To be honest, Felicity has never cared very much about Homecoming. The football game, the school spirit, the big dance — it's just never been on her radar. But this year, she's actually kind of excited about it, especially the dance. Sure, it would probably be a lot more exciting if she and Oliver were actually going together together, but this way is fine, too. Really.

At first, her is to just go with her usual group — Caitlin and Barry and Cisco — but that falls through as soon as she suggests it. Turns out, Caitlin's going with Ronnie; he rented a limo and made dinner reservations, the whole nine yards. Which is amazing news, because Caitlin's had a crush on him forever, but Felicity didn't even know they'd started going out, let alone that they were doing the full-on dating thing. But Caitlin's over the moon about it, which is awesome.

Even Cisco has a date, he and Hartley apparently both finally admitting that they like each other. And that's great, too. Cisco's great and Hartley, well...Felicity's just glad Cisco's happy. And it's just, Felicity's apparently missed a lot over the past couple of weeks.

She's grateful that Barry has a completely unattainable crush on Iris because otherwise she'd have to go to the dance alone, which she's not sure she's up for, especially considering that Oliver might get elected king and she'll have to watch him dance with whoever wins queen. Laurel, probably.

Lucky for her, Barry doesn't have a date, something he tells her while they're in physics, the two of them setting up their circuit kit for the lab.

"Is Iris going?" Felicity asks gently. Honestly, she wishes Barry would just tell Iris he likes her. Sure, it's kind of weird because of the whole brother-sister thing, and it's got huge heartbreak potential, but anything's got to be better than where he is now, silently pining for a girl who doesn't have any idea how he feels about her.

Barry shrugs, looking down at the table and reaching out to adjust one of the wires. A little jolt of current zaps him and he flinches, jerking his hand away from the circuit. "She's going with Eddie Thawne," he tells her, sounding as bitter as Felicity's ever heard him sound. "They met while she was doing her athlete exposé last week, and apparently really hit it off. He's captain of the soccer team."

Felicity winces in sympathy. "Sorry, Barry."

He shrugs again. "It's fine," he tells her. "And, hey, at least I'm still free to be your plus one."

Felicity smiles at him gratefully. "You sure?"

"Yeah," he says, bumping his shoulder against hers. "Besides, it might be fun. I've never been anyone's beard before."

Felicity laughs, bumping him back hard enough to nudge him out of the way, finishing up the circuit kit herself. Barry's a great guy, but if he's not careful, he's going to get himself electrocuted. And then who would Felicity bring to the dance?

Honestly, it's kind of ridiculous that Felicity's worried about the Homecoming dance at all, especially when she's got much bigger things on her plate.

At the end of her freshman year, Felicity came up with a plan. If she took academic classes for all of her electives and enrolled in at least two classes every summer at Starling Community College, she would have enough credits by the end of her junior year to graduate. So that's what she did. Instead of driver's ed or pottery or study hall, Felicity took computer science and physics and European history. Which is why she is now sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs outside of Principal Steele's office, waiting to present her case to him, and trying to stop thinking about that one stupid B on that one stupid chemistry quiz. She's gotten straight A's since she was in preschool, she reminds herself. She'll be fine. That doesn't stop her from jumping in her seat when Mr. Steele's door opens, the man himself standing there and looking at her expectantly.

"Miss Smoak," he says in a voice that's probably supposed to be warm and inviting, but just makes Felicity even more nervous. "Please come in."

Felicity nods, tugging on the hem of her skirt as she follows him into his office. She's got a folder in her backpack with all of her school records — transcript, report cards, perfect attendance certificates — and she pulls out the file before she sits on the edge of one of the plush leather chairs in front of his desk.

"So," Mr. Steele says, smiling at her and folding his hands on the desk top. "What can I do for you, Felicity?"

"Well," Felicity starts, taking a deep breath, and forcing herself not to fidget with the folder in her lap. "I wanted to talk to you about graduation."

"Graduation?" Principal Steele repeats, sounding confused. "You're a junior, are you not?"

Felicity nods. "Technically, yes," she says, pulling out her transcript and handing it to Mr. Steele. He takes it, but doesn't look at it, his attention still on her. "But after this year, I'll have enough credits to graduate. And I'll have completed all the required classes," Felicity continues, her nervousness just getting worse when he just keeps staring at her. "I'm in two sciences right now, and I took two maths and two histories last year, and an English class at SCC over the summer, and economics in dual enrollment after freshman year. All I need to be able to graduate in May is the school's approval. Which I'm hoping to get. Right now."

Mr. Steele blinks, finally looking down at the packet of paper in his hands. He takes a couple of moments to look it over, flipping through the pages a few times. "I see."

"The application deadline for MIT is in just a few months," Felicity tells him, not sure she can take any more of him not talking. She's always liked Principal Steele, but right now, she wishes he was a little less attached to the whole inscrutable British thing. "And if I want to apply for next fall, I need to get written confirmation that I'll be graduating in the spring."

"I see," Mr. Steele says again, looking back down at her transcript, before glancing back up at her. "I must tell you, early graduation is highly unusual at Starling Academy," he says, and Felicity's heart sinks.

She's worked so hard for this, and it's totally not fair, this stupid school with it's insane rules. It totally figures they won't even consider all the work she's put into this, but they're willing to bend over backwards to give a leg up to any brat with a trust fund, and, seriously, how could they-

"However," he continues, and Felicity's silent rage screeches to a halt. She looks up at him, hopeful. "Your academic record is incredibly impressive. I'll need to run this by the Headmaster, but if he approves, I see no reason you wouldn't be able to graduate in May."

Felicity grins, smiling so wide her face hurts.

Barry picks Felicity up at her house in his dad's car, rumbling up to the curb in the beat-up old Taurus that she knows from experience smells like fast food and stale coffee and that probably has a couple of pairs of old handcuffs floating around in the backseat. Because Barry's dad is a cop. Not for any other reason. Felicity hopes.

Barry's almost twenty minutes late, which for him is basically on time, and she watches from the front window as he dashes from the car in a slim dark suit with a skinny red tie, his Converse peeking out from under the hem of his trousers. He grins when he sees Felicity, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, and Felicity feels herself blush. "Wow," he says, looking her up and down. "You look…wow. You look really good."

Felicity smiles, trying not to tug too much on the hem of her very short dress. When her mom found out she was going to the dance, she was basically completely overjoyed, clapping happily and insisting that she and Felicity go shopping for a dress together. They spent what turned out to be a not entirely un-fun afternoon at the mall, Felicity trying on about a million dresses until she found one that her mother declared was The One. Normally, Felicity would have disagreed just on principle, but the dress is kind of awesome, even if it's something she would have never tried on if not for her mother's insistence, the super-short skirt and strategically placed cut-outs on her hips and shoulders way more Donna's style than Felicity's.

There's a white orchard pinned to Barry's lapel and he slips a matching corsage over her wrist. Her mom isn't working tonight, which means she's home to embarrass Felicity and coo over how handsome Barry looks. She also ends up taking about a million picture of the two of them - which of course only happens after she spends a good ten minutes struggling to figure out how to work the camera - before Felicity's finally able to drag Barry out of the house.

It's only homecoming, not prom or anything, so the dance is actually at the school, the gym decorated with streamers and balloons, a DJ set up on one end of the basketball court. Thanks to her mother's complete inability to operate a camera, combined with Barry's tendency to never be able to get anywhere on time, the dance is already in full-swing by the time they get there, the gym packed with people, the music blaring and the dance floor full.

Felicity tries not to be too obvious about looking for Oliver, but she can't help it, craning her neck and peering around the gym for him as soon as she gets inside.

"He's up there," Barry says in her ear, and Felicity starts, giving him an apologetic look before turning to see where he's pointing, which it turns out is the stage, Oliver and the rest of the Homecoming court lined up — Tommy and Laurel and Dig and a couple of other people Felicity vaguely recognizes from around the school. They're apparently getting ready to announce the king and queen, and the music fades to a stop as Ms. Waller, the senior class sponsor, takes the stage, two plastic crowns held loosely in her hands.

Honestly, Felicity shouldn't be surprised when Oliver and Laurel win Homecoming king and queen, but somehow she is. As soon as Oliver's name is called, Felicity's stomach drops, a sensation that only gets worse a couple of seconds later when they call Laurel's name for queen, and a couple of girls standing behind them start talking about how this totally proves Oliver and Laurel are going to get back together now.

"You know that's not what this means, right?" Barry says, leaning over to talk to her in a low voice. Up on the stage, Oliver and Laurel are holding hands, both of them smiling at each other, looking like the most perfect high school couple anyone could imagine.

Felicity shrugs. "Yeah," she says, watching as Laurel leans over to whisper something in Oliver's ear. He laughs in response, and Felicity feels sort of sick to her stomach. "But you've got to admit that they look good together."

"Nah," Barry says, shaking his head. "They're too perfect. The quarterback and the head cheerleader? Such a cliché."

Felicity just shrugs again as the music cues up, Oliver and Laurel turning to each other, Oliver sliding his arms around Laurel's hips as she gazes up into his eyes, and the sick feeling just gets worse, the hot prickle of tears starting to form behind her eyes. Felicity knows she's probably being ridiculous, and it's not like Oliver chose Laurel for queen or anything, but it still sucks, watching them look all perfect and wonderful together.

"It's just a stupid homecoming court," Barry says, ducking his head and leaning in closer to talk to her, keeping his voice quiet enough so that no one around them can overhear. "It doesn't mean anything."

Felicity just nods, blinking back tears. She knows she's being silly, but Barry's the only one of her friends who knows about her and Oliver and it's kind of been getting to her, keeping this a secret and sneaking around. She thought she could handle it - and she was handling it, she was doing fine - at least until tonight, standing here and being reminded about how she and Oliver just don't make any sense, that Laurel is perfect and gorgeous and they've got this whole long history that Felicity will never have with him.

"Hey." Barry squeezes her against his side in a gentle hug, pulling Felicity's attention away from the sight of Laurel and Oliver smiling and dancing and gazing into each others' eyes "You wanna dance?"

What Felicity really wants to do is go home and sulk and eat a pint of mint chocolate chip and wallow in the knowledge that she and Oliver are probably never going to work out, but instead she nods and gives Barry what she hopes is a smile. "Okay."

He smiles back at her, turning her away from the stage, and sliding his arms loosely around her waist. "Just remember," he tells her as she drapes her arms over his shoulders. "I am a terrible dancer."

Felicity smiles, the horrible, heavy feeling in her stomach getting a little bit lighter. "You're not that bad," she lies.

Barry scoffs. "I'm sorry, do you not remember Caitlin's birthday party last year?" he says. "I stomped on your foot and broke two of your toes. You were on crutches for three weeks."

Felicity laughs, leaning her head against Barry's shoulder. Somehow, she manages to block out the whole Laurel and Oliver thing happening onstage, she and Barry swaying together for a few more songs. It actually turns out to be kind of fun; she and Barry have always had a good time together and tonight's no different, Barry getting a little more bold the longer they're out on the dance floor, his swaying getting more and more dance-like by the song. He's in the middle of attempting what is probably the world's worst dip when someone clears his throat behind them, and when Felicity manages to pull herself upright, Oliver's there.

"Oh," she says. She's a little breathless from the whole dancing thing, and Oliver's watching her with narrowed eyes, his gaze fixed somewhere around her side. Where, Felicity realizes, Barry's still got his hand pressed against the bare skin above her hip.

Barry must realize at the same time because he suddenly yanks his hand away like he's been burned, a look of such abject terror on his face that it would be funny if Oliver wasn't glaring at him quite so hard.

There's a couple of beats of silence and then: "Barry! Hi!" Felicity looks up and Iris is heading in their direction, waving at Barry and popping the bubble of tension that's surrounding Felicity and Oliver and Barry, and Felicity's never been so glad to see Iris in her life. There's a cute blonde guy that Felicity's never met before trailing alongside her, and Felicity guesses this is probably the captain of the soccer team that Barry mentioned.

"Iris," Barry says with a smile, his whole face lighting up in that way it always does when he's around Iris, his fear of Oliver apparently forgotten now that Iris is around. "Hey. Hi. Hey."

Iris smiles, turning to Felicity and giving her a quick hug. "Hi, Felicity," she says, and then adds, "I didn't know you and Barry were back together."

"Back together?" Oliver repeats.

"Uh…" Barry stammers, casting a nervous glance in Oliver's direction and taking a step away from Felicity, putting some space between them. "No, no we're not—"

"We are definitely not," Felicity jumps in quickly. "There is nothing going on between us. We have been down that road, and it just does not work. He's like a brother to me or something," she says, glancing over at Barry, who's gazing at Iris kind of dreamily, so Felicity adds quickly: "Not that being brotherly means you can't be interested in someone, but...I'm not. Interested in Barry. At all. Zero interest. I mean—"

"Yeah, I think they get it," Barry cuts in, sounding annoyed, and Felicity winces, giving him an apologetic look.

"Well, for what it's worth, you guys make a really cute couple," Iris's date says with a sincere smile.

"Oh, sorry!" Iris takes a step back, looping her arm through the guy's, and tugging him closer. Beside Felicity, Barry goes rigid, tension radiating off of him in a way Felicity's never seen before. "This is Eddie," Iris says, beaming. "Eddie, this is Felicity. And you already know Barry."

"I don't know Barry," Oliver suddenly announces, stepping forward into the center of the group. He's wearing a dark suit with a green tie, and he somehow manages to look even bigger than he normally does, the cut of his jacket accentuating the thickness of his arms and chest.

"Um," Barry says with a nervous smile. "Hi. I'm Barry. I'm Felicity's…friend." Oliver doesn't move, just shifts his gaze over to Felicity, and Barry swallows hard, glancing back at her before taking a step forward and reaching out to shake Oliver's hand.

Oliver blinks before he reaches out to take Barry's hand, staring hard at him the entire time. When Oliver's hand closes around his, Barry's smile falters, his eyes going wide and pained. Oliver smirks, but he doesn't let go of Barry's hand, not even when Barry makes a quiet, pained noise and tries to pull his hand away.

Felicity narrows her eyes at him because, seriously? What is his problem?

"You're Felicity's ex-boyfriend?" Oliver says, ignoring Felicity's glare and zeroing in on Barry instead.

"Um," Barry says again, and his voice shakes slightly as he tries again to tug his hand out of Oliver's grasp. Oliver doesn't let go though, and Barry grimaces.

"Oliver," Felicity hisses.

Oliver's gaze flickers over in her direction. "You guys used to go out?" he says, and a muscle in his jaw jumps.

"Yeah," Barry manages, his voice high and pained. "But it was a long time ago."

Oliver's faces goes hard. "How long?"

"Like last summer," Barry says a little desperately. He glances over at her, his eyes pleading, and Felicity's had just about enough of this.

"Oliver!" she says again, loud enough this time that Oliver — along with a couple of other people — turn to look at her. Oliver stares back at her for a couple of beats, his gaze locking with hers, his eyes dark and dangerous. "Leave him alone."

Oliver blinks, and this his whole face changes, his expression softening just enough so that when he smiles, it doesn't look as much like a threat. "Sorry, man," he says, finally letting go of Barry's hand. He's smiling, but his eyes are hard, and that muscle in his jaw is still ticking away. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah," Barry says, finally pulling his hand out of Oliver's grasp with an audible sigh of relief. He takes a couple of steps back, shaking his hand like he's trying to get some feeling back into it. "You too."

There's a stretch of silence after that, the Taylor Swift song that's been blaring from the DJ booth fading out, and Felicity tries really hard not to react to the way that Oliver's staring at her right now. Because as far as she knows, they're still trying to do the whole not telling anyone thing.

"Can I talk to you outside?" Oliver says, apparently not concerned with the whole secret-keeping thing judging from the way he is absolutely acting like a jealous boyfriend in front of pretty much the entire school, and then he brushes past her, striding through the gym before she even has a chance to answer.

Everyone is staring at her now, Barry and Iris and Eddie and like a whole other little crowd of people, and she has no idea what she's supposed to say to any of them. So she just turns on her heel and walks away, trailing Oliver through the crowd of people and out of the gym. By the time she makes it outside, the hallway is empty, Oliver nowhere in sight as the heavy double doors to the gym swing shut. It takes her a few minutes, but she finally finds him down one of the hallways, the one that leads to the science wing, pacing back and forth in front of a wall of lockers, looking pissed.

"You didn't tell me you and Barry used to go out," Oliver says accusingly, and Felicity feels a brief surge of contrition. Which is completely insane. She seriously can't believe he's mad at her right now. If anyone should be mad, it should be her at him for almost breaking Barry's hand.

"I didn't think it would matter," Felicity tells him, which is the truth. Because, really, why on earth would Oliver care that she went out with Barry like a million years ago? Not that Barry isn't great, because he is—he's sweet and he's funny and he's cute and, if she's being honest, Felicity's still not sure why they didn't work other than the whole lack of butterflies thing—but Oliver is…he's Oliver.

"I can't believe you lied to me." He's still pacing, but he manages to throw a glare in her direction, like he's completely in the right and she's in the wrong, and her confusion turns into anger.

"I didn't lie," Felicity protests, her voice rising. She should probably keep it down, but it's not like there's anyone else out here and the music from the dance is pretty loud and, besides, it's not like Oliver seems to care much about discretion these days.

"Right," Oliver scoffs.

"So, what?" Felicity demands. "You're allowed to dance with your ex-girlfriend in front of the entire school, but I can't dance with Barry?"

"I had to dance with her!" Oliver stops pacing, standing across from her, his body tense and his fists clenched at his side. "You were dancing with Barry because you wanted to."

Felicity rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, feeling a little thrill of satisfaction when Oliver glances down at her chest. "Why do you even care?" she says.

"Because, I love you, Felicity," he snaps, and Felicity's not sure who is more surprised by that, him or her. Because Oliver's mouth snaps shut and his eyes go wide and kind of panicky, and Felicity feels like all of the oxygen has been sucked right out of the room.

He doesn't take it back though, and her heart has started doing this strange flipping thing in her chest, and it's like her brain can't quite process what he just said because he's Oliver Queen, and he's gone out with dozens of girls and they've barely known each other a month. And okay, yeah, she's pretty sure she loves him too, but this is all happening very fast and they were just fighting and now Oliver's looking at her in this really intense way, and she probably needs to say something right now.

Instead, she kisses him, pulling him towards her by his tie, trying to tell herself it's going to be okay that Oliver just told her he loved her and she couldn't seem to get the words out. Oliver kisses her back, a slight hitch of hesitation in his movements the only sign that he might be hurt. But then he's running his tongue along her lower lip pressing her against the wall of lockers behind them, the handle on one of the lockers digging into her back painfully.

Her whole body is humming, like there's electricity running under her skin, and she can't believe Oliver just said he loves her, her heart skipping wildly as she kisses him, the words playing over and over again in her head.