M or F?

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Authors: Lisa Papademetriou
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rolled over on Frannie’s bed and pulled a pillow close to my chest. “Do you see anything else in that crystal ball of yours?”
    â€œI see another double date,” she said. “For me and Jeffrey, and you and your new boyfriend.”
    â€œRight. Because there are so many gay boys at Boring Brook to choose from,” I said.
    â€œIt doesn’t have to be someone from school. It could be . . . Goatee Guy. You could get off your butt and ask him out once and for all.”
    â€œWell,” I said, “For one thing, he doesn’t work at the mall anymore. And for another thing, we don’t even know his real name.” Goatee Guy was the probably gay, definitely cute former assistant manager at Made in the Shades, where in the past year I’d bought not one but three pairs of sunglasses I didn’t need.
    â€œWhat happened to him?” Frannie asked.
    â€œThat’s the point,” I said. “You’ll have to check the crystal ball again.”
    â€œWell, then, what about . . .” She trailed off.
    I sat up on the bed and looked straight at her. “Yes? Who?”
    â€œWell . . .”
    â€œExactly. So can we go online now, please? I already know what screen name you should use.”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œTempeh Burger.”
    â€œMmmm,” she said. “Very sexy.”
    I got up and swiveled her chair so she was facing the computer. “It shows him you have a sense of humor. And he’ll know it’s you right away.”
    â€œWell, then why don’t I just say Frannie?”
    â€œBecause then everyone will know it’s you,” I said.
    â€œOh yeah.” She typed in TEMPEHBURGER and went in. Almost right away, she pulled her hands back from the keyboard. “There he is,” she said. I looked down and saw that the first lines of chat had come in, including one from Jeffrey.
    <>
    Frannie still looked like she had been caught at something. “Uh, you know he can’t see you, right?” I asked her.
    Her response was a glare in my direction. “Just . . . tell me what to say.” She put her hands tentatively back on the keys while another line scrolled by.
    <>
    Astrid. Of course.
    â€œEe-ew,” Frannie said. Then she stood up. “This is too much for me to handle. You go.”
    I could have told Frannie that no, in fact, this wasn’t too much for her to handle and that she owed it to herself to keep going. But the alternate response meant I got to do a little of the driving. And I like to drive.
    â€œWhat do you want me to say?” I asked, sitting in her place.
    â€œTell him I said hi. And . . . I had a good time at lunch. And I didn’t know if maybe . . . um . . . I don’t know. Maybe . . .” Her face brightened. “Should I ask him about going out again?”
    â€œI have a better idea,” I said, and typed in a private message to Jeffo.
    <>
    â€œThat’s good too,” she said, and I hit send. He came back a second later.
    <>
    â€œHe knows it’s me!” Frannie sounded glad and surprised. “Good name choice.”
    â€œTold you so,” I said.
    <>
    <>
    In the main chat room, Astrid wasn’t giving up so easily.
    <>
    Frannie saw it too. “Go back to Germany!” she yelled at the screen.
    <>
    â€œAuuugh,” Frannie groaned. “He’s talking to her too.”
    <>
    <>
    â€œGenius!” Frannie said. She grabbed my shoulders and started rubbing them.
    â€œSo where do you want to tell him

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