It was as if Goofy and Carla stood together in a space completely separated from the bustle of the real world. The clinking of steel on porcelain, the buzz of several conversations taking place at once, the sounds from the kitchen, and the occasional shouts and exclamations from customers and staff alike couldn't reach them even as they stood in its midst. They were completely focused on each other; both too shocked to speak, standing face-to-face, gazes locked on each other. It was Goofy who finally breached the silence.

"…So, 's Wednesday good for ya?" he said hesitantly, and self-consciously rubbed his left elbow.

"Wednesday's fine," Carla replied thoughtfully. In her head, she had briefly gone through her schedule for the up-coming week, and Wednesday was one of few days she could take the time to go on a date. A date. The implications of it all hit her, and she suddenly felt as nervous as a teenager. God, I bet I'm blushing like a loon. Embarrassed by her inability to act like a grown woman, she quickly added, "How 'bout we meet around eight at Café Ponderosa? I've heard that they make the meanest coffee in town."

A polite cough from Martha reminded her that she and Goofy, as strange as it seemed, weren't the only two people in the world, or even inside the diner, for that matter. "Um, except for the coffee at Joe's of course," she added before anyone got the idea that she wasn't fully loyal to her employer.

Martha gave her the thumbs up, and those customers who had overheard her comment sniggered. Goofy, on the other hand, "a-hyuked" in his familiar and unique way, causing Carla to feel all warm and tingly inside. Nothing made her feel more at peace with the world than hearing Goofy laugh. It was so joyful, so pure, so free from any malice. She looked expectantly at him, suddenly filled with confidence. He got the clue and answered her question.

"Gawrsh, that sounds great, Carla. Ponderosa at eight it is." He smiled and added, a little regretfully, "I suppose I'd better be goin' now … I did remember to play the bill, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Don't worry, I don't have any reason to sic the cops on you."

"Great," he said. "I guess I shouldn't keep my pals waitin'…" He nodded in Donald and Mickey's direction. They were still standing a few steps behind him, seemingly studying the greasy-looking piece of cake that was on display on the counter, but Carla suspected that they were, quite unabashedly, listening in on the conversation. Very similar to what Martha was doing, she added to herself.

"Don't keep 'em waiting on my account," she said jokingly. "And don't think you'll be able to escape from our date." As she made her light-hearted comment, she poked him playfully on his chest. She didn't know herself where all her newfound courage came from, but she gratefully noted that Goofy both understood her joke and appreciated it.

He looked her deep in the eyes and said, "A-hyuck! I wouldn't miss it for the world." He sounded very serious as he said it, and he looked the part too, so there was no doubt in Carla's mind that he meant it completely. His wholehearted assurance made Carla wonder if she really was the only one with a serious crush, a thought that brought her imagination to other equally enjoyable scenarios. Daydreaming had to wait for later though. She still had a job to do.

"Awright, then it's decided." Still in a teasing mood, she added, " I'm looking forward to our date, but we'll se each other before that, won't we? Unless you're planning on abandoning Joe's…"

Goofy's eyes glittered mischievously as he answered her. "Leavin' this place? - Never!" Carla caught herself laughing at his theatrical heroic pose, but before she had a chance to continue their flirting, Mickey saw it fit to intervene.

"Haha, Goof, I think we'd better leave Carla to her work now." Goofy, however, was not ready to let go of Carla's gaze just yet, so his friends had to bodily drag him away from the diner. Even as they struggled to get him through the door, he was waving to Carla with a silly grin on his face. Carla had not excuse to laugh at him, though – the grin on her face was every bit as silly.

Even when they were finally gone from sight, Carla was still grinning, completely absorbed by her own happiness. After a while, Martha was forced to wave a hand in front of her face in order to get her attention. Slowly, as if awakening from a wonderful dream, Carla became aware of her surroundings again. The constant buzz of the diner once again came into focus, together with the smell of grease, coffee and sweat. She shook her head and noticed Martha's gesturing hand.

"I guess I forgot about my duties for a while," she said.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, hun. I kept an eye on your customers while ya were busy landing yourself your man." Martha looked fondly at her. "I knew ya could do it. It's clear that we have a femme fatale in the makings here."

"Martha!" Carla exclaimed indignantly, but she was laughing none-the less. She hugged the older woman tightly, released her, and said, "Thank you for all your support and help. I couldn't have done it without you "

"Nonsense!" Martha cried out. "You just needed a push in the right direction. Speaking of that, I think Mr. Evans is ready to pay now." She nodded towards the talkative gentleman that Carla had been serving earlier.

"Dammit! I had completely forgotten about him. You're an angel, did you know that Martha?" She hurried away to the gentleman in question, leaving Martha chuckling in her wake.

§

Carla was in a great mood for hours afterwards. Not only had she, after months of longing, gotten a date with Goofy, she had also taken the bull by its horns by asking him herself. It was no wonder that during the rest of the day she found herself drifting into a long line of happy daydreams. Just as she was in the middle of one of the best ones she was called back to reality by a high-pitched shriek.

"What are you doing, you awful girl?" Carla started, and directed her gaze down to an elegantly dressed middle-aged woman whose face had taken on an angry red hue. "You are pouring tea all over my purse – which, I might add, is genuine crocodile skin!" The contemptuous look which accompanied the outburst clearly added a sneering if non-verbal, "Not that you'd recognize elegance even when it's right in front of you."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! It was all my fault, and…" The undeniable truth was that Carla had, by pure negligence, forgotten to stop pouring the hot tea once the cup was full, and she clutched the teapot nervously in her hands as she surveyed the damage.

The harpy refused to listen though, and interrupted her apology. "Of course it was your fault, you negligent, disrespectful little tart!"

Carla stared at her, her open mouth forming a surprised 'o'. Of all the things she could be accused of being, a tart was not one of them. She mentally checked her own appearance to make sure that she wasn't actually looking like one: Mousy brown hair in a ponytail, no make-up whatsoever, ill-fitting uniform, sensible shoes – check. What's that woman on? Deciding that her antagonist was deranged and possibly dangerous, she decided to tread carefully. "I'm very sorry, I'll dry it up immediately."

She fled to the cleaning cabinet before she got another tongue-lashing from the furious woman, but soon she had to reappear at the table, this time with a clean rag in her hand. This only seemed to enrage the woman further, who shrilly declared, "I'll do it myself, you'll only ruin it even more!" She snatched the rag from Carla, who, embarrassed and upset, powerlessly had to watch as the customer cleaned up Carla's mess.

"I'll pay for any damage," she said quietly, feeling exceptionally stupid.

The woman didn't even look up, and furiously kept wiping her purse. "Of course you are. What did you think, that I'd tip you for it?"

"No, of course not." Carla felt awful. And I was floating on cloud nine just minutes ago, she thought just a tad bitterly.

She eventually managed to come to an agreement with her peevish customer, and found herself 100 dollars poorer and a lot less happy than she'd been before their unfortunate encounter.

§

Finally, after a long day of work it was time to go home. She thought of her bed with pleasure as she swiftly finished with the inventory, and didn't waste a second changing out of her uniform. Carla waved to a harassed looking college as she walked out into the night.

She was tired and still upset about making such a mess of things with the upper-class wannabe, but despite this she still felt happier than she'd been in months. She was going on a date with Goofy. Wednesday felt too far away for her liking, but with a thoughtful frown she realized that that meant more time to prepare. Clothes wouldn't be a problem since she only owned a few outfits that were suitable for such an occasion, but the mental preparations were a different story altogether.

When she opened the door to her apartment, she heard her phone ringing. She threw herself on the device with an athletic bound.

"Yeah, this is Carla speaking," she quickly exclaimed.

"Oh, hello. This is James Cooper, from school," the person on the other end smoothly introduced himself. "I'm sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, but as it's important, I hope you'll forgive my impudence."

A cold hand clasped at Carla's heart as the world fell to pieces around her. She couldn't speak, being petrified by the implications of her teacher's call.

"Are you still there?" He asked worriedly. "…Oh, don't worry, I don't have anything bad to tell you, quite the opposite, actually."

With a breath of relief she said, "You really had me worried there for a while, Mr Cooper."

He chuckled warmly. "As a matter of fact, I'm just calling to invite you to a small soirée my wife will be having this week."

Carla was thoroughly confused. Why on earth would he be inviting her to a private party? The fact that his wife hosted it comforted her to some degree, since that meant that he wasn't just setting out to seduce her.

"I know it's last minute, but today she found another guest, whose presence could mean a great deal for you."

"I don't understand, sir," Carla said, countless questions zooming around in her head.

"Ah, you see, today she found out that Melvin Cooleridge was in town, so she quickly invited him to come, too. He most graciously accepted, and since he's exactly the type of acquaintance that could be of great importance for your future career, I decided to invite you as well."

Melvin Cooleridge! He was famous in his field and had a great deal of influence on the Yale admissions board. Her mind filled with encouraging future prospects, she reverently thanked him. "That's very kind of you, sir, and I would be honoured to attend."

"Marvellous! I knew you'd understand the significance of meeting him like this. You'll make a great impression, I'm sure of it!"

Carla was genuinely touched by his kindness. "Thank you, sir. …Ehhm, when is it exactly?"

"Dearie me, I had completely forgotten about that." The rustle of papers could be heard, and Carla smiled at his display of absentmindedness. "Here it is," he said, sounding very genial. "It will be held this Wednesday at eight here at 11 Juniper road."

Crap. "I see. Thank you." She said it evenly and without even a hint of the disappointment she felt. She bid her teacher goodbye, and was ashamed to admit that she felt a little resentment towards him for ruining her date with Goofy before it had even started.

Oh, get over yourself! This is your future we're talking about. Of course that's more important than a date, no matter how long awaited it is. She was disappointed, yes, but her rational self told her to priority. There could still be a date, just not on Wednesday. Unfortunately, her heart wasn't as easily convinced.

§§§

A/N: Hehe, it's been a while since the last chapter, haven't it? I'm terribly sorry for being so lazy with updates, and I promise to better myself from now on.