My first thought was of Dale Diamond and the little heart I’d drawn around my phone number on the back of his hand. I’d been trying hard not to think about him at all, not even realizing how tense and expectant my body had been, waiting for him to call.
I grabbed the phone on the first ring, hoping my stepfather wouldn’t pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Sara! Where in the hell were you? I had to go home with Carrie and Wendy!”
Aimee. I’d forgotten all about her. I put down my brush and palette and sat on the bed.
“I had to stay after chem.”
“What for?” She crunched something in my ear.
“It’s a long story.” I looked longingly at the paint drying on the palette.
“So?”
I gave up, stretching out on my bed, and told her what had happened, from the moment Dale Diamond walked into my chemistry class to my invitation to give him a ride to and from the academy.
“He’s supposed to call you tonight?” Aimee was practically vibrating with excitement—I could feel it even through the phone line. “We better get off, you don’t have call waiting. Oh my God, it’s like a romance novel!”
I laughed. “It’s not that exciting. He’s a nice enough guy, I guess. But he’s not Tyler Vincent.”
I reminded myself of that fact, touching Tyler’s picture, one of my favorites taped to the wall next to my bed. This was the man I lived for, would die for. He filled my thoughts, my dreams. I had pinned all my hopes on him.
Aimee stopped crunching and groaned. “You are way too hung up on Tyler Vincent. You meet this incredible guy and all you can say is he’s not Tyler Vincent?”
“Hey, let me have my fantasies, would you? What are you eating?”
“Cheetos. But I’m going to throw them up later. Hey, speaking of Tyler Vincent, don’t tickets go on sale this Saturday?”
“Oh my God, I forgot to tell you the best part!” I squealed, forgetting all about Aimee’s Cheetos comment for a moment. “Dale says he can get us front row seats!”
“What? You’re kidding me! How?”
“He says he knows somebody.”
“Oh my God, I don’t have to stand in line overnight again? I can’t believe it!”
I laughed. “You lucked out this year.”
“Sounds like you’re the one lucking out.”
“Maybe a little.” I twisted the phone cord around my finger, looking at a picture of Tyler Vincent on my wall, but thinking about Dale Diamond. “Hey, are you really eating Cheetos?”
“Don’t judge me.” Aimee crunched again. “I’m having a bad day.”
I knew how she felt, between Woodall and washing desks to coming home to the stepbeast in a beastly mood. The only bright spot in my day had been Dale Diamond.
“I don’t care if you’re eating them, just don’t throw them up.”
“But the calories!” she wailed.
“You were fine at lunch. What happened?”
Aimee sighed. “Carrie’s older brother picked us up. That’s who I rode home with.”
“So?”