"What's the deal with you and Cale?" Chris' whisper sliced through my dark living room as Dirty Dancing flickered on the screen before us.

"What do you mean? We're friends," I absently spoke in anticipation of my favorite part. Baby was already carrying the watermelon and about to dance with Johnny for the first time.

"Did you have fun with him at the dance?"

"Yeah, it was so much fun." I shifted a bit to redirect back to the movie. "This is my favorite part."

Chris shifted to watch the scene unfold, but I felt his desire to prod more.

"Are you into him?" His voice cut again.

"What?" I paused the movie as I turned to him.

"Are you into him? He's been single the whole year and asked you to the dance."

"Yeah, as friends. He knew you and I usually went as friends and offered to sub for the night."

"How nice of him," Chris' tone dripped with sarcasm.

"Do you have a problem with Cale suddenly?"

"No, I have no problem with Cale."

"Oh, so you have a problem with me?" My face warmed with anger. "You were the one that asked Bella to go with you without even telling me."

"Well, I'd have to see you to tell you, and you're either working on your capstone or hanging out with Cale. It's like he's your new best friend."

"Is that what this is about? We see each other all the time." I couldn't help but recall Cale's frustration that his mystery girl had no time for him. Did Chris feel the same way about me?

"No, we used to see each other all the time; now we see each other a couple of times a week." Chris shifted away from me.

"I'm sorry if I'm taking my capstone seriously. It's important for school and the community. It's supposed to teach us to be mature members of society. Maybe you should work harder on yours." My annoyance was winning over my compassion.

"Maybe I should go work on it right now."

"Maybe you should!" I yelled up at him as he popped from the couch.

"Fine," he stammered back.

"Fine," I yelled over the back of the couch at him.

I slumped back into the couch in a full pout before pulling out my phone.

"Chris is the worst!" I began without a proper greeting.

"Hi, Delly; nice to hear from you. I'm good. Thanks for asking." Cale's voice came calm and even as he spoke.

"He's the worst. He's mad because I'm too focused on my capstone."

Cale let out a sigh. "Do you think that's why he's mad?"

"Yes," I definitively said.

"Stop and think about my question; do you think that's why he's mad?"

"Yes, and now I'm getting annoyed with you, too!"

"Okay, Delly, give me a few minutes, and I'll call you back."

"Don't bother," I hollered into the phone before I hung up.

I knew I shouldn't have hung up. Chris frustrated me, not Cale. Who knows what Cale was in the middle of when I called? It was unfair, but my anger was in the driver's seat. Knowing this, I grew annoyed at myself for being short with Cale. Then I got annoyed with him again for making me feel guilty when I was already angry at Chris.

My phone rang, with Cale's face flashing on my screen. I sighed as I answered, "I'm sorry."

"I know. Come outside," he prodded.

"Why?"

"Can you just come outside?" He argued this time.

"Fine."

I hung up the phone and headed out front to find Cale sitting in his truck. When he saw me, he popped his passenger door open.

"Hop in," he called.

I climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind me. "Where are we going?"

"Nowhere." He pulled a bag out from the back. "Fancy new binder, two different pens, and highlighters, of course."

"What's all this for?"

"You have a binder for every part of your life; maybe you should have a binder for your social life. That binder should probably start with Chris and why you two are friends."

"What? A friend's binder?"

"Don't act like I'm the crazy one. I've been in your room. I've seen the chore binder. Who needs that much information documented on their laundry routine?"

I sucked in a deep breath, deciding if I wanted to argue or not, before I answered with a "fair."

"Oh, and a chocolate shake," he added.

"Really, ice cream drink for the upset girl? Isn't that a little cliché?"

"Not really. I was getting a shake when you called and thought it'd be rude to show up without one for you." He accented his explanation with a long sip from his shake.

"Ugh, you make it hard to stay annoyed at you."

"I've heard that before. I think it's the adorable puppy dog eyes." Cale smiled as he batted his eyelashes playfully. "Now," he directed as he tapped the binder, "let's hear the meet-cute."

"You know what a meet-cute is?" I teased.

"Of course, I don't live under a rock. How did you and Chris meet?"

"Well, we're friends, so it wasn't a meet-cute."

Cale just held my gaze until I crumbled.

"We met at lunch on the first day of freshman year."

"Oh, that was brutal. It's like when they make you pick teams in gym class."

"Like you ever have to worry; you're always picked first in gym class and have a million people that want to sit with you at lunch."

"People are fickle; you never know when they'll turn on you."

"Do you feel like that?"

"I'm a high school kid too, Delly. Like everyone else, I worry about looking stupid or no one talking to me. I don't have a ride-or-die like you and Chris. I make one bad play, and all my friends could turn on me."

I suddenly felt terrible for Cale and, at the same moment, had a pang soar through me from missing Chris. "I'm sorry, Cale. I guess I always assumed it was all easier for you. I'll be your ride-or-die."

He let out a laugh. "I've seen your temper, and I feel like the die is more likely than the ride."

"Hey." I jokingly slapped his shoulder.

"Okay, so lunch freshman year..." he prodded with another tap to the binder.

"Right, so I'm doing the lunch dance. You know, clutching my tray, hoping someone makes eye contact. And then Chris made eye contact. We kinda just became inseparable from there."

"Okay, write it down... page one... the meeting." He took another sip of his shake as I wrote. "And I think that was pretty cute," he added with an annoying wink. "Eyes meeting across the lunchroom feels very John Hughes to me."

"You know John Hughes?" I absently laughed as I continued to write.

"I have a little sister." He shrugged between sips.

"Page one, the meeting," I said as I finished.

"Now, page two... all the reasons you have stayed friends."

"All the reasons? I think I'll need a bigger binder!"

"Huh, you don't sound so mad at Chris anymore," he teased.

"I know." I sighed. "He's the best."

"And why is he the best?"

"He's sweet and kind."

"No, I need more than that; those are just things people say," Cale argued.

"Okay, well, let's see. He always holds the door for me and pulls out my chair like he's from one of the old movies I like to watch. Oh, and I don't know if you ever noticed, but he always wears a top hat to dance."

"I hadn't, but now that you say that..."

"Yeah, that's because in all the old movies I make him watch, there are these dance scenes that start with the man tipping his hat to the lady. I love it. So, he wore a top hat for the first dance we went to, and the tradition just continued."

"I'm a dude that likes action movies, and even I think that's adorable."

"He always leaves the brown M&Ms and yellow Starbursts for me because they're my favorite," I added as I wrote it down.

"Um, all M&Ms taste the same," Cale shot.

"They do, but I'm pretty sure the brown ones have less dye because chocolate is brown."

"I'm pretty sure that's not a thing."

"Another thing about Chris, he doesn't argue with my unfactual thoughts."

"He's a saint. Write that down and put my name next to it."

"Oh, I don't have to worry about little things around him. Like in the hallway, he always ushers me out of the way of oncoming people."

"You don't do that yourself?"

"I mean, I do, but when I'm with Chris, I let him take the wheel on my direction so I can focus on my thoughts. He always seems to know when I'm about to trip and steadies me."

"Wow," Cale said, looking at me in disbelief. "And you didn't know that he had a thing for you?

I let out a sigh. "Yeah, I know. I think I'm the self-absorbed one and not you."

"Ya think?" He laughed.

I continued to write everything I loved about Chris until I had filled three pages.

"Okay, now I'll take this," Cale said as he tried to pull the binder from me.

"What? No, this is mine." I clutched it harder.

"No, I'm keeping this, and then, the next time you call hating on your best friend, I'll have ammo." He tugged it from me a tucked it between his seat and the door. "Feeling better?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Think maybe you should call Chris?" He prodded.

"No, I'll let him cool off tonight and talk to him tomorrow. Maybe I'll make him his favorite peanut butter blossoms."

"Wait, are those the peanut butter cookies with the chocolate on them?" Cale's eyes gleamed.

"Yes, and I'll make extra for you as well."

"Thanks, Delly." He smiled.

"Now, any updates on the mystery girl?"

"Hey now, I came here to help you," he protested.

"And you did. Now I need to be distracted."

"Oh, so my love life is just some trivial distraction to you?" He cocked an eyebrow at me as he spoke.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm all caught up on my soaps, so I need something. And stop trying to distract me from my distraction; spill!"

"We've hung out a few times this month. After the New Year, she's had a bit more time."

"But..." I could hear the conflict in his voice.

"But I haven't been able to tell her I'm into her like that. I feel like she's way too out of my league."

"Who is she?" I couldn't handle the suspense.

He gave me a look before adding with a shrug, "I should just tell her I'm into her, but you should also tell Chris."

"Is your mystery girl jealous of me? I think Chris is jealous of you."

"What? Why would he be jealous of me? We're just friends."

"That's what I said, but he got all angry."

"Have you told him you are into him?"

"I'm not 100% certain I am into him," I offered.

"I'm 100% certain you're into him. Does that count?"

"No," I smirked. "And it's not fair that you know about Chris, but I can't even know the girl you like."

"Ah, so many things in life are unfair," he said as he sat back and took another sip from his shake.

"You'll tell me eventually, right?"

"You'll be the second person I tell."

I gave him a look at being the second person.

"I feel like I should tell her first."

"True." I sighed, but still wasn't satisfied with the mystery girl.