Carlos descended the stairs, a sizable bowl of chips somehow held in the crook of his elbow, a bowl of pretzels in the other crook, and his large hands gripping 2-liter bottles of soda pop by the necks.

"The grub has arrived!"

"CARLOS!" D.A. chided as she got up from her bean bag. "You're going to spill all that! You should've taken two trips!" D.A. put her teeny chubby hands on the caps of the bottles, the tips of her fingers resting on his.

"D.A., your hands are too small. You can't possibly carry these bottles. I've got muscles, I'll be fine." But Carlos didn't move to take D.A.'s hands off the bottles.

Carlos had indeed grown muscles. In fact, not only had he grown muscles, but he had developed to be quite dashingly handsome, to D.A.'s dismay. He was still as conceited and vain as ever, there was no changing that – even though DA had been trying for years.

"My hands aren't that small! I can hold the bottles!"

"D.A., even considering your petite size, your hands are disproportionately tiny." Tim said, without even looking up from his magazine on guitars.

"Fine! The artist says they're disproportionately tiny! Of course HE would know! But! Tiny they may be, but they can still hold these bottles!" D.A.'s round face was beginning to turn crimson.

Carlos grinned that darn suave grin of his and slipped out one hand from underneath D.A.'s.

"You can have one bottle, my wittle Dorothy Ann. Get Ralphie to take the other one."

"Kinda busy here!" Ralphie shouted right before a "HA! I gotcha now, suckaaaa!" as Arnold groaned. Ralphie's Mario had managed to completely K.O. Arnold's Yoshi. They had been playing video games the whole entire time and this was their second time around playing Super Smash Bros.

"Arnold, you go get the soda! I wanna play!" Wanda attempted to take the controller from Arnold, but Arnold displayed a surprising amount of braun as he fended off Wanda's attacks. He then lifted the controller above his head. Considering Arnold was a lanky 6'2" and Wanda was 5'3", even Wanda's great jumping skills could only get her so far.

"Honestly, you guys are so immature." Keesha rolled her eyes that were rimmed with a smoky ring of eyeshadow. "Ralphie, stop being a little kid! Wake up from your world of fantasy and superheroes! Be a gentleman!"

Phoebe, who had been looking over Tim's shoulder at the guitar magazine, nudged him and said, "I like that one, Tim. I've tried it out and the sound is perfect for that song we were practicing yesterday." Phoebe caught on to the dynamic of what was going on around her. "...And maybe you should go help D.A."

"You know what? It's fine! I'm almost there anyway!" Carlos called out hurriedly. Carlos didn't trust Tim near D.A. In third grade, Carlos had devised this elaborate plan so that it wouldn't seem like he was the one who came up with the idea to get D.A. a star for her birthday. He had been incessantly teased about liking D.A. and he hadn't wanted to give the boys any more support for that idea. Carlos had asked Tim to help, but then Tim had gotten a little too into character and Carlos had never forgiven him. Even though Phoebe and Tim had gotten really close when Phoebe discovered her love of songwriting and piano, Phoebe and Tim were both still in denial that they liked each other and so, there was still danger in Carlos's mind.

"Humph." D.A. darted a glare Carlos's way before unceremoniously dropping the soda onto the ping pong table. She then demurely sat down on her bean bag, tucking her legs in as she was wearing a pleated skirt similar to the one she had always worn in elementary school.

Carlos placed the two bowls and the remaining soda bottle on the ping pong table. He then moseyed on over and plopped down on the same beanbag as D.A. at such an angle that his body was weighing down on her.

"Carlos! Get off!"

"D.A., you know this is my favorite bean bag. And this is my house! I do what I want!"

"It is NOT your favorite bean bag! You like the one over there better! And you're too big! I can't handle it!"

Wanda, Keesha, and Ralphie burst into laughter.

"What? I don't get it..." Phoebe's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Don't worry about it." Tim reassuringly patted Phoebe's knobbly knee.

By this point, Carlos had slid to a position where D.A. was bearing almost the full force of his weight.

"Ow, seriously, Carlos, you're too heavy! You're hurting me!"

Carlos sprang up as if he had been on a pogo stick. "Sorry!" Carlos said cheerfully.

He then surveyed the scene. Ralphie and Arnold were engrossed in virtually beating each other up again. Keesha was reapplying mascara and simultaneously looking at her compact and flickering glances toward Ralphie. Wanda was hopping around and waiting to pounce on Arnold's controller, while Phoebe and Tim were in a corner, still looking at the guitar magazine. And D.A. was huffily seated on that bean bag, rubbing her arm and shooting Carlos a venomous look.

Carlos cleared his throat. "Ahem."

Nobody was even looking at him, except for D.A.

"Ahemity hem hem."

"According to my research, clearing your throat a lot may be a symptom of cancer."

Alarmed, Carlos gasped, "Really?!"

"No, I don't know. But your 'ahemity hem hem' is totally failing right now. Just say whatever you wanted to say!"

"Fine." Loudly, "Attention everyone!"

"What?" A chorus of voices came Carlos's way, but no eyes followed.

"Dudes, could you stop what you're doing for just a sec and pay attention to me?!"

"Fine!" and a collection of signs and groans accompanied an unwilling shuffle of the group to look at him.

"We've all broken out into little groups, which isn't cool! We should do something all together!"

"And just what exactly do you propose, huh?" Keesha raised an already arched eyebrow.

"Erm..."

Carlos hadn't thought that far ahead. His eyes wandered over to the shelves of board games in the corner. His eyes alighted upon the game on top and began to gleam with mischief.

"Twister! And since Phoebe's wearing a skirt, she can spin."

There was a general murmur of approval.

"Carlos! I'm wearing a skirt, too! And my skirt's shorter than Phoebe's! What do you expect me to do?!"

Carlos shrugged. "Just play. It's not like there's anything we haven't seen before."

Ralphie chimed in, "I haven't ever seen anything. What have you two been up to?"

D.A.'s face seemed to fill up with red. "I just won't play then."

Carlos grabbed D.A.'s arm as she started to turn away. "No D.A., you have to play! Have some fun!"

"I can't play Twister in this skirt!"

"Well then, you can just borrow some sweatpants or something! Come on!"

"Fine..." D.A. followed Carlos up the stairs, befuddled when she heard the raucous laughter below her.

D.A. stood, arms crossed and a scowl on her face, in the doorway of Carlos's familiar room, as he tossed things in a steady stream over his shoulder.

"Aha!" Carlos triumphantly held up a pair of sweatpants that he had clearly outgrown several years ago. "This looks like it would fit you best."

D.A. stepped into the room and snatched the pants. "Thanks. Now turn around!" Carlos did so, but he ended up facing the mirror – meaning he could clearly see every move D.A. was making.

She really is so beautiful, he thought before he shut his eyes tight. He didn't want to be a creeper – though he couldn't deny that he really wanted to watch.

D.A. swiftly put the pants on and took a second to look around the room. There were clothes all over the ground and similarly, his desk was an incredible mess. There was only one clean spot, though, which she had never seen before – the shelf above his desk was empty, save for a picture frame around a photo of eight-year-old Carlos and – were those two blond pigtails that she saw?!

"Are you done yet?!" Carlos called out.

D.A. shook her head. It wasn't so surprising that Carlos would have a picture of them together. Really not surprising at all.

"Yeah, I'm done."

D.A. looked toward Carlos as he turned around. She watched him turn around in fron of her and also in the mirror that he had been facing. Oh wait...

"Were you watching me undress?!" D.A. squealed.

"No! NO! I swear I wasn't! I wouldn't do that to you!" Carlos exclaimed in little bursts as D.A. started whacking his arms.

"Why are you such a creeper? You almost crush me on the beanbag, you watch me undress...And what is the meaning of this picture of us on your desk?!"

Carlos didn't have an answer for that one. "I...uh..."

D.A.'s mind was racing her heart and they were both going so fast, she wasn't sure which one was winning.

"Carlos Ramon, do you like me?"

D.A. wasn't sure what she hoped the answer would be.

"I...uh...yes?"

D.A. whacked him again. "Don't sound so insecure about it! I'm not one for hook-ups, so if you can't be sure that you like me that much, then don't even bother! I'm not here just for you to get some or to be in your pants or whatever!"

Carlos got a hold of his senses and slowly, a grin grew on his face.

"But you're in my pants already."

"I...WHAT?!"

Carlos was in control now.

Calmly, "I've already got you in my pants."

D.A. sputtered, "I...but..."

Carlos stepped dangerously close to D.A.

"Dorothy Ann, if getting some was all that I wanted, I wouldn't have come to you."

D.A. made a noise of disgust and disbelief. What was that supposed to mean? That she wasn't hot enough? Was she supposed to be won over by that? It was offensive!

"I respect you too much." Humph. "Listen." And Carlos was serious now. "I've been trying for years now to get you to love me and respect me as much as I love and respect you. And honestly, I've been trying to not love you so much, but I do. I love you, Dorothy Ann."

D.A. tried to sound dismissive but failed. "That was SO cheesy. Are you done?" D.A. couldn't help but smile at Carlos.

"Nope." And Carlos scooped D.A. up in his arms and he was kissing her and she was kissing him and they had never been happier.

So when they finally went back down to the basement and they were greeted with various catcalls of "Ow-ow! Hot stuff!" and "What took you so long?", Carlos and D.A. just smiled at each other.

D.A. giggled, "What took me so long? I had to get into Carlos's pants, duh!"