Disclaimer: I don't own Jimmy Neutron, his friends, or his girlfriend…I mean, Cindy. ;)

Her mom had made beef stew for dinner, but though it was normally a favorite of hers, Cindy wanted little to do with the meal. She ate maybe a third of what was placed before her in a porcelain bowl and left the rest for Humphrey before retreating back to her room. She had gone straight home after her encounter with Jimmy in the dojo, her head swimming with infinite possibilities as to how to handle his "Tuesday challenge," as she had so readily dubbed it. There was no doubt in her mind that she wanted to do it—after a good long talk with herself in the way home from karate, she decided that even SHE was beginning to tire of her act. High school would be over in a matter of months, and with Jimmy headed back to Pumona and herself headed somewhere but, this could very well be her last chance to come clean with the feelings she had harbored for many, MANY years. Besides, it WAS Jimmy himself who had insisted that she tell the "crush" she had spoken so highly of of her deep feelings. If he felt awkward or uncomfortable afterward, he had only himself to blame.

What kept Cindy's mind so preoccupied was not necessarily the significance of the deed, but rather of how she was going to accomplish such a feat. After all, what does a girl say to her long, LONG time secret crush, who just happens to be beyond brilliant? She resolved to try her hand at writing her important confession on paper, if for no other reason than to more easily critique it. That, and it would make those things she wanted to say stick in her head that much better. She approached her desk, where she had left drafts of her speech laying scattered among her school items before she had gone to eat. She grimaced as she looked at her latest effort.

Jimmy—

I've been harboring a secret for 8 years now, and I think it's high time I told you what I really think about you. Thing is, I love you, and I…

She crumpled the paper in one hand. While it was certainly the truth, it definitely wasn't how she envisioned telling him. Besides, with such a simple proclamation, how could she ever expect him to be won over? She would have to find just the right words, but luckily, she had a long 3-day weekend to mull it over, courtesy of the public school system.

She began anew once, twice, three times, and by the time she had tried her fourth attempt, she was beginning to think it a futile effort. Heartfelt confessions were so easily made in the movies, but Cindy couldn't convince herself that her favorite girly flicks could be of any help to her now. She decided then to turn to Libby, who she figured had to have gone through a similar endeavor in her relationship with Sheen. Reconnecting with her best friend was part of the "healing" process that Jimmy had described to her in the Dojo, and the thought of having Libby involved helped to relieve some of the burden of the task. Still, the thought of spilling her guts to Libby was almost as terrifying as telling Neutron himself. Nonetheless, Cindy steeled herself and dialed the familiar number. She needed a girl's advice, and Libby would find out soon enough, come Tuesday, anyway. The phone only rang twice before a strong voice spoke.

"You rang?"

"Hey, Libs," Cindy replied, foregoing introducing herself, as Libby's state-of-the-art phone had caller ID (amongst other things).

"What's up girl? I was kinda disappointed that you didn't show up at the Candy Bar after your Karate practice," she said, the noise from the dining establishment filtering in behind her, "You left me alone to handle Sheen and Carl, you evil friend."

"Sorry," Cindy began sheepishly, "I was going to come, but something came up. Hey—you got a minute to talk? I mean, if you're busy with Sheen and all, that's cool…"

"Nah, girl, we're best friends! Sheen and Carl are off having a sundae-eating contest at the bar anyway."

"Gross."

"Tell me about it. I'M getting sick just watching them. Besides, I figure it can't hurt for me to spend a LITTLE less time with Sheen—you know, spread the quality time around? Keeps the relationship stronger."

"Wow. That's pretty wise. Self-help book?"

"Kinda. Teen-Girl Monthly."

Cindy rolled her eyes, though she was inwardly thankful for the free time with her friend.

"So anyway, your BFF is on the job," Libby continued, "What's eatin' ya?"

"Weeell…I kinda decided that I wanted to…errr...tie up some loose ends before I leave Retroville High behind forever; get some things in order, you know? Tell certain people what I…umm...really think about them. That sort of thing."

"'Really think about them?' Who?"

"Well…:nervous laugh:…I have a little crush on this kid in school, for one…I thought maybe I'd, uh, you know…tell him," Cindy winced.

"You don't say?" Libby deadpanned.

"I do," Cindy said, clearly missing the implications of Libby's tone.

"So what's this got to do with me?" Libby asked.

"I need your help in…'confessing my feelings,' I guess you could say."

"Okay. Care telling me who the object of your hidden affections is?" Libby asked, choking back a smile.

Cindy was silent.

"I gotta get a feel for HOW to help you," Libby continued, losing her battle against her lips and beaming into the receiver, "So you gotta clue me in to who your Romeo is. Do I know him?"

"I…er…"

Libby nearly burst into laughter at her friend's sputtering. "Name wouldn't happen to begin with 'J' and rhyme with 'Gimmie,' would it?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"Shhh! Not so loud!" Cindy exclaimed.

"So it is Jimmy?" Libby cried.

"SHHHHHH! Shut up! Do you want the whole Candy Bar to hear?"

"Relax. They're all watching Sheen and Carl eat an inhuman amount of ice cream."

"But still," Cindy insisted, "It doesn't mean you have to shout."

"Fine, fine. I'll keep it down."

"So, are you gonna help me or what?"

Libby hummed in thought. "Listen, I get off work tomorrow at midnight. Stop by the restaurant when my shift is over and we can spend the night in my room scrounging up some ideas. My parents are gone all weekend in Tahiti for their anniversary, so we won't be bothered."

"THANK you!"

"Sure," Libby shrugged, "Just out of curiosity, what made you decide to finally spill anyway? You dying?"

"No! Look, I'll discuss all the details with you tomorrow."

"Sounds fair. See you tomorrow—I gotta go stop Sheen and Carl before they get sick. They're riding home in my backseat after all."

Libby tapped the bar with her fingers for the seventeenth time in a row as she watched her last customer eat his way slowly—VERY SLOWLY—through his entrée. It was only 2 minutes until closing, but Libby had a feeling that she wouldn't be getting out on time tonight. The door to the restaurant opened then, interrupting her thoughts, which were starting to border along the line of murdering her portly customer. She was about to open her mouth and shoot a "We're closed!" in the door's direction, but stopped when she saw Cindy slide in, carrying her overnight bag.

"Hey, girl. It'll be awhile," she greeted, gesturing to the customer, who was now making a quick call on his cell phone instead of finishing the remaining steak on his plate.

"No rush," Cindy replied.

The customer placed his hand over the receiver and his eyes sought out Libby. "Hey, miss! I need some more ketchup!"

Libby gritted her teeth and headed for the kitchen. "Hey, Pete!" she cried to the cook, just loud enough for the customer to possibly hear, "I know we're CLOSED and all, but you think you can dig out a bottle of ketchup for me?"

Cindy glanced over at the man, who was still chatting away between bites. Clearly, the message was lost on him.

Libby came back with the bottle and left it on the table with a forced smile. She returned to the bar, where Cindy had taken a seat on one of the stools.

"So, you never did tell me why you want to do this in the first place," Libby started.

"Well," Cindy replied as she drew invisible circles on the counter, "I ran into Jimmy at my Dojo."

"Jimmy does karate?" Libby asked skeptically.

"No. A kid he tutors does. But WHY he was there isn't important. I was practicing some moves when he came in, and he kinda heard me going on a bit of a tirade."

"And?"

"Well, we got into a conversation about our problems and such, and I told him I had a crush on some guy. He told me to suck it up and tell him, and report back on Tuesday."

Libby laughed. "And he has no idea that HE'S your crush?"

"No."

"Whoo lord, genius my butt."

"Focus, Libby," Cindy groaned, "What should I do? I can't just come out and tell him! And besides, he says he has the giant crush on some other girl, and—Oh! Why should I bother?"

"Relax. First off, boys get 'major crushes' on anything with a large set of eyes and a larger set of boobs. Those are probably just his hormones rearing their ugly heads."

"Do you know that for a fact?" Cindy asked.

"Do you know it's WRONG for a fact?" Libby countered, "Now, do you want to do this or not?"

"Should I?"

"Well, at least you'll know," Libby suggested, "Better than going through life wondering what could have been. Besides, when has Cindy Vortex ever been really afraid of anything?"

"Good point," Cindy offered a small smile.

"Now I'm going to try and hurry this jerk along; excuse me," Libby grinned wickedly as she made for her customer's table.

Libby sat Cindy in her desk chair, which was now placed in the center of the room. Libby herself took a seat on her bed and stared back at her friend.

"Okay, first things first," she began, opening the magazine beside her, "If there's one thing all the top teen magazines agree on, it's looking great when you spill to your crush."

Cindy raised an eyebrow at her friend. "You're hinging my life on a bunch of magazines?"

"You got a better idea?"

"Hinge away," Cindy replied.

"We'll need to get you the proper look, but that'll have to wait until tomorrow, when the stores are open; so we'll start early tomorrow. In the meantime, let's try this—I'll be Jimmy, and you be…well, you. Now, go ahead. Confess away."

"Role-playing?"

"Yes, now—I'm Jimmy. I like inventing and calculus and big words that nobody else knows. I might even use some now—unless you'd like to stop me by talking first," Libby grinned.

Cindy laughed at the representation, but then focused on the task at hand.

"Well, um…JIMMY…I…uh…"

"No stuttering!"

"Fine. I have something I feel I should tell you. Something I gotta say…"

"Redundancy!"

"Fine! You told me I should tell my crush that I…well…liked him. And I…:mumblemumble:"

"What?"

"Ikindalikeyou," she muttered.

"What? Louder! Jimmy wants to hear!"

"I said I kinda like you," Cindy spoke up.

"I still can't hear you," Libby sang.

"I FREAKIN' LIKE YOU!" Cindy bellowed.

"Whoa, whoa!" a crazed voice yelled from the bedroom doorway, "Libby's MY girlfriend!"

Cindy whirled around to see Sheen and Carl standing in the room.

"Wha…how'd you get in here?" Cindy exclaimed.

"That's what I'd like to know!" Sheen said.

"I was INVITED, Ultra-Dork!"

"Oh. Well, the door was unlocked, and I knew my Libby-muffin's folks were gone for the long weekend, so I thought I'd stop by."

Libby stood and approached her boyfriend. "Normally, I'd love to hang out, but we're in the middle of a project here."

"What, girl-girl love confessions?"

"No! Cindy wasn't confessing to me! We were practicing for when she confesses to Ji—"

"LIBBY!" Cindy screeched.

"Whoops, I mean…time to go guys," Libby grinned innocently as she ushered Carl and Sheen to the door.

"Wait, can't we stay and watch? We came all the way here!" Sheen protested.

"You live down the street, and, no."

"We'll be real quiet," Carl insisted.

"Why don't you go bug Nerdtron?" Cindy spat.

"Jimmy's busy repairing his hover car…we uh…kinda made one of his parts blow up and he kicked us out. He said we were 'impeding progress' or something," Carl explained sheepishly.

"And it's only midnight on a Saturday and we have nowhere else to go!" Sheen exclaimed.

"Why not go home and try to work on your homework so you can get out with more than a 'C-' average?" Cindy asked venomously.

"Homework? On the weekend? Are you nuts!" Sheen cried, "Besides, 'C-' is passing Miss Smarty-Pants."

"Besides, you said you were practicing telling a guy you like him, and we could help. We are men too, after all," Carl pointed out.

"Barely," Cindy grumbled under her breath.

"They do have a point," Libby mused, "Let them watch."

Cindy gave Libby a pointed look.

"You don't have to use names," Libby said, "Now, where did we leave off?"

The boys took a seat obediently on the bed, and suddenly, all eyes were on Cindy.

"Uh…"

"What did I say about stuttering?" Libby said.

Cindy narrowed her eyes at her best friend, but continued all the same. "As you're probably already aware…wait, I can't do this without saying his name."

"Use a fake name," Libby suggested.

"Like what?" Cindy asked, exasperated.

"Pancho the Llama Man?"

"Oh! Oooooooh! Ultra Lord! Pleeeeeeease use Ultra Lord!"

"Fine, use Ultra Lord," Libby smiled.

Cindy cleared her throat and tried again. "As you're probably already aware…Ultra...Lord…that's so dumb!"

Libby shook her head. "Would you rather use real names?" she asked, throwing a meaningful glance that reminded Cindy that Jimmy's two best friends were currently in the room. And, given their track record, they would spill the knowledge first chance they got, assuming they weren't outwitted by Jimmy to reveal it first.

Cindy sighed. "…Ultra Lord, that the school year is coming to a close and we'll likely be sent off to far-flung places, maybe never to see one another again."

"Boring! Guys don't want to listen to a bunch of stupid words and feelings!" Sheen remarked.

"Hey, I thought it was pretty good," Libby hushed him.

"'Cause you're a GIRL! We men like it cut and dry!"

"Sheen's right," Carl piped up, "You kinda gotta get to the point with us."

"Exactly! If you wait to long, we start to phase out and think about other things!" Sheen explained.

"Okay," Cindy said, gritting her teeth in frustration, "How's this? Truth is, Ultra Lord—I still think that's totally stupid—I really do like you…like, more than friends."

"Better," Sheen replied sagely, "But you think you could do it topless? It'd be better, I mean."

Cindy grunted in frustration and stormed out of the room.

Sheen looked at Libby who was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What? I was trying to help!"

Libby waited obediently by her locker for Cindy on the following Tuesday. After she had shooed Sheen and Carl out of the house on Saturday night, she had dragged Cindy back upstairs to practice her confession some more. By the next morning, she had almost had it down perfectly, so Libby took her to the Retroville mall, where, after four hours of shopping, they had come up with a "sexy little ditty" that fulfilled every "what men love" point in the March issue of "Glam Gal" magazine. By Sunday evening, they had the entire outfit coordinated, and they had spent the whole of Monday putting honey-colored highlights in Cindy's hair as she perfected her speech. Libby had gone to Cindy's house early that morning to help her friend quaff her blonde tresses, but she had not seen the entire finished product yet, as she had to pick up Sheen and drive him to school. She looked at her watch—Cindy was a few minutes late than she normally was, but then again, she was going all out today. Luckily, to curb her boredom, Sheen came trotting up to her, back from his trip to the cafeteria vending machine for breakfast.

"Wanna Strudel-Licious roll, my queen?" he beamed, extending the individually wrapped pastry to her.

"Thanks, Sheen," she said, taking the icing-covered confection in her right hand. She was about to open it when she caught sight of her friend.

Cindy strolled down the hall like some sort of divine supermodel, her new sandals clicking on the hallway floor. Her hair was as Libby had left it that morning, still wavy and shiny as it licked the top of her shoulders. Her makeup was freshly done, giving her a glowing look against the white of her (slightly tight) polo shirt. A short dark green skirt finished the look off and only helped to accentuate her eyes. Libby beamed at how perfectly her plan had worked.

"Oh my God, girl," she said as Cindy approached her locker, "You look great! This'll work for sure!"

"Thanks," Cindy smiled. She stopped a moment to place some books in her locker, then turned to Libby, her face serious again. "You really, REALLY think this is gonna work?"

"Hell yes. If he doesn't find you hot right now, he doesn't find ANY girl hot. Button down those two buttons, though," she said, pointing to the shirt, "Gives the look a little sex appeal. It'll only help 'Operation: Tuesday' to be a success."

"You don't think it'll be too much?"

"Are you NUTS?" Sheen exclaimed from behind Libby's shoulder.

Cindy rolled her eyes, but complied. "Well, off to math class."

"Tell me how it went when we go to third period!" Libby made her promise.

Cindy nodded, then headed for 1st period calculus. She strode toward the opened door, stopped to gather her breath, then strode in normally, as if it were any given Tuesday, and not one of the most important Tuesdays of her life. She slowly passed the teacher's unoccupied desk, taking a little pleasure in the way the boys in the class were staring at her. She strained her peripheral vision to see if the one person who mattered was watching her. He wasn't at first—he was drawing some schematic or something. He looked up just as she was walking past the overhead projector, and Cindy tried to fight back a grin as she watched his eyes widen and his cheeks darken.

Bingo.

She sat demurely in her desk (in front of his) and took out her needed materials. She pretended not to notice him until he leaned over his desk to whisper into her ear.

"I didn't think you were going to take this Tuesday thing THIS seriously."

"Whatever do you mean?" she sang sweetly.

"You're…um…dressed up."

"Oh? You noticed?"

"Well…kinda hard not to."

Yes! Cindy thought, He's noticed my efforts! Maybe this WILL be easy after all!

"Oh? Is that your way of saying you approve?" she asked coyly.

Jimmy blushed again, and was glad Cindy wasn't looking at him. "Well, I…er…"

"Alright, alright, class," the teacher walked in, cutting off Jimmy's response, "Let's get to work."

For the remainder of the class, Cindy took notes half-heartedly as she concentrated on getting a chance to talk to Jimmy before they parted ways for second period. She didn't even notice when the bell rang, and was stirred out of her thoughts only when a student from the 2nd period Algebra 1A class shook her shoulder roughly.

"Hey. Your class is over, you dork," she glared.

Cindy glared back, but then gathered her things quickly and ran to the hall. She scanned the sea of students for the large-headed boy of her dreams, but, to her chagrin, her was nowhere to be found. She sighed in defeat, then headed for her next class.

Normally, public speaking was a great time for her, but she sat in her seat silently, squirming as gnawing doubt began to eat at her. He never said he LIKED her efforts…maybe he just thought she looked like a trollop? Was he secretly laughing at her in the Chemistry lab right now? Was he calling her a silly little girl as he effortlessly whizzed through his assignments? She tugged a little at her hair as her mind raced, filled with thoughts. Did she remember all she had planned to say? Panicked, she reviewed the entire speech in her head 10 times over the course of the class, stopping only between practice 6 and 7 to deliver the short speech she had prepared on Social Darwinism to the class. She headed to English class in a daze as she started to debate whether or not the practiced confession truly sounded the way she had planned it to be.

She didn't know she was chewing her fingernails until Libby pointed it out just minutes before class.

"Quit that," she scolded, "I worked really hard to pick out that shade of nail polish."

Cindy smiled apologetically as she placed her hands on the desk.

"Soooooo," Libby drawled, "How'd it go?"

"It didn't," she confessed, "I didn't get to tell him."

"What? Why not?" Libby asked.

"Well, we DID have class," Cindy replied.

"You could have told him AFTER class," Libby countered, having none of Cindy's excuses.

"I tried."

"Uh huh. You're telling him at lunch. I'll MAKE you if I have to."

Cindy bit her lip. She took a small bit of solace in the fact that she had a whole 50 minute class period to make her final tweaks to the confession, but she found that that time period passed much faster than she had ever imagined it could.

Libby practically dragged her to the lunchroom, where she knew Jimmy would be sitting at his usual table. Cindy stopped in the doorway, despite Libby's nudging.

"What?" her friend said, annoyed, "Get the hell over there!"

"…I wanna…eat first. That's it. Can't confess hard-kept secrets on an empty stomach," Cindy laughed nervously.

"Fine. But after you eat your taquitos, you're going to sing like a canary, got it?" With that said, Libby headed for the lunch line. Cindy made to follow her, but then thought better of it.

If I get lunch, Libby's going to make me spill to Jimmy. What if he says he's not interested? What if he LAUGHS at me? How will I handle 4th and 5th period with him? her mind screamed, I have to do something—ANYTHING—to prevent that from happening! I'm not ready!

She looked around wildly for a quick solution to her problem, and smiled broadly when she found it. Peering around the room carefully to make sure no one was watching, she headed for her small red savior.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG!

Cindy tried her hardest to look shocked by the sudden sound of the fire alarm before she joined the rest of the student body in evacuating the building.

Libby gave Cindy a look as she walked past her blonde friend's desk.

"What?" Cindy asked.

"I don't suppose you had anything to do with the lunchtime 'diversion,' did you?"

"Of course not," Cindy said, waving off the accusation, "You shouldn't say things like that, you could get me detention."

"Umm. Well, then where DID you go after they gave us the all clear to go back in?"

"The library. I remembered I had some books to return…don't want to get any overdue notices."

Libby smacked her forehead in frustration. "Ugh! Enough of this! You're going to tell him RIGHT NOW."

Cindy was about to open her mouth with the first excuse that popped into her head, but a shrill voice came over the intercom before she had a chance.

"Miss O'Brien?" the voice called out to the teacher, who was straightening the notes on her podium.

"Yes?" the teacher replied.

"Mrs. Obach would like to see Cindy Vortex in her office, please."

"Oh, of course," she answered, then turned to Cindy, "Well, go on."

Cindy stood, beaming. For once in her life, she thanked her mother silently for forcing her onto the student council and into insipid mid-class meetings with the council's sponsor, Mrs. Obach. She grabbed her things and trotted off happily, even as Libby shook her head.

Cindy didn't return to a classroom until nearly 10 minutes into 5th period. Mrs. Obach had droned on about something regarding the senior class trip, but Cindy had used the precious time to think more about her confession to Jimmy. By the time she waltzed into Anatomy, she had managed to talk herself into just getting it over with.

"Oh, Cindy, there you are," Mr. Segram clapped his gloved hands together, "I was afraid you were going to miss our dissection today. Team up with Mr. Neutron in station 12—we're doing digestion!"

"Oh, fantastic," Cindy smiled as best she could. She hadn't really planned to tell Jimmy of her feelings over a dead pig, but she felt if she didn't do it now, there would only be never. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, donned a lab apron and goggles, and pulled on a pair of latex gloves before joining Jimmy, who had already opened up the pig's torso.

"Hey, Vortex."

"Nerdtron."

"So, how'd your confession go?" he said, poking at the small intestine and then jotting something down on a piece of paper.

"Um…I haven't done it yet."

"Don't you have any classes with this guy?"

"A few. What's with the interrogation?" Cindy asked as she grabbed a scalpel and sliced open the stomach.

"Just thought I'd catch up. I told you to report back when you actually ask the guy."

"I WILL. I just haven't asked him yet, so there's nothing to report."

"When you remove the digestive organs today, make sure you put them in the biohazard bin when you're finished, okay? NOT the regular trashcan," the teacher cut into their conversation.

"You seem a little high-strung about it," Jimmy grinned at her.

"Oh yeah? Maybe it just comes from having to dig elbow-deep in pig guts next to the like of you when I could be putting the finishing touches on my look," she glared.

Damn! she scolded herself, Why are you being so hostile? This isn't going to win you any points with him, so knock it off!

"Well, it may not be fashionable," Jimmy replied, "But if you want even a slight prayer in beating me to valedictorian, you'd better dig deep."

Cindy caught herself before she rose to the bait, and continued to slice away in silence. She was working on the gall bladder when she finally spoke again.

"Um, Jimmy?"

"Hmm?" he inquired, not looking up from the microscope he was currently looking through.

"About that confession…"

"What about it?" he asked, still not looking at her as he jotted down observations of the stomach rugae wet-slide he'd prepared.

Cindy turned the probe in her hands twice and then jabbed lightly at the pig's pancreas. "I…well…the truth is…"

Cindy didn't even see it coming when Oleander tripped over the microscope's power cord and he spilled his tray of removed pig organs all over the back of her shirt. Cindy gasped in horror at the sheer feel of intestine on her shoulder, but reacted only when she realized the whole thing had happened IN FRONT of Jimmy. She shrieked loudly before she grabbed paper towels in a desperate attempt to clean up her new shirt.

"Sorry," Oleander apologized sheepishly as Cindy gave his a look that would have melted steel.

"Oh my," Mr. Segram shook his head, "Go ahead and go to the bathroom and clean that up, Cindy. Oleander, grab some orange cleaner and clean up the mess on the floor."

Before anyone could comment on the situation, Cindy fled to the bathroom, trying to decide if she was more frustrated with the fact that her confession was interrupted, or that her 55-dollar blouse was now probably ruined.

Cindy managed to avoid seeing Libby after 6th period, which was good, for Cindy had just about given up on coming clean to Jimmy that day. There would be other times, she thought morosely as she strolled back from the Candy Bar, where she had stopped in after school (and a fresh change of clothes), Assuming he wasn't totally repulsed by the pig thing. She walked the streets silently, lost in thought when a voice called out.

"Vortex!"

Cindy turned to see Jimmy pulling up beside her in his hover car.

"Going home?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Get in."

Cindy sat down on the passenger seat beside him and held on to the armrests as he sped off.

"I'm assuming you've told the lucky man by now," he said, cutting straight to the chase, "And was I right, or was I right?"

Cindy remained silent.

"Well?"

She shrugged, but said nothing.

"You didn't tell him? Jeez, how long is it gonna take you, Cindy? Tuesday's only going to last another 6 hours, 13 minutes, and 28 seconds."

"Well it's not like it's EASY, Nerd-bomb!" she exploded.

"Sure it is. 'Hey, stupid Boy-band-looking guy, you're cute. Let's date.' See? Easy," he grinned.

"Yeah," Cindy spat, "Easy for you to say. If it's so darn easy Mr. I-have-all-the-answers, let's see YOU go tell that girl you were talking about!"

Jimmy's face collapsed into a frown.

"See!" she accused, pointing a long finger at him, "Not so simple now, is it Mr. High and Mighty?"

"Well…I didn't say…"

"Now that I've turned the tables on you, suddenly it's too hard, right?" she crowed, not letting the point drop.

"I never said that!"

"Then why don't you do it, brainiac?"

"Fine! I will!" he shouted, then stepped on the accelerator. Cindy blinked at him a few times as he sped down the road in silence. He stopped the hover car abruptly in front of his house and turned off the vehicle.

"Well," Cindy piped up, "Are you gonna go tell your 'fair lady' or what? Or are you finally going to admit that I had a point when I said it was difficult?"

He said nothing as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

"You chickening out?" Cindy pressed.

"No!"

"Then do it!"

Cindy had been practicing martial arts for over a decade, but she wasn't at all prepared when Jimmy's arm shot out and grabbed her. Before she could even comprehend that she had been jerked from her seat and onto his, she found her lips pressed firmly onto his.

Her mind registered shock at first; surely, she was dreaming. Shock gave way to giddiness as she realized that the taste of his warm breath and the pressure from his soft lips was triggering far too many senses to NOT be real. Giddiness was about to melt into pleasure and she was about to return his kiss when he abruptly broke the contact. They sat for a minute, staring at one another before Jimmy blushed a dark crimson.

When he said nothing, Cindy spoke up. "Well, that was…what was that?"

He ran a hand through his hair desperately. " I don't know. I mean…I was trying to think of something to say, but I COULDN'T. Then I remembered how ABYSMAL I as with words, and so I was lost. I didn't know what to do so I just did the first thing I could think of…" he rambled.

"Whoa, wait. Let me get this straight, now. I'M your fabulous wonder girl?"

He blushed in response. "Sorry."

Cindy blinked a few times to herself. She wanted to cheer for her luck, cry for joy and laugh at the irony all at the same time, but found herself simply staring at him.

"Uh, Cindy? You're kind of freaking me out," Jimmy's voice shook her out of her trance, "Look, I don't expect you to return my feelings or anything, but please, stop staring like that."

Cindy shook her head. "Sure."

"Sooooo," Jimmy laughed nervously, rubbing his neck sheepishly, "See? Easy. I told you it would be, and I'm almost never wrong."

Cindy raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

"Anyway, I should get inside and work on a few inventions or something, and you should go confess undying love to some guy," he said, opening his door and hopping out, "I'll see you tomorrow in school. Hopefully there won't be any mishaps with pig intestines…"

Cindy watched as he walked briskly to his front door, and called out to him just before he reached for the doorknob. "Jimmy!"

He turned around to face her as she leapt from the vehicle and stood in front of him.

"You're going to pick me up at 7 o'clock on Friday night. You're going to pick me up in your REAL car, I'm going to pick the restaurant, and you're going to pick the movie. Dress nicely. And pick me up on time—I hate when anyone keeps me waiting," she said, poking a finger into his chest.

"But…"

"Do you want a date or not?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"W-what about your secret crush?" he sputtered.

"Either he wants a date or he doesn't! Now what'll it be? Movie and dinner or no?"

"Wha…I…yeah."

"Good. Remember. Seven."

"Right. Dress nicely."

She nodded, then leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. She took great pleasure in the fact that he was about as stunned with her advances as she had been with his. She walked across the street to her house slowly, looking back quickly only once to find him still gazing at her. She made it to her doorstep, then opened her front door and walked inside. She closed the door with one foot and sprinted to her room; when she reached it she threw herself on her bed and screeched with delight into her pillow. After her outburst and racing pulse died down, she sat up, and noticed that Libby was online, and looking for answers.

Musiklvr87: Hey girl. I'll be online all night. Let me know how "Operation: Tuesday" went.

Cindy took a seat at her computer and smiled as she replied.

CVsmarterthanJN: You there?

Musiklvr87: There you are! Well? How'd the mission go?

Cindy peered out her window and found that Jimmy was watching from his window. Grinning, she held up seven fingers to him.

From across the street, he laughed, gave her a 'thumbs up', and waved 'good-night' before drawing his curtains. Cindy grinned to the monitor.

CVsmarterthanJN: Complete success.

Fini

A/N: Hello all. One of my biggest requests in my reviews was for a "sequel" of sorts to "Dojo Dialogue." While I'll admit that I really didn't plan to write one when I wrote "DD," a specific request by a reader really pushed me over the fence and made me decide to do it. So for better or for worse, Sara, this one's for you. :)

J.