L-Look, Angela, I-I know you’re mad,” he stuttered in his haste to speak, “and-and you have every—”

“Those girls got to you a little too easily, Shawn. I think you have some unresolved issues to work through,” she said icily.

Shawn stared up at her aghast at what was happening. “Angela—”

“I think you need to explore your feelings and figure out what you want,” she went on, just as though he hadn’t spoken. “When you do, give me a call.” He searched her pretty face for a sign of softening but found none. “Maybe I’ll be waiting, and maybe I won’t,” she declared, her voice quietly resolute before she spun around and swiftly walked away.

When she got near the stairs, Shawn finally found his voice. “Angela! I-wait!” She didn’t stop but hurried up the stairs, her half boots thundering on the steps as she ran up them.

He jumped up quickly, rushing over to the cellar exit only to be intercepted by Cory who put out his arms, catching Shawn by the shoulders.

“Cory, let me go!” Shawn struggled against him. “You don’t understand. Angela just broke up with me!”

“I heard.”

Shawn stopped fighting. “You did?” he asked, surprised.

“I was sitting at the table behind you, Shawnie,” Cory explained. “You were just too preoccupied to notice.”

Shawn pushed his hair out of his face. “Yeah, I was.” Piercing blue eyes bored into Cory’s brown. “Then you know that Angela broke up with me! She thinks I want to date Dana Pruitt!” He grabbed at Cory in a panic. “I don’t want to date Dana. I love Angela.”

“Well then, why did you tell her that you wanted to be friends last night?” Cory asked with exasperation.

For a minute Shawn couldn’t think of an adequate answer. His mind was blank. Why had he done that? he asked himself. He wasn’t even sure anymore. Angela had been more than understanding about the whole fiasco and hadn’t blamed him at all. Why hadn’t he just shut his mouth and gone with her?

“Well?” his best friend asked insistently.

Suddenly, the reason why he’d risked his and Angela’s growing relationship became murky and unclear.

“I don’t know, alright!” Shawn practically shouted at him. Then he realized that they were attracting attention, and he tore himself from Cory's grasp before heading back to the table where he threw himself into the booth. “All I could think about was everything those girls were saying about me. I guess maybe I said I wanted us to friends because I-I wanted to make sure that I didn’t hurt her, Cory.”

“Shawnie, that’s admirable, but you’re a guy.” After rescuing his barely touched burger and drink from the nearby table, Cory sat down where Angela had been seated. “And therefore, a card carrying member of the idiot breed. You’re practically programmed and predestined to hurt Angela in someway without even trying,” he informed him, his tone matter-of-fact. He grabbed the ketchup bottle, upended it and slathered his burger with its contents.

Shawn studied his friend's disgusting project with fascinated eyes.

“So next time, just relax and enjoy the quiet before the storm," Cory advised him helpfully. "Because ironically enough, while you were innocently laying the groundwork necessary not to hurt Angela, you unintentionally accomplished just that last night.”

Shawn’s heavy eyebrows snapped together. “What do you mean?”

“Hurting Angela. I think you did hurt her,” Cory said, clarifying his meaning. He returned the red plastic container to its resting place near the wall. “She doesn’t give much away, but I saw the look on her face when you said you wanted to change your relationship to just being friends.”

“I didn’t see anything.” This was news to him, but perhaps he’d been too wrapped up in trying to make amends to the other girls and preoccupied with his own feelings to notice Angela’s. What Cory had said about Angela was true though. She was intensely proud and would have tried to hide her hurt from him. “W-What did you see?”

“Um, she looked crushed to me, but maybe I noticed because I’m a little more sensitive after everything that’s happened between Topanga and me lately.” Cory dropped his eyes from the stunned expression Shawn’s face. “Has Angela ever told you how she feels about you?”

Shawn shook his head. “But I know she really likes me.” He had trouble controlling the blush that rose to stain his cheeks. “I-uh-I can tell.”

Cory grinned with understanding. He reached across the table and gave Shawn a congratulatory thump on the shoulder. “Have you told her that you love her?”

“Not-not in so many words,” he hedged. “I-I was too scared to tell her.”

“Maybe she’s afraid to tell you, too,” Cory speculated, “but I think Angela might be in love with you, and if you love her, I think now is the time to say it.”

Shawn pondered his words. “I don’t know, Cory.” He was clearly uncertain and didn’t know what to do. “It might be too soon. I never said anything because I didn’t want to scare her away.” He shrugged half-heartedly. “And after everything those girls said last night and now this today, I’m kinda confused. This is brand new territory for me.”

Cory sighed. He had to help Shawn; he deserved happiness after all the personal upheavals he’d suffered through in his eighteen years. Cory only wished his situation could be righted as easily.

“It’ll be alright, buddy,” he reassured him. “But I gotta tell you, you’ve really let those girls do a job on you. Shawn, my boy, I’m afraid those girls pulled a ‘First Wives Club' on ya.”

“Huh?” Shawn blinked at him in bewilderment.

“Remember the movie ‘The First Wives Club’ when the first wives of these three men who’d been treated badly by their husbands got even with each of them, generally making each man pay for all the wrong he had done them?”

Shawn nodded. He had a vague recollection of the movie Cory was referring to.

“I kinda remember hearing about it when it came out, but it’s a chick flick, man,” Shawn said with distaste, made evident by the curl of his lip. His voice also clearly questioned Cory’s assumption that he’d know anything about a movie like that. He even went as far as raising an inquiring eyebrow at Cory’s singular familiarity with such a female oriented movie.

Cory blushed. “I know. It’s one of my Mom’s favorite movies,” he offered reluctantly, appearing just a bit self-conscious under Shawn’s mocking stare. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat and returned to the subject at hand, “that’s what those girls attempted to do to you, Shawnie. They formed a ‘First Girlfriends’ Club’ just like those three women in the movie and decided to make you pay for the ‘wrongs’ you did to them.”

Shawn hung his head in his hands. “Even if that’s true, I can’t really blame them,” Shawn disagreed, his voice kind of muffled. “They were right. Cor, I’m-I’m not very good boyfriend material.”

Cory snorted. “Are you kidding me?” he scoffed. “You weren’t having these doubts until those girls brainwashed you last night.” He slammed his hand on the table for emphasis. “Those girls are jealous of what you and Angela have. Anyone could see that.” Shawn raised his head and appeared to be listening intently, so he continued, adding, “They resent the fact that you were actually going to keep your Valentine’s Day date with Angela when you didn’t with them.”

An alerted expression enlivened Shawn’s features.

Encouraged by his audience’s attentiveness, Cory went on. “Case in point: Didn’t you tell me that even though you told them you loved or cared about Angela it quickly became a case of ‘didn’t you care about me'?" he asked, unkindly mimicking them in an unflattering, high-pitched voice.

“Yeah!” Shawn cried. “It became all about them and not about protecting Angela like they said.”

Cory snorted. “Shawnie, if those girls were really only trying to protect Angela, why were they harping on that? What do they care if you cared about them or not since they’ve already established in their own minds that you’re a dog?” Shawn’s eyes narrowed as he thought back to last night. He was obviously viewing the circumstances of his “trial” in a vastly different light. Every nuance of conversation had taken on new meaning under Cory’s reasoning.

Cory pressed his advantage. “The answer is simple really,” he announced, sitting back against the hard wood of the booth’s bench. “They were jealous and envious.”

Shawn’s eyes widened as long overdue comprehension dawned on him. “Yeah!”

“When Angela wouldn’t believe them about you, they obviously hatched a plan devised to wreck your romantic evening with her. I bet even they never imagined just how successful they would be,” Cory postulated irately. He was thoroughly disgusted with the way those girls had set up his friend. Moreover, he had no doubts that their motives had been less than altruistic. “Not only did they happen to mess up last night, but they used your insecurity and fears about hurting Angela who they could see you were in love with against you. They must have been on cloud nine when you told Angela you wanted to be friends, and when she asked you where you wanted the friendship to go, you wouldn’t even say anything. All because you were afraid of making a promise to her that you couldn’t keep.” Winded, Cory made one more point before resting his case. “They accomplished more than they could have hoped for!”

Shawn stared at Cory aghast. “Those scheming, conniving little witches!” He exclaimed angrily. “Oh man, Cor. They got me good!”

Cory nodded sagely. “I don’t want to rub salt into the wound there, but Angela told you," he informed Shawn gently. "Women can read other women, Shawnie. She knew what they were doing all along, but you didn’t listen.”

Shawn didn't even attempt to argue with him. How could he? Being a normal, stubborn male, he hated being the recipient of an "I told you so" lecture; nevertheless, he'd been hoodwinked and with a vengeance.

“Yeah," he agreed, sighing, "They used Angela’s name to bait me into the trap because they knew that I would show up to be with her.” Then reality of the scheme and its ramifications occurred to him; the knowledge that those girls' allegations were now suspect led him to the alternate conclusion that perhaps he wasn’t as hopeless as a boyfriend as he'd previously believed. That thought cheered Shawn up immeasurably, but only for as long as it took him to realize that it didn’t matter because he didn’t have a girlfriend anymore.

Shawn groaned. “Cory, why didn’t you say something?” he demanded plaintively. “I let those—those girls get inside my head, and now I’ve messed up my relationship with Angela.”

“Calm down! It’s going to be alright.”

“Yeah, right.” Shawn passed a hand over his face. “You know I don’t know anything about being in a serious relationship," he muttered pessimistically. "I gave those harpies the benefit of the doubt. I really thought they were being sincere!”

Cory shrugged and inclined his head. “They were: sincerely resentful of the fact that you were treating Angela better than you ever treated them.” He held up a hand in concession. “I’m not saying that the way you treated them was right, but you’ve clearly grown past that because of what you feel for Angela.” He shrugged again and bit into his burger. “And they didn’t like it.”

“How can you eat after what’s happened?” Shawn grumbled irritably, eyeing Cory’s burger with revulsion.

Cory sighed. “I’m still a growing boy, and I’m hungry. I was too busy eavesdropping on you guys before to really do it justice. You have to admit it’s a fascinating study in a conversation gone horribly wrong.” He broke off a large piece of his burger and raised his eyebrows in inquiry. “You want a piece?”

Shawn was gazing down at his hands morosely. He hunched his shoulders but didn’t look up. “Why not?”

Cory handed him half of his burger. The two munched in silence until the sandwich was gone. Cory pushed his drink across the table. Shawn drank half, and Cory finished the rest.

“So what’s your next step?” He wiped his mouth and tossed his crumpled napkin down onto his plate.

“I don’t know,” Shawn mumbled. “I mean, Angela and I have only been together a little over three months, and I’ve already screwed things up.” His eyes were troubled. “She’s convinced herself that I want to start dating Dana again. Why would she get all freaked out about her?”

“Well, you did mention asking her out on a date.” Shawn opened his mouth to correct him and he rushed on hastily to amend his statement. “Hypothetically speaking.”

Only somewhat mollified, Shawn settled down to ponder his own question. After a moment, when no answer was forthcoming from Shawn, Cory answered it for him.

“Look, Shawnie, it’s not that hard to figure out. Angela and Topanga are best friends.”

“So?” he asked, not getting where Topanga came into this mess.

“Think, Shawnie.” Cory tapped his temple. “Topanga knows the history of your relationships with all three of those girls.” He began to tick them off on his fingers. “Let’s examine them. First, you have Libby what’s-her-name who out of the three was the least important. Not to be mean, but you met her on a blind date when I went over to Missy Robinson’s house that time. She immediately started hitting on you.”

Shawn thought back to that night. “Yeah! Hey, that’s right.” Shawn’s detail sluggish memory had been sufficiently jogged. “She came onto me. She started sucking on my ear.” He held out his palms and shrugged. “Hey, I’m a guy. What was I supposed to do?”

“Exactly.” Cory grinned at him, but cleared his throat quickly, sobering in order to return to his trial-like summation. “Remember she persuaded you to go upstairs while Missy and I stayed in the basement.”

“And I what I don’t remember is making Libby any promises. She lied on me, counting on the fact that I wouldn’t remember!” He squinted thoughtfully and then grinned sheepishly. “She was a good kisser though,” he admitted candidly.

“But that’s not the point,” Cory admonished him. “Stay focused, Shawnie. You’re entire relationship with Angela may be at stake.”

“Sorry.” Shawn nodded and quickly sobered, giving Cory the respect his efforts to help him deserved.

Cory nodded, satisfied. “Next, we have Jennifer Bassett.”

An involuntarily shudder shook Shawn’s thin frame. That had been the only the second relationship he’d ever been involved in. He’d officially christened it “the relationship from hell”. Not all the sexy, red sports cars, blond hair and long legs in the world could make that association anything other than a miserable and nerve wracking aberration on his part.

“Do we have to re-live my temporary insanity in dating that crazy girl?” he asked Cory, begging for a ‘no’.

“Well, I agree that you weren’t thinking with your head that time, that’s for sure,” Cory said ironically. “But yes,” he added affirmatively, “I’m afraid we do, Shawnie,”

A deep sigh escaped Shawn. “Okay. Let’s get that nightmare over with.”

Cory nodded sympathetically. He had even less love for the egotistical and vindictive Jennifer Bassett. She’d almost succeeded in coming in between him and his best friend all because Cory had called her out for breaking up with Shawn the first time for no apparent reason.

Presently, he only said, "Jennifer Bassett broke up with you and then only started dating you again to get back at me for talking about her to you. She broke up with you a second time when you decided that you didn’t want to be manipulated into choosing between her and your friends,” Cory said, listing the damaging evidence against the absent but complicit ex-girlfriend. “So whatever plans you made with her for Valentine’s Day were nullified when she broke up with you, Shawnie. You’re not to blame for the demise of that so-called relationship.”

Shawn nodded enthusiastically, impressed with Cory’s analysis so far.

“Now on to Dana Pruitt.”

Some of Shawn’s growing complacency evaporated with the mention of Dana, and he even had the grace to look a little shamefaced. Of the three ex-girlfriends, only his relationship with her had had substance.

“Here’s where the problem lies, Shawnie,” Cory proclaimed, almost reading his mind. “You did have a real relationship with Dana. Your first serious one, in fact, even if it didn’t last all that long.”

“Yeah, I cared about Dana, Cor. Out of those three girls, she’s really the only one who has a legitimate beef with me.” He looked down at his hands as they fidgeted with things on the table. “But even though I cared about her, it wasn’t deep enough on my part to sustain the kind of commitment she wanted. And so one day,” he began slowly, “I just stopped calling. I admit that I should have handled that better.”

Cory inclined his head, conceding that point, but he resolutely steer the conversation back to its subject matter and from veering off course. “Well, that brings us back to the question of why Angela had such a problem with you mentioning going out with Dana.” Shawn looked upset. Cory held up a hand to prevent an outburst. “I know, I know. You only used her as an example to explain how you felt about seeing Angela with Ted.”

“Angela has nothing to be jealous of,” Shawn assured him, meeting Cory’s inquiring gaze head-on. “Besides, I never mentioned anything about my relationship with Dana to Angela. I might not be experienced in relationships, but I know a little something about women; and I’m not that stupid.”

Cory gazed at him benevolently just as though he was a backward but well-meaning child. For all his experience with the opposite sex, Shawn was still a novice when it came to jealous women because of his limited experience with relationships. Then thinking about his own current dilemma with Topanga, Cory instantly felt less smug. However, he pushed his own troubles to the side and concentrated solely on helping his friend.

“Maybe that’s the crux of the problem, Shawnie. You’re going to have to explain what happened to your relationship with Dana. That even though you did care for her, it wasn’t that deep for you in the first place. Make her understand that there are no leftover feelings for Dana.”

Looking thoughtful, Shawn nodded slowly.

Cory sat back and fiddled with his empty cup, watching the light from overhead reflect in its textured amber glass as he pondered Shawn’s situation. “Besides, you’ve got to know that Topanga has probably given Angela the scoop on these girls. If not the others, then certainly Dana,” he pointed out, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “My guess is Angela’s probably known about her since you two started going out together.”

Shawn looked at him sharply. “Has Topanga said anything to you?” he asked urgently. “Anything that would make you think that?”

Cory smirked. “Of course not. But they’re girls, Shawn. That’s what they do; they gossip about us,” he said dryly.

Shawn threw up his hands in defeat. “Then I’m toast with Angela. She'll never believe that I don't have residual feelings for Dana after talking to Topanga.” He slumped down in the booth. “And with Topanga being down on men right now,” he favored Cory with a hard stare, “we’re both probably being roasted over a spit of hot coals as I speak!”

“Yeah, probably,” Cory agreed without hesitation, much to Shawn’s dismay.

Shawn glared at him. “Well, you’re the relationship expert. Help me out here.”

Cory ran his hands over the smooth, shellacked surface of the thick wooden table, his expression somber. “Considering the state of my relationship, Shawnie, I wouldn’t exactly call myself an expert.”

“Yeah, well. You may be right, but you know more than I do at this point,” Shawn murmured, and propped an elbow on the table. His fingers threaded through his thick brown hair. “In fact, you’re a genius compared to me. I haven’t even done anything. I didn’t kiss another girl, and I still got dumped.”

Cory gazed at Shawn with compassion as he studied his defeated expression. “Look, your situation isn’t as bad as mine. I heard Angela telling you to call her when you decided what you wanted. At least she’s still willing, for now, to take you back. Just don’t wait too long, Shawnie.”

“I’m not going to wait at all. I don’t want to be just friends with her. What happened today and everything you’ve said has shown me that I really do love Angela. I loved her when she was just the purse girl, and in the last three months, I’ve grown to know her so much better.” His gaze was earnest. “I’m really crazy about her, Cor.”

There was so much more to their relationship than even he’d realized before the other night. It was certainly deeper than any he’d ever had before. He and Angela talked more than they made out. He’d never experienced that with any girl before. Not even Dana. Yet on the other hand, it wasn’t like they didn’t make out plenty because they did. Angela was so pretty, and she fit in his arms like she was made for them. He adored her lips, and Shawn anticipated being close to her because she always had this heavenly scent that just made him want to bury his face in her fragrant hair and neck. He found himself having to keep a really tight rein on his emotions—and his hands—because he didn’t want Angela to think that he was just out for what he could get.

“I really am in love with her,” he repeated softly, mostly to himself.

“I know.” Cory smiled. “I’ve seen you two together. Shawnie’s really in love at last.”

“Yeah, ain’t that a kick in the head.” He returned Cory’s smile with a lopsided one of his own, but his was a little self-mocking. “I told you yesterday that I was afraid I would screw up Valentine’s Day, but I never imagined just how spectacular a screw up it would be." He shook his head unable to believe the magnitude of the mess he was in. "Man, I’ve made mistakes before, but I’ve really outdone myself with this one.”

Cory waved a dismissive hand.

“Buck up, Shawnie. Give Angela a call, and see if she’ll talk to you,” Cory suggested. He began to slide out from underneath the table. He had homework to do, and he needed to get home. “I need you two on my side. I’ve got a lot more work to do if I’m going to get Topanga back, and I need all the reinforcements I can get. Not only that, but if my girlfriend’s best friend is soured on guys, too, that isn’t going to help me anymore than it’ll help you.”

Shawn pondered the wisdom of Cory’s words and firmly announced that he was on it. Although he was nervous—just the thought of calling Angela and having her shoot him down made his heart hurt— he would phone her that night and hope for the best. He would see if he couldn’t mend the fences he’d damaged the previous night and this afternoon. It was worth a try, and Angela was definitely worth the effort.

Chapter Two

Angela threw her book bag down onto her desk, pulled off her coat, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of grey suede, and cast herself down onto her bed. She drummed her feet and pounded her hands on the soft material covering the firm mattress, so angry she could hardly think straight. Who did Shawn Hunter think he was anyway? Just because he was gorgeous and sexy with great hair did he think that that meant that she didn’t know her own worth? Angela wondered furiously. The cathartic temper tantrum over, she flopped over and stared up at the ceiling as tears of anger and hurt welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision before seeping out of the corners onto her overheated face. She lay there, still and listless, going over everything that had happened in the last two days. How happy she’d been when Shawn had asked her out for Valentine’s Day. How sweet and tender the kiss on the couch had been after he’d said that he would never lie to her and that he would never disappoint her. Of course, she remembered now, that that had been in response to her inquiry on whether or not he would lie to her when he’d admitted that Cory had lied to Topanga about kissing the ski lodge attendant, Lauren, on his advice. What assurance did she have presently that he wasn’t lying yet again and this time about his feelings for Dana Pruitt? Had a renewed interest in his ex-girlfriend been the impetus for suddenly wanting to be “friends”? Angela’s fertile imagination began to go round and round, over and under all the possibilities that could have contributed to the broken state of their relationship.

Forty-five minutes later, the door bell rang. Some time during her ruminations, Angela had rolled onto her side and fallen asleep in her favorite sleeping position. As the sound of the doorbell sounded again, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. There was no one home to answer the door but her. Her Dad had left town that morning for a week long Army recruiting drive in Pittsburgh at some of the local colleges there.

She jumped up as the visitor became impatient and leaned on the button, making it go off multiple times.

"Okay, okay!” Angela called out as she ran down the steps and landing to the living room. “I’m coming. Just give me a minute, will you?”

She peered through the peephole and sighed with relief. It had occurred to her on the trip to the door that it might be Shawn, and he was the last person that she wanted to see at that moment. However, that worry proved to be moot as she opened the door and got her first glimpse of her visitor. A genuinely welcoming smile curved her lips.

“Topanga,” she said with feeling, taking the girl's arm and drawing her inside. “How did you know that I needed you?”

Angela’s best friend stepped over the threshold and rolled her eyes. “You guys were at Chubbie's; need I say more?” She took off her coat which Angela took and hung on the coat tree near the door. Topanga held onto to her purse and book bag. “Practically within the hour, I had the whole thing from at least two people who were there. They talked about it during step class for the entire time we were exercising.” Topanga grinned facetiously. “I don't think they stopped to take a breath. They must be in good shape. I’ll give them that.”

Angela sighed with exasperation. “Our classmates must really not have any business of their own,” she complained hotly. “So did they get any of the details right?”

Topanga shrugged and followed Angela up the stairs. “Enough for me to know that you broke up with Shawn over Dana Pruitt. You should have seen all the hair tossing and lip glossing going on with the girls in our class as soon as the word got around.”

Angela pursed her soft lips for a infinitesimal moment. “Well, they’ll have to get in line behind Dana Pruitt,” she said acidly. “Still, that’s what I get for conducting a personal conversation at Philadelphia's equivalent of the Grand Central Station.”

Topanga glanced at her sympathetically. “Chubbie’s does have the most vocal grapevine I’ve ever come across.”

They sat down on her bed, and Topanga got a good look at her friend. She saw the traces of dried tears, and reaching out, she covered the hands that sat clenched in Angela’s lap with one of her own.

“How’re you holding up?” was her gentle query.

Angela shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m fine, Topanga,” she said evenly. And then as though unable to stop herself, she burst out with, “Why did I ever get involved with him? Shawn Hunter’s no prize. I mean, just his background alone. And-And he’s such a underachieving slacker. Look how he just wastes his potential. He deliberately does the bare minimum to get by in school. And here I was dating the co-captain of the football team.” She looked up at her friend, her dark eyes shining with moisture. “Do you know how many Big Ten and Pack Ten colleges are after Ted? He could even get into an Ivy League school if he wanted to. He might not be uber cool, but h-he, at least, has really good grades. W-What girl in their right mind would want someone like Shawn?!”

Topanga licked her lips. “Well, to answer your original question: maybe you got involved with Shawn because he’s one of the cutest guys in school,” her friend suggested craftily. “Or because he’s reputed to be a great kisser.”

Angela cut her eyes at her. “I’ve dated tons of cute guys, Topanga. That’s hardly the reason,” she retorted, contradicting her. “And even though I didn’t kiss all of them, several were outstanding kissers.” She tossed her head defiantly. “So—so phooey on Shawn Hunter and his overrated kisses!”

“My point exactly.” Topanga concurred with unimpaired composure. “You were intrigued by Shawn ever since you two sat together in Feeny’s Film class last semester. Did you think I missed the sparks between you guys?” She raised her eyebrow as Angela’s cheeks showed a hint of red under its chocolate tone and her eyes slid away. “All the back and forth of pens and pencils for no good reason when both of you had your own. Oh, and let’s not forget the lingering glances and coy smiles. Cory and I used to joke about it. Every time I turned around one of you was looking at the other out of the corner of your eye while pretending to pay attention to Feeny’s lecture.” Topanga shrugged nonchalantly. “It was only a matter of time before you two got together. That’s why I couldn’t believe it when both of you just casually agreed to walk away from each other on account of the stupid two week dating rule you each had in place at the time.”

Angela’s lips parted, but she couldn’t think of a glib comeback, and so closed them with an audible snap.

Topanga smiled inwardly. She was going to take full advantage of her friend’s unaccustomed tongue-tied state.

“Then how about this: Maybe you took a chance on him because you were falling in love with him but were too afraid of getting hurt to admit it?” Topanga’s blue eyes were empathetic.

Disgruntled by Topanga’s bluntness, she pulled her hands away and ignored that last theory, choosing to address the previous comment.

“Yeah, well, in hindsight my ‘stupid” two week rule seems like a really good idea right now,” she remarked sharply, with more than a little impatience in her voice. “Shawn hasn’t changed, and he never will. And to think I was blaming those girls. They only saw what I was too weak and stupid to s-see for myself. I was a fool to ever think he would be anything other than what he’s always been.”

Topanga was watching her with real concern. Angela was working herself up in to a real frenzy, she thought, unconsciously biting one manicured finger anxiously.

Angela was normally a very private person who kept a lot of her feelings to herself. Even she, her best friend, could only get so much out of her. Topanga was glad that she felt she could confide in her so openly, but this sudden purging of emotions while gratifying was worrying nonetheless.

On the spur of the moment, she opted to try a little experiment and see if it worked.

“I have to agree with everything you said so far, Ange,” she said, wagging her head woefully. “I've known Shawn since grade school. He's trailer trash, plain and simple, and always will be." She shrugged dismissively. "Anyone with any sense knows that someone with his unstable upbringing would have to be a bad bet in a relationship.”

Angela's bowed head jerked upright; the scowl on her face was ferocious. “Shawn is not trailer trash, Topanga. How dare you say that about him!” Angela regarded her ex-boyfriend's detractor indignantly. “Where he’s lived doesn’t define who he is,” she argued in his defense, “and has nothing to do with his ability or inability to sustain a relationship.”

Topanga bit her lip and held her tongue; but something in her eyes gave her away. Subsequently, Angela caught on to her little stratagem just as Topanga had intended she should.

“Ooh, you think you’re so clever,” she accused Topanga furiously, realizing that she’d been setup, “and I should have known you’d be on Shawn’s side even though you know, firsthand, how I feel because of everything Cory’s done.”

“Ange, I know you’re upset, and from just the little I’ve heard, you have every right to be, but Shawn’s nothing like what those girls are saying he is,” she protested, loyally and honestly defending her other friend. “I’ve never seen him as devoted to any one girl as he is to you." Topanga's blue eyes held her friend's dark brown. "You're in love with the guy, Angela. Just admit it.”

Angela’s response was to get up, wrap her arms around her waist and began to pace around her fairly spacious bedroom.

“What I'll admit to is that Shawn's an immature jerk who can’t even think for himself much less carry on a serious relationship.” She sniffed unhappily. “I’m glad I dumped the j-junior l-league C-C-Casanova!” she wailed and began to sob quietly into her hands.

Topanga jumped up and hugged her hurting friend. Angela had done as much for her yesterday when she’d learned of Cory’s treachery with that girl Lauren. And now, less than a full day later, here they were again. But this time it was Shawn who was the offending culprit.

Men! Topanga thought derisively. What were they good for except causing trouble?!

“Shush,” she cooed as Angela’s head lay on her shoulder. “Or you’re going to make me cry.” Angela wept a little harder. “We’ll get each other through this. I promise.” Topanga comforted her as best she could, murmuring soothing, unintelligible sounds and gently patting her back.

Angela hiccoughed and swallowed. She raised her head and looked at her friend. “I’m so self-centered, Topanga. Thinking only of myself when you’re hurting just as badly—probably more since you and Cory have been together much longer,” she remarked, chiding herself for her insensitivity while wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Topanga went to Angela’s vanity on the other side of the room near her walk-in closet and picked up a box of tissues from its surface. She pulled off several of the thin wispy papers, went back to Angela and pressed them into her hand.

“I can’t believe this happened with you guys right on the heels of my breakup with Cory,” she said, chagrined at the unfairness of fate. She watched Angela gently dab at her tears and sighed gustily. “It’s been so great having you and Shawn to go out with and do things with as couples. I was so happy when you two stopped dancing around each other and actually started going out."

Angela snorted. “We’d still be sneaking glances and dropping pens if I'd left it up to Shawn,” she scoffed; however, she was surprised to find that Topanga took the news in stride.

“Shawn's only a smooth operator when his heart isn't involved. He's only shy when he really, really likes a girl," she revealed, corroborating Angela's statement. "Not that that’s happened very often.” Then realizing where the conversation was leading, she judiciously closed her mouth and looked down at her hands.

Angela finished wiping her eyes and blew her nose. “You’re referring to Dana Pruitt, I suppose?” she asked acerbically. “I can’t imagine what he saw in her.” Even in her anger, Angela realized that denouncing someone she really didn’t know was unfair. Her face grew hot and she somewhat flustered, but nonetheless, she added fiercely, “I just don’t trust that innocent face of hers anymore than I can throw her.” Her hand involuntarily clenched around the sodden wad of tissues.

“I don’t blame you. She was absolutely crazy about Shawn,” Topanga admitted with brutal candor. “I’m not saying that to hurt you, Ange, but I think that out of all those girls, she might be the most dangerous. Not because Shawn still has feelings for her,” she added hastily when she saw the devastated look on Angela’s face, “but because of his insecurities. They weren’t together as long as you two were, but long enough her to be able to see what his weaknesses are. She could continue to use them against him just as they all did last night.”

“Well, I don’t care what she does. The ball's in Shawn’s court,” Angela said with a prideful toss of her short cork screw curls. She stalked over to the waste basket near her desk, throwing the crumbled paper into its depths before whirling around. “If he wants me, then he’s going to have to come to me…” Her voice trailed off and the sharpness dissipated from her features as they and her voice softened noticeably, “…just like he did when I was still dating Ted.”

At that moment and as though on cue, the phone rang and both girls simultaneously turned their heads to stare at it. It rang again, and Topanga turned back to Angela a question in her eyes. “It might be Shawn.”

“Or my Dad, more likely,” Angela responded reasonably. “I told you that he was away for the week. But if it’s him, he’ll call back tonight. We always talk before I go to bed when he’s away on these recruiting assignments. It's his way of checking up on me." She shook her head at the overprotectiveness of her father. "Anyway, the answering machine will catch it.” She crossed her arms, and in spite of her seeming nonchalance, her eyes avidly watched the ringing phone as though it were living, breathing entity.

Topanga nodded as the third ring sounded. After the fourth ring, just as Angela predicted, the answering machine automatically intercepted the call. Angela drew in her breath as Shawn’s voice, as clear as if he stood in the room with them, emerged through the tiny speaker.

“Angela, this is Shawn. If you’re there, pick up, please. Angela, we really need to talk. I know we can straighten this thing out if you’ll just talk to me. You said I could call when I had figured out what I wanted. Well, I have.” There was a pause. She could hear a commotion in the background and assumed it was either Jack or Eric probably teasing or taunting him. “Will you leave me alone!” he grumbled angrily, his voice a little distant as though the phone wasn’t poised near to his mouth. Then he said hastily, his voice clear once more, “Not you, Angela. That was, um, Eric."

Angela could just picture him hunching his shoulders and cupping his hand around the phone's mouthpiece to keep from being overheard in an effort to avoid more of his roommate's harassment.

"Uh, anyway, I really think we need to talk.” Another awkward pause ensued in which Eric's voice audibly warned him, “It’s going to cut you off soon, dude.” Then Shawn, speaking as fast as she’d ever heard him, hastily finished up his message. “Please call me back as soon as you get this. Things shouldn’t have ended the way they did last night or today at Chubbie’s. Please call me. Oh, um, this is Shawn. B-Bye.” The call ended with a decisive click.

Angela exhaled loudly and threw her head back, a pained expression marring her pretty face. She inhaled several deep and calming breaths, each time exhaling slowly and deliberately.

Topanga sat down on the bed. She looked up at the solemn face of the other girl. “Angela, Shawn sounds awful. I don’t think he’s interested in dating Dana Pruitt,” she stated quietly. “Not from what I heard anyway.”

However, the exchange of confidences and disclosures was clearly at an end for when Angela opened her eyes, she immediately straightened and headed for the door. Once there, she stood in the doorway facing Topanga, her mood patently subdued.

Topanga took swift stock of her. Obviously, Angela had been affected by Shawn’s message. She just didn’t know what that effect was or what it meant for the couple's chances of reconciliation. Angela’s soft voice drew her from this train of thought.

“I think we should get started on our homework,” she suggested lightly. “I’m ravenous all of the sudden. Do you want a snack? Or something to drink. I’m just going to hop down to the kitchen for a minute." She gestured for Topanga to join her. "Want to come?” She smiled for the second time since she’d run away from Chubbie’s. Her friend was relieved to see that it smacked of the old Angela and had a hint of the playful charm with which she was familiar. “How about that turkey Dagwood that you made for us when we pulled that all nighter for Feeny’s English mid-term?”

“Okay,” Topanga answered affirmatively, rising from where she sat on Angela’s bed. “One turkey Dagwood, coming up.”

Angela’s smile widened when her shameless ploy to rope Topanga into making the ten-inch high, mega sandwich prevailed.

The two girls headed down the hall to the back stairs that led to the Moore’s galley style kitchen. Neither said anything more about Shawn or Cory as they gathered the ingredients necessary for constructing a first class Dagwood sandwich. For the rest of the evening, until Topanga went home, they ate and then worked on their respective homework assignments. However, every time the phone rang, Angela was reminded that her present quandary could be avoided for only so long. Tomorrow would bring with it either a new beginning or certain end. Only this time, Angela wasn’t entirely sure, for the first time since she and Shawn had begun dating exclusively, exactly which outcome she wanted.

~*~ 

Dana Pruitt set the phone down with a soft smile of hope curving her lips. A very interesting rumor was making the rounds. By tomorrow, everyone in John Adams High would know that Shawn Hunter and Angela Moore had broken up. Popular opinion attributed the break up to her. Even as a little frisson of excitement shot down her spine, Dana remembered Shawn’s adamant assertion that he loved Angela. Still, before they’d left the boathouse, he had said to Angela that he wanted to change their relationship and be friends. That wasn’t exactly what you told the person you were in love with, Dana thought happily. On tomorrow, she would make her move. She’d never dreamed that she might possibly have another chance with Shawn. It hadn’t been until dumb Jennifer Bassett and even dumber Libby Anderson had decided to teach Shawn a lesson that the idea had even occurred to her.

She collapsed upon her bed writhing with laughter. Shawn had never been the least interested in either of them. Dana was certain that she and Angela had been the only girlfriends to whom he’d ever given his heart. However, in her own case, she recollected, the laughter dying on her lips, it had been briefly bestowed and much too quickly snatched away. When Shawn broke up with her, she had still been in love with him. Now, after the Valentine’s Day caper, Dana acknowledged that she still had major feelings for him. She only hoped that deep down maybe Shawn had discovered that he, too, had never really gotten over her and had broken up with her prematurely.

Her mind wandered to Angela and even though she regretted having to cause another girl pain, she didn’t regret it enough to give up her shot at getting Shawn back. Just the thought of being with him again made her feel all tingling inside. She stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom dreamily. Instead of Angela, it would be her books he carried in between their classes; her who would sit with him in the senior corner and at Chubbie’s making out and whispering sweet nothings to each other; and she would be the one whom he told everyone he loved. She admitted now how she’d resented seeing them together especially when they were making out. Shawn running his hands over and through Angela’s dark curls, holding her face to his as he kissed her. He was a very hands-on type of guy. She remembered how he had been with her, but she’d been too shy to engage in those types of open mouthed kisses that she’d witnessed them sharing. Dana sighed with regret before shaking it off. She would have another chance, and this time she wouldn’t be so repressed in showing her emotions. Nor would she be so retiring on the morrow. She would let Shawn know in no uncertain terms that she wanted to be his girlfriend again. And after what she’d just been told by one of her friends, she was hopeful that she would be successful. Feeling sufficiently ruthless, Dana smiled with satisfaction. Angela Moore wouldn’t know what had hit her. She was a rival that had to be removed. It was as simple as that.

While both Jennifer and Libby had made it plain, when no one else was around, that although they liked Angela as a person, they deeply resented Shawn preferring a black girl to them: two spoiled, blonde princesses. Dana was contemptuous of their bigotry. For her part, she didn’t want any other girl to have Shawn, if she could help it, and it didn’t matter what the complexion of her skin was either. To her, Angela was just an obstacle in her way, and now thanks to the harebrained scheme of her kidnapping accomplices, she was going to win Shawn back. Whether he knew it or not.

Chapter Three

Early the next day, Shawn hurried over to Cory as he stood by the coffee maker in the senior corner. Hearing the familiar tread of heavy biker boots on the hallway floor made him look up as Shawn rounded the corner. The loose grey shirt he wore flew away from his body, revealing a black cotton tee that contrasted with the dark blue baggy jeans that hung low on his hips. Cory assumed that he’d already been to his locker where he’d left his leather jacket and back pack. He was carrying a book and a single notebook which he tossed down onto the coffee table as he strode over to his friend. He looked harried and like he hadn’t slept well. Mauve shadows marred the pale skin under his eyes.

Cory’s smile faded. “Shawnie, what’s the matter?”

“Have you seen Topanga this morning?” he asked straightaway. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and gazed at Cory anxiously.

Cory shook his head. “No. Why?”

Chagrined, he turned his head away for a brief moment. “I was hoping Angela was with her.” He sounded frustrated.

“Didn’t you get everything straightened out last night?” He picked up the coffee pot and filled two cups of coffee.

“No. If Angela was home, she wouldn’t answer her phone.” He took the warm cup that Cory held out to him. “And she didn’t return any of my messages,” Shawn replied, turning around and heading for the old sea green couch. He flopped down, and Cory took a seat next to him. “I just can’t believe how bad everything has gotten between Angela and me. We were so happy just two days ago.” He hung his head, his attitude glum.

“I know, Shawnie. Boy, you know that I know how quickly a situation can go south,” he said, commiserating with his hurting friend.

Shawn reared back on the couch wearily and an unexpected yawn split his face. “I stopped calling just before eleven o’clock,” he explained, rubbing his tired eyes. ‘I didn’t want to get her Dad mad at me.” One corner of his mouth lifted cynically. “I’m not sure he even likes me as it is.” He thought about Angela’s stern military father with a bit of apprehension. Unlike him and his Dad, Angela was close to her often absent father. He wasn’t altogether certain that his failure to meet her father after going out for three months solid didn’t have its roots in his being white. He sighed and put that problem aside for the moment, returning to the more pressing matter at hand. He turned his head and met Cory’s attentive gaze. “I had to have left like a hundred messages, Cor. There’s no way she didn’t get one of them.” Then in an effort to look on the bright side, he added with a hopeful note in his voice, “I guess she could have been over at Topanga’s house commiserating. That’s as good an explanation as any,” he said to himself, and actually began to feel a little better. “I mean, there’s no reason for her to ignore my calls.”

Cory hadn’t been listening to him. He’d been pondering the workings of the answering machine. He finally thought he had the solution.

“No machine can store that many messages,” Cory announced pragmatically. “The queue would fill up and reject the new ones well before that. So that would mean she was either listening to them as you left them or…” He glanced away from Shawn.

Shawn turned his head to look at him. “Or what?” He heard himself asking. When Cory hesitated, he pressed him for an answer. “Well?”

“Or she just erased a bunch of them at certain intervals without listening to them,” he pointed out reluctantly, looking down at his hands, “which would explain the machine recording the newer ones. She would erase those after a certain time, too.”

Shawn stared at him balefully and then threw up his hands. “Oh well, that’s great. And here I was actually feeling a little better. You really know how to cheer a guy up, Cor,” he flung at him sarcastically. "Next time. Don't help me."

Cory hastily tried to regain lost ground and make amends for his plain speaking.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” In spite of his chirper tone, Cory was beginning to get a little worried about Shawn. Although Shawn had admitted to his feelings yesterday, Cory hadn’t quite realized its import. He’d never seen him this worked up over a girl before. This was indeed a new side of Shawn: a guy who was in genuinely in love with someone. Everything had better work out between him and Angela, he mused, as he watched Shawn absently sip his coffee and periodically run his hand through his hair as was his habit.

Hiding his concern under façade of cheerfulness, Cory added with false note of cheerfulness, “You’ll see her this morning for sure when we have class. Just remember: Nothing’s happened that can’t be fixed.” He winked at Shawn confidently.

“Yeah, nothing that can’t be fixed,” Shawn repeated tonelessly, scratching his ear. “Except the fact that I’m an idiot screw up. I wish that could be fixed.”

Just as Cory was going to voice his disagreement with Shawn’s harsh assessment of himself, the bell rang and both of them got up to go off to their individual classes.

Shawn spent the better part of the morning in between classes lurking in the hallway keeping an eye out for Angela. Since he and Angela had several of their classes on the same floor, he dawdled as long as he could until the final bells sounded, just making it into those classes on time by the skin of his teeth.

By the time second lunch period had rolled around, Shawn was a bundle of nerves. He and Cory met up in the cafeteria at the lunch counter. After selecting what they wanted to eat, they made their way over to their usual table at the far side of the large room. He saw Topanga on the other side sitting with three girls that were vaguely familiar. Angela was nowhere in sight. Still, hoping to find out where Angela was and what was going on with her, he hurried over and stood by her side, waiting until she finished up with what she was saying before interrupting her lunch.

Topanga felt the presence of someone standing next to her. However, if that hadn’t been tip off enough, the sudden appearance of coy smiles on the faces of the three girls—two blondes and one chestnut haired brunette—sitting with her and the complete loss of their attention would have been sufficient. Her voice drifted off, and the turning of her head coincided with Shawn speaking.

“Topanga, have you seen Angela today?” he asked urgently, totally oblivious to the admiring looks, dazzling smiles and flirty hair flips being directed at him. “Is she sick or something? I haven’t seen her all day.”

Topanga’s blue eyes regarded him long enough for him to gather that she knew about the most recent developments in her friends’ relationship: namely Angela’s dumping him because of Dana Pruitt. In her loyalty to her best friend and fellow female, she exuded a quiet hostility.

Gradually, Shawn became of aware of the interested gazes of the other girls at the table. Misinterpreting them completely, he plunged ahead, deciding that he didn’t have the luxury of pride.

“Come on, Topanga,” he asked imploringly. “I-It’s not what you think. You know me.”

Topanga gazed at him a moment longer and then relented. He saw the tension leave her body and sent up a silent thank you for what seemed to him like providential intercession.

“Angela had a doctor’s appointment this morning, Shawn. She should be here by fifth period though .” She glanced around the table and got up. Grabbing hold of his arm, she moved a little ways away from the spectators.

Shawn had been relieved to learn that Angela’s absence was unrelated to anything of a serious nature. And not only was she okay, but he would see her today and get this thing straightened out. The last two days had been bad enough what with Cory and Topanga on the outs—the couple upon whom he’d first modeled his relationship with Angela—but for both couples to be on the brink of extinction simultaneously was proving to be too much for his poor, inexperienced heart to take.

“Now,” Topanga began, crossing her arms over her ample chest, “what is going on with you, Shawn? Even though I told Angela that I didn’t believe you were that stupid, I need to hear from you that you aren’t really going to throw away your relationship with her to take up with Dana Pruitt again!” She glared at him suspiciously on behalf of her absent friend. “And if you are, let me remind you that she couldn’t hold you the first time, so what would make you think this time will be different?” Shawn opened his mouth to reply, but she hadn’t finished with him. “Do you have any idea how many guys would love to be in your shoes? We can't go anywhere without guys coming up to hit on her,” she said caustically. “Why is it you men always think that there’s something better—”

“Topanga! Would you let me get a word in?” Shawn grabbed her shoulders. “Look at me.” He stared into her eyes intently. “I promise I’m not interested in Dana,” he swore quietly, his voice firm. “She means absolutely nothing to me. Angela completely misunderstood. I love her.” He hadn’t intended on Angela’s best friend hearing that declaration before she did, but it slipped out, and thankfully, worked in his favor. Topanga’s wrathful expression cleared miraculously. “And believe me, I’m well aware of the number of guys that would kill me for a chance be with Angela.” That last statement had a conspicuously disgruntled quality to it. Shawn had seen firsthand guys sidling up to Angela right in front of him when they had first begun dating in earnest, unknowingly risking a beat down from the white boy they were so grossly underestimating. The blatant disrespect had stopped, or so Angela believed, once it had become known that he was more than just another of her “temporary, two week boyfriends”. Shawn more correctly attributed it to word having gotten around that Angela’s white boyfriend could more than handle himself in a fight.

Presently, as Topanga gazed searched Shawn’s face, there was no doubting the sincerity she saw in the deep set blue eyes, and his voice had held a note of conviction that she couldn’t discount.

“Well, if that’s true,” she conceded grudgingly, poking him in the chest with one pointed fingernail, “you better make sure that you clear this thing up fast, Shawn. Remember, you’re the one who initially wanted a real relationship. If she thinks about it too long, I’m not sure that Angela will want to risk it again after this—this craziness with your ex-girlfriends.” She looked at him through eyes narrowed with exasperation. “Especially after the way you reacted.”

Shawn involuntarily clutched her shoulders even harder. He dipped his head to look into her face. “Why? I mean, has she said something to you about not wanting a relationship anymore?” he asked with such anxiousness in his voice that Topanga unconsciously unbent even more towards him. Her stern expression softened, and she placed her hands over his, gently removing their vise-like grip.

A rueful smiled curved her lips. “She hasn’t come right out and said that, no,” she admitted, “but take it from me; the longer you let this misunderstanding fester, the more risk there is of it not working out between you guys.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that she was thinking about Cory and their Lauren problem.

Shawn shook her arm to get her mind back to his dilemma with Angela. “So then—Angela should be here for Feeny’s class?”

She nodded. “As far as I know, she should.”

Shawn thanked her and when he turned around to go, he saw Cory watching. He swiftly spun around.

“Oh, and Topanga?”

She stopped and gazed at him, her brown brows raised in inquiry.

“Could you just promise me that you’ll think about forgiving, Cory?” he asked tentatively. He saw a shadow of sadness cross over her face, but he was encouraged when she didn’t stop him, and added with a bit more boldness, “I-I was a little hard on him about the whole Lauren thing, too. But I realize now how easy it is to make a mistake and hurt someone you care about without intending to.”

Topanga didn’t respond, and with a look of resignation on his face, Shawn walked away, allowing her to get back to her interrupted lunch. From several different locations around the room, numerous sets of feminine eyes followed his rolling, masculine gait as he strode across the floor to his and Cory’s table. As he sat down, Cory leaned forward eagerly.

“How’s Topanga?” The chestnut brown eyes regarded him anxiously. “Did you two talk about me?” He waited for the answer with baited breath, desirous of receiving even the tiniest crumbs of information concerning his estranged girlfriend.

Shawn hesitated. He didn’t want to completely dash Cory’s hopes for reconciliation between him and Topanga, and decided not to tell him about her noncommittal response to his last minute plea. So assuming a somewhat shamefaced facade, he glanced at his friend but then lowered his head, and picked up his fork. “No man. I’m sorry. I was so worried about Angela, and what was going on with her, that I didn’t think to ask her about you two.” He shot Cory a look of apology before lifting a fork full of meat loaf to his mouth.

Cory sank back in his chair. “That’s okay. Most likely nothing’s changed.” Still, even as he said it, he gazed at Shawn for confirmation.

Shawn shrugged. Cory sighed and inwardly wished Shawn better luck.

Shawn informed Cory of what Topanga had told him about Angela, after which both guys, preoccupied with their own thoughts, finished off what they could eat of their lunches before heading off to their lockers to prepare for their next classes.

As Shawn pulled the thin metal door open wide. It clanged gently as it hit against the front of the one next to it. He had plenty of time before his next class, but he wanted a head start. He was going to wait by Angela’s next class before heading to his own. He knew that he could wait to see her before Feeny’s class in sixth period, but he wanted her to know that he cared enough to make the extra effort.

Feeling rather satisfied with his plan, Shawn grinned to himself. Currying a little extra favor with Angela could only help him achieve his overall goal of getting back together with her.

With that strategy in mind, he began pulling out the books and notebooks for his next two classes. When that was done, he shoved them into his book sack. Lock in hand, he was about to make a grab for the locker door to shut it, but a soft tap on his arm made him turn his head to look over his shoulder.

His eyes widened, and he whirled around so fast he nearly lost his balance. The pretty blonde girl standing before him smiled shyly.

“Dana!” he exclaimed in surprise. His eyes nervously slid from side to side, anxiously looking up and down the hallway which was starting to fill-up with students preparing to go to their next class and those just generally loitering. “W-What’re you doing here?”

Dana Pruitt wrinkled her nose at the nonsensical question. “I go here, Shawn.”

“I mean here—," he pointed at the ground emphatically, "—at-at my locker. Um, I think everything that needed to be said was said the other night,” he told her. Out of the corner of his eye, a black girl of medium height and slender build, with curly hair and cocoa colored skin moved into view as she walked down the long expanse of hallway. Shawn’s palms grew moist as he held his book sack. Tiny beads of sweat popped up, indiscriminately dotting his forehead. Then she came into focus, and when he saw that it wasn’t Angela, the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding erupted from his lungs. Realizing that he was reacting from paranoia, he pulled himself together and transferred his gaze to the girl standing so calmly—almost too calmly—in front of him.

“Dana,” Shawn began irascibly, “haven’t you and your friends done enough to me? What do you girls want? Blood?”

Dana’s smile faded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Shawn scoffed. “Around here, bad news travels fast. “ He took the lowering of her eyes as an admission that she’d heard of his and Angela’s recent breakup. “You obviously came to gloat. I’m surprised your friends aren’t here with their pitch forks.” He turned back to his locker and slammed the door shut and attached the lock. “Well, you can report back to your partners in crime: mission accomplished.” Still, with his back to her, he braced a hand against the cool beige metal and gazed down at the bulging bag hanging down limply in his other hand. He didn’t want to listen to anymore lies. Besides that, he hoped that maybe she’d get the message and just go.

Behind him, Dana stood with her eyes downcast. “Shawn, I was honestly worried about Angela getting hurt. And considering our history, I think you know why.” She fiddled self-consciously with the belt of her camel colored coat. “B-But I have to admit from some things that Libby and Jennifer said after you and Angela left that-that I think you might be right about them. About their motives.” She raised her head. “That’s actually one of the reasons why I decided to stop by,” she admitted. “I never meant for it to go that far.”

Shawn slowly turned around and looked at her steadily from under the ridge of his thick brows.

A flood of color stained her face.

“Well, maybe we—maybe I did.” She bit her lip and then let out a slow sigh. “I mean, I admit that it was kind of hard seeing and hearing about all the effort you were putting into your relationship with Angela after-after you just gave up on us, Shawn.”

Shawn raked through his hair. “Listen, Dana, I should have told you how I felt instead of not calling and avoiding you. I’m really sorry.”

She held up a hand. “You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

Shawn sighed heavily. “Yeah, I do. I never meant to hurt you,” he murmured, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “And I regret breaking up with you like I did.”

Dana swallowed hard obviously in the grips of a powerful emotion. However, she managed to nod, but her eyes fell away from his.

“You’re the only one I should and do feel bad about though. I don’t know what’s Jennifer and Libby’s problem with me,” Shawn complained bitterly, unable to help himself.

Dana frowned, unsure of what he was trying to say.

“Dana, all that stuff those two fed you was lies. Jennifer broke up with me twice. The last time because I wouldn’t stop being friends with Cory.

“Well, what about Libby?” she queried curiously.

Shawn sighed heavily. “I met Libby on a blind date that turned into a make out session,” he explained with an attitude of weariness. He was really tired of the whole mess and the rehashing of the past. Nonetheless, he continued to elucidate his part in it. “We both knew what we were getting out of that evening and parted friends. After that we saw each other casually a couple of times, but we never dated. And I don’t remember making any promises to her.”

Dana looked slightly puzzled. “Why didn’t you say any of this that night?”

Shawn shrugged. “It wasn’t like any of you were exactly in the mood to listen, and she and Jennifer obviously remembered things a lot differently then I did. Besides, I was caught off guard and, um, had other-other stuff on my mind.” Like how hurt Angela was going to be when she arrived at the apartment to find me gone—and trying to think of a way to get away from you three so that I could be with her, he finished up silently, deliberately neglecting to voice those thoughts to Dana.

Although they had been over with for quite some time, he got the impression from her earlier statement that she might not want to hear about how badly he wanted to be with Angela or how concerned he’d been about disappointing her on their special night.

Her next words would soon confirm that notion. Nevertheless, he was still taken aback by her subsequent actions.

Dana took a few steps and stood close to him. She leisurely ran her hand down his arm.

“Well, maybe we can try again.” Dana suggested hopefully, her tone of voice soft and breathy.

Shawn glanced down at her small hand on his arm and then transferred his apprehensive gaze to her upturned face. Once again, he looked around uneasily.

“Why else would you have broken up with Angela, Shawn? And you’ve already admitted that you weren’t serious with either Libby or Jennifer. That only leaves me.” It was obvious to her now that Shawn was capable of sustaining a serious relationship if he cared enough. Maybe this time, he’d fall in love with her for keeps.

Unfortunately for her, her hopes were dashed inside of a few seconds when Shawn gently removed her hand from his arm. He shook his head slowly, his gaze grave.

“You deserve someone who’s into you one hundred percent, Dana,” he said solemnly. “And that’s just not me.” His blue eyes looked into her suddenly glistening brown ones. “The one good thing that’s come out of all of this is that I realize now that I really meant what I said before I got scared. I love Angela. I do love her.”

“Wow,” she blurted out, looking a little embarrassed. “Well then, all I can say is that Angela’s a lucky girl.” Composing her features into a look of credible acceptance, Dana attempted to hide her very real disappointment and ire. “I hope you don’t hurt her, Shawn,” she added disingenuously.

The first bell coincided with Shawn preparing to speak. “I honestly don’t know if I’ll hurt Angela sometimes, Dana,” was his forthright response. “But I do know that I’m going to try my best not to and to always be completely truthful with her.” He shifted his book sack onto his shoulder and spread his hands. “And that’s really all anyone can promise anyone.”

Shawn’s ex-girlfriend smiled faintly, yet it was tinged with a mixture of regret and a hefty amount of envy. “I can really tell that you’ve changed, Shawn. I’m sorry we messed up things between you and Angela,” she said, her voice ringing with a convincing note of real sincerity. “I-I really hope you can patch things up.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” he said, sighing, and before he knew what she was going to do, Dana placed her hands on his shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed him full on the lips.

After a brief moment of shocked immobility, Shawn leapt back like he'd been shot out of a canon, his body striking the rows of stacked lockers at at his back. A loud tinny bang reverberated through his body as he lay pressed against the metal. His eyes were wide as saucers, and he regarded her tranquil features with slack-jawed dismay.

“Dana! What the—What’d you do that for?” he yelped in a panicky voice.

If she was disappointed once again with his reaction, she masked it well. “Just a kiss to wish you good luck, Shawn, and to say good-bye properly,” she replied pleasantly. With a final parting smile and a surreptitious glance to the left, she moved off and disappeared into the sea of bodies beginning to file out into the hall from various classrooms.

The second bell sounded. Shawn was so shaken that he forgot about going to Angela’s fifth period class to intercept her and headed straight for the seniors’ corner for a much needed shot of caffeine. As he neared the corner, he saw a flash a material, and his steps faltered slightly even as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Intuitively, he quickened his pace, and as he turned the corner, he witnessed the slim, fleeing figure of a girl. Within seconds, he realized with a sinking heart that this time it really was Angela.

“Angela!” he called out frantically. “Angela!”

After one costly moment’s hesitation, he broke out into a run, but she was too far ahead of him. He sprinted past the coffee stand and when he got to the stairwell, he looked up but saw only faces coming down on one side and the unfamiliar backs of heads going up the other. He moved off to the side and leaned against the wall, defeated and more than a little upset. He had a sinking feeling that Angela’s abrupt departure indicated that she’d seen something that had bothered or had shocked her: like Dana kissing him. Shawn shut his eyes and groaned loudly. Students rushing past him gave him odd looks, but none paused to see what was wrong.

Finally, pushing himself off the dingy wall, he despondently trailed down the hall to his own class and slipped into his chair before the final bell. The time moved at a snail’s crawl. Somehow, he managed to pay adequate attention to the instructor’s monotone droning to scribble down partially coherent notes and take his mind of his troubles in intermittent intervals. By the class’s end, however, Shawn was in a fever to get his next one and Angela. Yet, in his haste and even though the bell was about to ring, he made the mistake of gathering his things and getting up before the instructor had officially dismissed the class. The strict instructor detained them, delaying him and his resentful classmates until the second bell rang when they were let go.

Shawn raced around the corridor hoping against hope to waylay Angela outside Feeny’s class. Unfortunately, when he got there, everyone was already inside and seated. And instead of sitting where she normally sat in the back next to him, Angela was seated on the opposite side of the classroom next to Topanga. She was obviously avoiding him. He hooked his book sack on the back of his chair and started up the aisle, determined to talk to her.

As he passed Cory’s desk, he grimaced as he felt resistance impeding his forward momentum. Falling back a few steps, he turned his head. Cory sat clutching a handful of his outer shirt.

Shawn frowned down at Cory with a ‘what gives’ look on his face.

“Don’t, Shawnie,” Cory urged from under his breath, so that Topanga who was sitting just ahead of him wouldn’t overhear. He stared up at his friend, shaking his curly head. “Trust me on this. It isn't a good time. Wait until class is over.”

Shawn hesitated and looked over at Angela. Unaware of what was going on behind her, she sat looking straight ahead of her at the blank chalkboard. If her upright and rigid posture provided a hint as to her mental state, then Cory was right, Shawn thought unhappily. Throwing his head back in frustration, he backtracked to his seat and sat down.

A few moments later, Mr. Feeny sailed by their desks, headed to his own. Once there, he deposited his briefcase on it before he, too, sat down and began calling the roll. That being done, and the homework assignment collected, he asked the class to take out their book of Shakespearean plays, rose from his chair and began the day’s lecture.

Fifty minutes later as they filed through the door, Shawn caught up with Angela who along with Topanga had squeezed by him as he stood stationed by the door.

He trotted alongside of her. “Angela, you can’t still be mad at me about yesterday.”

“I’m not. I’ve got plenty to be mad at you for today.” She turned her head for a brief second, scorching him with a scathing glance. “By the way, I so enjoyed watching you and your new girlfriend make out by your locker,” she snapped heatedly. "And to think that I was actually coming to talk to you." Then, with her nose rising well into the air, she quickened her step and proceeded to ignore his pleas for her stop running and talk to him.

"I swear I can explain if you'll just give me a chance!" Shawn exclaimed.

Angela's response was to cut her eyes at him and walk even faster.

Having had enough of her attitude, especially when he hadn’t done anything, Shawn grabbed her arm and propelled her over to the senior corner for a bit of privacy leaving Topanga to stand staring after them further up the hall. Timidly, Cory attempted to approach her, and she scurried off, instantaneously deciding to wait for Angela outside the building.

Shawn doggedly dragged a protesting and struggling Angela down onto the couch to sit next to him. Angela immediately jumped up, jerking her arm away. “I don’t particularly like being manhandled, Shawn Patrick Hunter.”

“Well, I don’t particularly like being ignored, Angela Shanaynay Moore,” he shot back and then instantly regretted his hasty words. He pushed the book sack off his shoulder, leaving it to sit on the couch, and rose rather slowly almost as if in fear of startling her and having her run off again.

She had no intention of running off; however, her eyes narrowed furiously. “You have some nerve—”

“Angela, I’m sorry. Alright?" He brushed the hair off his forehead. "I didn’t mean to-to manhandle you." The look he gave her conveyed his regret. "You know I would never intentionally hurt you. I just couldn't—think of anything else to do. You've got to at least let me explain about this afternoon,” he pleaded, holding out a hand to her in supplication. “I didn’t kiss Dana. If you saw the whole thing, then you know that. I got away from her the moment she kissed me.”

Angela pursed her lips. “Maybe I saw that, and maybe I didn’t. What was she doing with you anyway?” asked his ex-girlfriend in a clipped voice that rivaled the artic in chilliness. She wrapped her arms around her books and held them against her chest in a defensive manner.

Shawn flung out his hand agitatedly. “I was getting my books from my locker and someone tapped me on the shoulder. She was just—there, Angela. I swear I didn’t go looking for her or anything like that.”

Angela dark eyes traveled over his face, in search of the truth, for such a long time that Shawn was certain that she didn’t believe him, but contrary to his hasty assumption, she sat her books down on the table. Then dropping down onto one the end of the couch nearest the armrest as far as she could get from him, she shrugged out of her grey suede overcoat. It pooled around the hounds-tooth colored mini that covered her hips and the tops of her thighs. Black patent leather, high-heeled boots encased her calves and glinted from the overhead beam of light as she crossed one leg over the other.

Relief flooded through him. She believed him enough to be willing to listen. Shawn wet his dry lips as he gazed at her. She was so pretty. All the girls he’d gone out with had been, but Angela had a kind of glow about her that even though he couldn’t explain what it was, he could admire it and did. He never tired of just looking at her. Moreover, he'd never met another girl who was so secure in her looks with the exception of Topanga. He could rifle—and often did—through Angela’s cottony soft curls at any given time without fear of being reprimanded with cries of “Shawn, don’t! My hair!”

Presently, his bright eyes involuntarily traveled the length of her slender form. The black scooped necked knit top hugged her tender curves in flattering detail. The warm gold color of her chain and locket complimented the creamy cocoa of her skin. He wanted to bury his hands in the downy, cork screw curls, pull her face to his, and kiss her perfectly shaped lips; but from the wary expression on her face, he knew that would be premature and probably result in a sore, reddened cheek.

Angela felt heat invade her face as it always did when Shawn looked at her with that sexy gleam in his eyes. She cleared her throat in an effort to gain his wandering attention. They had a lot to talk about, and she wasn’t going to be distracted by pouting pink lips or jewel-toned azure eyes.

With difficulty, Shawn pulled himself from his musings. It was now or never. He sat down and rested his arms on his legs as he leaned forward to talk to her but was careful not to invade her space.

“Angela, I apologize for acting so crazy at Chubbie’s yesterday,” he said, his voice full of contrition. “I completely overreacted for no reason. You know I trust you.”

Angela inclined her head in acceptance of his apology.

“It was just that my stupid declaration about us being friends made me—well, insecure. That ‘First Girfriends’ Club’ spooked me.”

Angela raised her eyebrows. “'First Girfriends’ Club'?”

He explained Cory’s hypothesis and how he’d compared what Shawn’s old girlfriends had done to the theme of the movie “The First Wives’ Club”. As a female, Angela was well acquainted with the movie, so to his infinite relief, and not having a mother who loved the movie, he was spared having to explain it in more detail.

“Cory’s pretty astute,” she remarked with some surprise. “I knew those girls were up to no good.”

Shawn shook his head, unable to believe how gullible he’d been. “They really had me going. A-And then on top of that, finding you with Ted and seeing what looked like you two holding hands…” his voice trailed off. In spite of his genuine remorse, Shawn still didn’t like what he’d seen. And he liked even less talking about it.

Understanding him better than he thought she did, Angela relented a little and laid a hand over the one lying next to her. “Shawn, it’s okay. I’m not mad about that anymore.”

Shawn turned his larger hand palm up under hers and held her held hand, their fingers tightly intertwined. As he looked down at their hands, he got the same thrill he always did whenever they touched.

He looked up to discover her watching him intently before he lowered them again. Suddenly, he felt tongue-tied and unsure of himself. The same feeling he’d gotten when he’d first discovered that she was his beloved “purse girl”. Not being able to talk to her then had been embarrassing enough, but how was he going to get her back if he couldn’t talk to her now?

Angela had glimpsed the panic in his eyes and responded to it. She recognized the signs. It was one of the things that she found so endearing about Shawn Hunter, the reputedly cool, fast-talking playa, who could have his pick of just about any girl of his choosing: He was incredibly and painfully shy when his feelings were truly engaged.

Angela gazed at him compassionately, a little smile playing about her pretty mouth. The situation was truly ironic. The more Shawn fell apart the more confident Angela became.

“Shawn?”

He lifted his downcast eyes bashfully. “Yeah?”

“Is there something in particular you wanted to say to me?” she asked softly. “I do have to get home, so if there’s nothing else…” She knew she was being a bit cruel, but he deserved to be toyed with a little for being such a sap the other night.

He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, there is,” he said hastily. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for being such an idiot on Valentine’s Day,” he mumbled and then clammed up completely.

Angela gazed at his bowed head with tender amusement. He was sitting so still, nearly paralyzed with fear, that the only sign giving away the fact that he wasn’t a very real looking life-like statue was the steady stroking of his thumb on the back of her hand.

Angela slid closer to him. Now only their linked hands separated them. “Shawn, it’s alright. You’re heart was in the right place. It’s just that there’s no preset mold or method for how two people fall in love,” she explained without rancor. “It’s an individual thing. Besides, I always thought of us as friends as well as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“I realize that now,” he commented ruefully.

“So what are you saying exactly?” she asked encouragingly, attempting to draw him out.

Oh boy, the moment of truth, Shawn thought fearfully. His felt a little lightheaded, and his heart was beating like a tom-tom in his chest. Not only that but his tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his suddenly very dry mouth. Even worse, the hand that held hers was growing embarrassingly clammier by the moment. At any other time, he would have thought that he was getting sick, but he knew better. His body was reacting to the task ahead of him. Shawn knew instinctively that Angela wanted him to come out with an explicitly phrased admission so that there would be no misunderstanding of what they were to each other. What he couldn’t understand was why this was suddenly so hard when he’d already told three people today alone that he loved her? Why couldn’t he do the same now that they were face to face?

Drawing on the heritage of his forefathers, the ruthless Cossacks and fearless Lowland Scottish warriors, Shawn turned his body toward her a little and gathering his courage, he raised his head.

Angela was regarding him expectantly. When he spoke, his voice was so low that it was nearly inaudible. She bent her head so that her small ear was near his mouth.

“I didn’t quite catch that.”

Shawn caught a whiff of her heavenly scent as one downy soft curl tickled his chin. He tried again.

“I-I want you to be my girlfriend again, Angela. T-Take me back.”

She tilted her head up and looked at him speculatively. “And why would you want that?” she asked, prompting him.

A dusky shade of pink seeped into his cheeks. ‘Because I—” He abruptly stopped speaking when his voice emerged as a high-pitched squeak.

Angela onyx eyes gazed at him complacently while he struggled for self-control. He was looking down again, and she slipped her fingers underneath his chin, tilting his head up so that he was forced to look at her. What she saw in the luminous blue eyes made her breath catch.

Striving to overcome his fear, Shawn cleared his throat His lips worked a couple of time before the sound emerged. “I-I, um,” he swallowed hard, “I love you, Angela.” There, he’d said it. And now he didn’t know what to do next.

Fortunately for the both of them, Angela did. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. As soon as her soft lips made contact, Shawn’s bruised heart was consoled, and he responded with tenderness at first and then with growing passion, gently nudging her lips apart and deepening the kiss until only their harsh breathing could be heard in the silence of that mostly vacant area of the school. One arm went around her, pulling her close up against him while the other slid into her velvety curls. Angela sighed and slipped arms around his neck. Minutes passed and only the need for air made him lift his head. Shawn stared into the face of his love, feeling a little dazed and shaken.

“Wow!” he breathed reverently. He had kissed others, and he and Angela had shared some exceptional kisses, but this was one for the record books. Had he been standing, her passionate response would have rocked him off his feet.

Angela opened her eyes, and they sat gazing at each other for some little while, both panting and hearts racing.

His heart full to bursting with happiness, Shawn repeated his earlier declaration without prompting. “I love you, Angela,” he said firmly, his voice deepening in that special tone that sent shivers down her spine every time she heard it. "I love you."

She smiled dreamily. “Hmmm,” she murmured, sighing with contentment. “That just never gets old.” Then with an impish gleam in her eyes, she added blithely, “Oh, and by the way, I love you, too.”

Her admission was unexpected, and he was caught unawares. He drew his breath in sharply. “Y-You do?”

She slid a hand from the back of his head and gently caressed his face. “Of course, I do, silly.” She giggled infectiously. “Do you think I go around kissing every guy I know like that?”

Shawn scowled in mock anger. “You better not go around kissing any guys at all!” Then his expression cleared, and he uttered in low and rather seductive tones, “Well, except me, that is.”

Well pleased with one another, they were about to resume their mutually enjoyable pastime when at just that moment, a disembodied curly-haired head appeared from around the corner. When Cory saw that everything was alright, he tried to discreetly withdraw before they got sight of him, but Shawn caught the movement out of the side of one eye.

“Cory!” he cried jubilantly. A sappy grin extended from one of his ears to the other. “Don’t go!” He waved his friend over.

Angela removed her hand from around the nape of Shawn’s neck and sat up straighter as Cory came over a little diffidently. Shawn loosened his hold some but kept his arms right where they were: around Angela’s slender waist.

“By the look of things, you two don’t need me,” he protested half-heartedly. Yet he was glad to be with them and witness for himself Shawn’s happiness. In fact, happy wasn’t quite the word he was looking for. Besotted and love-struck were much more apt descriptions. Then again, Angela didn’t look anymore sensible than he did. Cory had never seen this side of her. Her normal reserve was missing. Her dark eyes were gazing at Shawn as if he’d hung not only the stars and the moon, but the sun, too.

Cory hadn't been exaggerating. Shawn was grinning at him, a wonderfully foolish expression on his boyishly handsome face. Even the faint crescents underneath his eyes seemed diminished in the incredible glow of his joy.

“Angela loves me,” he declared proudly.

His girlfriend nodded, completely unembarrassed by his sharing this very new and extremely personal piece of information. She had no problem with the close bond that Shawn and Cory’s shared that made the impetuous announcement necessary, even coming as it did hard on the heels of her frank admission.

“Yep. That’s right,” she affirmed boldly even going so far as to encircle Shawn’s waist.

Pleasantly surprised by this uncharacteristic show of affection in front of Cory, he responded by kissing her cheek. “It’s official. Angela and I are in love, Cor.”

Cory smiled brightly. “That’s great, you guys,” he congratulated them. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Me, too, Cor.” Shawn sighed contentedly. “Me, too. This is the best post Valentine’s Day, I’ve ever had. And I owe it all to—” he broke off, looking first at Angela and then Cory before they all chimed in together, “ ‘The First Girlfriends’ Club’!”

The End