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first.” She smiled again.
     “Don’t freak out if I do.”
    “Don’t be silly….” Brandon said, and laughed awkwardly.
    Cora laughed—a real laugh—gave an awkward sort of wave, and then walked away.
    It was so unfair, Brandon thought, watching her walk down the path in the crystal-bright morning sunshine. How had the computer
     missed his perfect compatibility with Callie, after all the work he’d put into it? It wasn’t fair to him—and it certainly
     wasn’t fair to that poor Cora girl, who had probably been hoping for a real match, someone who would get excited about going
     to the movie screening together or take the time to actually stop and have a conversation.
    He turned to head toward his classroom but then stoppedat the bottom step of the bio building. He hadn’t recognized Cora’s name when he’d read it—and he certainly wouldn’t have
     recognized
her
if he’d been asked to pick her out of a lineup. Or a yearbook. Or, really, anywhere.
    But she’d certainly recognized him.
     
----
Owl Net
Instant Message Inbox
----
    AlisonQuentin: Who’s your Perfect Match?
    BennyCunningham: Lon Baruzza. You?
    AlisonQuentin: Parker DuBois.
    BennyCunningham: Yum. Time to practice your French!
    AlisonQuentin: I already know the most important phrase:
voulez-vous coucher avec moi?
     
----
Owl Net
Instant Message Inbox
----
    RyanReynolds: I got Kara Whalen. Maybe if I get her drunk enough at the ball, she’ll make out with a girl in front of me.
    AlanStGirard: In your dreams. Did you ever stop to think why you might have been paired with a lesbian?
    RyanReynolds: Ouch.

6
A WAVERLY OWL IS RESOLUTE IN HER DECISIONS.
    C allie tugged her hooded pink Juicy robe tighter across her narrow torso and sat down on her bed with a soft sigh. Across the
     room, Jenny was already dressed in a pair of boot-cut black Banana Republic cords that could almost pass for Sevens and a
     funky, deep blue V-neck sweater. She was standing with her back to Callie, pulling her mass of brown curls into a ponytail.
     Callie ran her hand through her fresh-from-the-shower hair and then let it drop. She couldn’t seem to get moving today, even
     though she had class in less than an hour and really should have been dressed already. She couldn’t quite bring herself to
     get up and admit the day had begun—because she wanted to keep daydreaming.
    Last night she’d stayed outside with Easy until they were both chilled through to the bone. Callie had come back upstairs
     still in a trance, before she’d happily drifted off to sleep, her mind filled with
Easy, Easy, Easy.
    “So?” Jenny turned to look at Callie, her brown eyes sparkling. Her high ponytail swung perkily behind her. “You were going
     to tell me about your dreams last night. I bet I can guess what they were about,” she teased.
    Callie smiled slowly. “You’re only half right,” she said.
    She’d dreamed that she was reclining on some kind of plush red velvet chaise, dressed in a fabulous Old Hollywood–esque gown,
     her strawberry blond hair in perfect pin curls. Easy had been stretched out beside her, his blue eyes glowing with love and
     his military-toned body packed into a sleek suit that the real Easy would only wear to a wedding. The dream would have been
     amazing enough if it had stopped there. But it hadn’t. Brandon had been right there, too, on her other side. The cool, confident
     Brandon that Callie had fallen for all over again during Jan Plan, in a perfectly cut Burberry suit with a knowing look in
     his golden brown eyes.
    Each one of them had held a bunch of red grapes, which they took turns feeding to Callie as she lay between them like Cleopatra.
     First, Easy pressed a cool, sweet grape to her lips, then Brandon teased her with the next. Callie could still practically
     taste the fruit on her tongue.
    You’re a goddess,
Dream Easy whispered.
    You’re perfect,
Dream Brandon agreed.
    It had practically killed Callie to wake up. No wonder she’d