1:00 PM

Charise sighed as she washed the dishes. She had Michaela distracted with a movie, at least for the moment. Tacita had better be dealing with a life or death situation! She growled softly to herself.

She dried her hands off and then a terrible thought hit her: she had left her purse alone with Michaela!


Gasping, she hurried into the living room, where Michaela was busily applying makeup to her face.

“Hey, Charise, am I pretty?” Michaela asked with a grin.

Charise sighed. “Let’s get you cleaned up, kiddo.”

“Nuh-uh! I look pretty this way!” Michaela scowled.

“Wearing all that makeup is going to give you skin problems.”


“So why do you wear it?”

Charise flinched slightly. “Because I know how to put on enough to look good without giving myself skin problems.”

“Then why do you have that pimple on your cheek?”

Charise gasped and leaned close to the mirror for a closer look. Michaela hurried away, silently smirking.



“Let’s face it, S, she’s not exactly the best match for you,” Tacita said.

“Yes, but I still care about her.”

“I know, and that’s the sad thing,” Tacita replied, brushing her hair out of her face. “S, you haven’t done anything to make her think of you as anything more than a friend. Let’s face it, kiddo, at the rate you’re going, the only way you’ll end up with Charise is if someone she really looked up to said, with their last dying breath, that the fate of the world depended on her marrying you and you two having kids together. And, you know, even then, I don’t know if it would be a one hundred percent chance of working out.”

S rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot, Tacita,” he said bitterly.


Tacita smiled softly. “I know you care about her, though, and if it makes you happy, then go for it.”

“But she doesn’t really know who I am.”

Tacita laughed and poked at his arm. “Because you won’t let her. You’re so mysterious all the time. Now tell me, would it be so dangerous to let Charise know how much you care? Like I said, everybody else knows.”

“I thought you didn’t want me going after her.”

“I’d rather you tell her your feelings and be rejected and know how she feels, than to want her for years and years, complaining to me the whole time, and then find out too late that she likes you. The worst she can do is tell you she’s not interested, right?”

“Are you sure I should go for it, though?” S asked. He chewed his fingernails.


"Sure, go for it!" Tacita replied. "You've always liked her. Remember when we were little? You were about six years old when you met Charise. And when she walked through the door of the classroom and you saw her for the first time, you said, ‘Tacita, is that an angel?’”


S snorted. “Okay, there's a lot wrong with what you just said. First of all, I was eight, not six. Second of all, I didn’t say that; you’ve seen Spider-Man too many times.”

“My point is still valid, though.”

“Whatever you say… Aunt May.”

“Oh, shut up, S.”

“Fine.”


“But the point is, go find out how she feels, and stop whining to me about it. I want you to go home and do something to make her feel special. Then, at least you can say you’ve tried.”

S rose. “I… I think I might do that.”

Tacita stood up and hugged him. “Go get ‘em, Tiger.”


She watched S hurry away, and murmured, “Hope he gets her.” Then she dialed a number on her phone. “Jeff? This is Tacita. We’re still up for 5:30 tonight?”