Warning: Profanity, sexual content, and crude humor. (Literally, what's new?)

A/N: I'm more than halfway into this season of 7teen, and I'm so excited about it. I feel like my ideas from the past few years for this series are finally coming to fruition at the right time, seeing that I've developed the improved writing skills to complement my concepts. What a time to be alive, y'all.


Chapter 1: Take-Out

Four days.

Four days flew by since Sydni started talking to Alejandro.

Since last Saturday night at the gang's sleepover—when, at Caitlin's behest, she decided to text him back—her phone lit up with sweet nothings from him on the daily. Whether it was a like and a comment left on an Instagram photo or a musing about her looks via text message, her heart fluttered over each notification all the same.

Aside from all the cyber flirtation, they'd engaged in conversation during spare time, learning the little things about each other. Of course, the little things to him were ginormous in her widened eyes. Upon learning that he once lived in Japan (due to his dad's career as a diplomat), knew how to speak three different languages before the age of fifteen (English, Japanese, and Spanish), and interned on a reality show's set (when he flirted with the idea of becoming a director), she wondered what he perceived to be major.

He told her that she'd learn the collosal things "in due time," and she could imagine him punctuating such a statement with a suave smile and a wink of his forest-green eyes. (God, even in photos, his eyes were mesmerizing. They put the lush green hues of Amazon rainforest to shame. Shit, they put her own to shame. When she thought about it, her eyes were merely the color of mud.)

For Alejandro not to be a writer, nor have any aspirations to become one—he instead mentioned the desire to become an attorney—his mastery over the English language swept her off her feet. Even through text, where informality and miscommunication thrived, his words were deliberately chosen and smooth when she read them with the inner voice in her head. The boy radiated a debonair energy.

Meanwhile, even though becoming a writer lit her heart aflame, she couldn't help contrasting how often she slipped into the ease of ebonics when speaking and texting (though she did apply proper grammar in other ways to keep the readability there). She felt clunkier in comparison, but, nevertheless, she allowed him to hype her self-esteem by calling her fawn-like grace "cute."

Currently, she walked through the mall, glancing down at her phone as she typed a reply to his texts, looking up momentarily to make sure she wouldn't run into anything like a pole or a person or a potted plant… again. She was grateful that he didn't see her bump into one of the mall kiosks and immediately keel over. Typically, she swore gravity had a hit out on her, but she knew she was in the wrong for texting while walking. She was hardly qualified to walk without a distraction, let alone walk while on her phone.

Technically, she had two distractions in her hand: her phone itself and the flirty musings this boy filled her screen (and her head) with. Her ex-boyfriend was more subtle with his come-ons at the start of their relationship; it was so easy to ease into the concept of them, into allowing him to compliment her and call her "saucy" and be his girl. Alejandro, on the other hand, was direct. Not one for subtlety or staying lowkey. He showed his hand quite early into their interactions. Every little text gave her a dizzying little rush.

To no one's surprise, the biggest rush of all sent her reeling: he just asked her on a date.

In her mind, she yelled, Holy shit, but, through text, she replied, Sure!

(As much as she wanted to forgo the exclamation point to make herself seem cool and composed in his eyes, she couldn't bring herself to delete it. It was all a part of the rush.)

Does Friday work for you? he asked.

Totally, she said, deciding two exclamation points in a row would have been overkill. She was over-the-moon, but he didn't need to know all of that. (In the wise words of her best friend Michaela, "Pressed ain't pretty, sis.") Thus, she extinguished her over-the-top excitement for him and cooled it.

Cool. Just pick the place and I'll pick you up, beautiful.

He'd been calling her some variation of that last word all week (and, really, all summer). She should have been used to it. Yet, still, her heart beat against her sternum with that all-too-familiar thump thump.

Suddenly, she had a date with Alejandro on Friday night.

She had a date with Alejandro on Friday night.

She had a date with Alejandro in two fucking days.

For the first time in days, she was overwhelmed not with joy, but with nervousness.


Jen swirled her plastic straw around and around her lemon squishy, every now and then taking a sip, but her priority was absentmindedly swirling it around. Her body was on a stool at the Big Squeeze's counter, but her mind was light years away and her boy was unresponsive.

"You okay?" Caitlin asked, dragging her back to earth.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she said, dazed after a sudden landing. With eyes averted, she couldn't help feeling embarrassed about having a Jude moment. She loved him, but that boy lived in space. She (normally) couldn't relate.

"Really? Because you're looking the opposite of that."

She sighed, choosing to meet Caitlin's gaze and be honest. After a moment, she said, "Nick cancelled our date."

Her jaw dropped. "Again?!"

"Again."

"Aww, Jen, I'm sorry. What's up with him?"

"I have no clue, Cait. I really like him, but he just downright sucks at communicating. And it's so frustrating because I blocked out another Friday night to hang out with him."

On her downtime—if such a term existed in her vocabulary—she applied for scholarships, prepared for college applications, helped her parents with her baby sister, and kept Jonesy and his brothers from making the house moldy and crusty. However, Friday nights were for vegging out and binge-watching cop shows. Nick came over her house a couple weeks ago to watch some with her, but he wasn't feeling them, to her dismay. Thus, this Friday night, he wanted to take her out for a change, but, of course—when she tailored her schedule and got her excitement up—he bailed on her again. With no real explanation. For the second Friday in a row. Ugh, of course it was the one time she wanted to go out the house and ditch her Friday ritual.

It was fun dating a mysterious, creative type until it came down to the real issues. And it didn't help that their shifts at the Penalty Box weren't alike anymore.

With a frown on her lips and a slump in her back, she added, "I was really looking forward to it."

"Well, hopefully my news can help make things better," Caitlin offered.

She straightened up and raised an eyebrow. "Go on…"

"Daddy's got a meeting with a client on Friday night at this really fancy Italian restaurant, so me and my mom are gonna go with him, and they said that I can bring a friend with me," she said, beaming at the friend in question. "So…"

"So, I'm totally down!"

Caitlin clapped her hands. "Yay!"

"Do you know which restaurant it is?"

"It's called Solato e Dolce. I heard they've got a gnocchi soup that's to die for." Her mouth salivated in anticipation. "Mmm, I love Italian food… maybe just as much as I love their shoes," she added with a giggle.

"Well, looks like I'm about to drown my sorrows in free pasta for a night," Jen quipped, making a mental note to jog around her neighborhood on Saturday morning. She grinned after her joke, but it lacked real heart.

"Hey, cheer up," Caitlin said. "Everything'll be okay."

Despite the frustration she felt over her absent boyfriend, her best friend had a point. This was only temporary. She allowed herself to relax her tense shoulders, resolving that—after hanging with Caitlin on Friday and working out on Saturday—she would reach out to Nick on Sunday. She wanted to clear the air once she had a clear mind.

Jen offered her a tiny smile. "Thanks, Cait."

"It's what I'm here for."


Sydni had been so caught up in the mindless flirtation that she forgot Alejandro was supposed to make another move by asking her on a real date. She'd been so content with their back-and-forth conversations and, while she longed to go out with him, it scared her out of her mind.

Doubts circled her head like vultures, waiting to feed on this relationship before it could even become one.

What if it doesn't go well?

What if there's that awkward silence that neither of us know how to fill?

What if he thinks I'm weird in person?

What if he thinks I'm boring?

What if we run out of things to talk about?

What if…

She let the last of the all-consuming what ifs die before it could become a fully developed thought.

Bitch, shut up.

At the rate she nitpicked herself and possible scenarios, it seemed as though she didn't want to go out with him (which couldn't be further from the truth). However, she needed a safety net with her on Friday, to make sure she didn't fall straight into an abyss of what ifs that became real.

After a moment of deep thinking, a smile spread across her lips. She found her net.


Despite it being her day off, Sydni strolled into the Khaki Barn to see Nikki folding crop tops drowning in ruffles and skirts that matched.

"Seriously, who would wear this?" she heard Nikki mutter as she approached her.

"You mean to tell me I can't pull this off?" Sydni joked, grabbing her attention.

Nikki looked up. "I mean, if you want to look like a sack of cotton candy, be my guest."

She feigned annoyance, playing into their banter. "Um, that's the new style, Nikki. It's the look everyone's going for."

"Apparently, because the Tacky Barn is stocking it."

"Well, I'm here for it," she said, crossing her arms in attempt to appear tough.

The two of them began chuckling seconds later.

"Yeah, I'm never shopping here," Sydni said after her laughter subsided. "Like, I don't mind working here, but the clothes are too… too—"

"White-girls-trying-to-be-on-trend-and-judging-you-if-you're-not?"

"Exactly."

"I feel that. Let me reiterate: I'm only here for my college fund and my traveling fund."

She shrugged. "You gotta do what you gotta do to get by."

"Yep."

Sydni realized she found her opening. "And speaking of doing what you gotta do…"

"Uh huh?" Nikki asked, raising her pierced eyebrow.

"Alejandro finally asked me on a date,"—she twirled a lock of her hair around and around—"but I'm beyond nervous about it. I'm just worried that I might screw something up or that he'll think I'm wack or something, so I was wondering if you and Jonesy wanna go with me and make it a double date on Friday?"

"Sure, I don't mind, and I know I can convince Jonesy to go," Nikki said. "Where's it supposed to be?"

"He's letting me choose, but I have no idea where I want to go."

"Hmm…" Nikki said as she placed her hand on her chin. "Well, maybe we can all go to this new bowling alley downtown together. Jonesy won't stop talking about it, so I might as well go to help you out and to get him to shut up. Two birds, one stone."

"Great! I'll text him and let him know."

She retrieved her phone from her back pocket, trying to find the right wording to tell him she wanted turn their date into a doubled one. Once satisfied with her words, she sent them his way, anxiously awaiting a text back.

I hope he doesn't think it's lame that I wanna go on a double date, especially at a bowling alley. I mean, I like bowling, but does he even like bowling? Um…

Shit, did I misspell bowling? Great. Now he probably thinks I'm a dumb bitch… Wait, never mind. I spelled it right. I'm good. I'm not a dumb bitch… for now.

But what if…

Thankfully, her phone interrupted her ongoing inner monologue. His text extinguished the wildfire of thoughts burning her mind.

Sounds good to me. See you then, beautiful.

Her cheeks tingled with warmth and her heartbeat thump thumped against her sternum once more.

"We're good to go," she told both herself and Nikki.