He seemed puzzled, then picked up on it. “Oh, that. I'm supposed to help choose music for the Homecoming Dance this Saturday. It's an eighties theme.”

“I heard.”

“You know how it is. Wait thirty years and everything is retro and cool again.”

“Hmm.” She rocked on her heels. He cleared his throat.

“Well,” she said. “I guess I should be—”

“Want to see my star?” he said at the same time.

* * *

Peter peered through the finder scope, then adjusted the focuser. He squinted through the eyepiece, which went fuzzy, then clear. In the center was a tiny, faint dot. He checked the coordinates on a small blue piece of paper again to be sure.

“There it is if you want to see it.”

They were on his back porch. A ceiling fan turned slowly above them. The

telescope was perched on a brass tripod near the railing, angled up past the trees.

He was fortunate the star was in the right position tonight.

Kate came by his side. “I look through here?” she asked, pointing at the eyepiece.

“Yup.”

She hunched over, knees bent, squinting through the eyepiece. Peter's eyes lingered on her shapely jeans.

“What's it called? Peter's Death Star?”

“Officially, it's called 6890:1457:1. But I named it Lucky.”

She looked up. “You call it Lucky Star?”

“After my dog, Lucky.”

“Oh, Lucky,” she said, seeming to remember. “I loved Lucky, the little

bugger.” She returned to the eyepiece. “You know, as techie as this is, it's kind of cool,” she said. “I mean, who knows if there's life on a planet revolving around

that star. And it's named after Lucky.”

Peter smiled, held tilted. “You know, that's probably the geekiest thing I've

ever heard you say.”

“Oh, I see,” she said as she stood up, smiling. “Got your blood moving, huh?

Well, how about I—”

She took a step forward, but her foot caught one of the legs of the telescope

tripod, tripping her. Peter immediately reached for her arm, catching it as her other arm swung around and frantically grabbed his shoulder to keep from falling. Gravity did the rest. Both tumbled back into the padded wicker love seat, feet twisting, Kate landing face to face on top of Peter with an oof!

As quickly as it happened, they both were now frozen, arms clutching arms,

staring at each other's faces, inches apart, mouths open, eyes wide. The moment

of embarrassed silence broke when both burst out into simultaneous laughter.

Kate rolled off Peter and slumped next to him on the padded seat.

“Nice moves, Clark,” she said.

“Me? Uh-uh—you were the tripper. I was just the catcher.”

“Mmm…no, I think you put that tripod thing there on purpose.”

“I'm not that smooth. I'm a scientist, remember? We're only interested in cold, hard facts.”

“Right. Chemical reactions in the brain.”

Peter could smell her perfume. If it was just chemicals in his brain, they were certainly fizzing. He cleared his throat. “So, Kate, since you're here—”

“Yes?”

“There's something I wanted to ask you.”

She turned to him, brown eyes focused. She was so close now. “What's

that?”

“It's not a huge thing, really. More of a favor. You probably won't even be in

town.”

“Okay, then forget it.” She turned away.

“No, I mean, you might be around. If you're in town.”

She turned back. “I won't know unless you tell me what it is first.”

“Right. So this Homecoming Dance is this week. Saturday night.”

“So you said.” She just looked at him, nodding once, waiting.

“And the teachers are allowed to go. With the students. Not with the