“Montana!” Carrie practically yelled it. “It has to be Montana! That’s the only one left!”
“You forgot Mississippi.” Aimee stared longingly as she watched Wendy shovel down her fries.
“Is it Mississippi?” Carrie asked.
“No… it’s the other one.” Wendy licked her salty fingers, pointing toward the ceiling. “You know, the one up north.”
I thought my heart was going to stop beating.
“Maine?” I managed to choke out, looking across the table and meeting Aimee’s widening eyes. Tyler Vincent lived in Maine—when he wasn’t touring or doing a new movie anyway. Aimee’s eyebrow raise couldn’t have said it any louder than she could have screamed it across the cafeteria—coincidence? I think not!
But that’s all it was. Just a stupid coincidence. I was too cynical to believe in anything as ridiculous as fate. If life had taught me anything so far, it was that I was responsible for making my own fate.
Wendy nodded. “Yep, that one.”
“After all that, you got it!” Carrie made a face, frowning as she watched me eat another one of her fries. “Sara, will you stop eating all of my food?”
“Sorry.” I reluctantly put back one of the fries I’d snatched. “I’m starving, but the lines are too long.”
“You’ve said that every day for a week.” Carrie snapped. “It’s no wonder you’re a twig. You don’t eat anything—except my fries.”
“Sor-ry.” I pushed my chair back. “You’ve been letting me do it every day and never said a word. I didn’t know it bugged you so much. Maybe I should just find another table to sit at.”
I stood up, grabbing my notebook and my purse.
“Take a chill pill, homegirl!” Carrie gripped my arm, tugging. “Sit down. I’m sorry I said anything. Here, have a fry.”
I sat back down, glancing at Aimee. She had a knowing look on her face. Aimee had been my best friend since grade school. She knew the truth—I had no money for the fast food line, and although I was eligible for free lunch, thanks to all those federal subsidies, I was too embarrassed to actually pay with the little red token they doled out to the poor kids every day to pay for it while everyone stood there and stared.
Besides, their lunch tasted like dog food.
“Well maybe Dale Diamond will be a good distraction this year.” Aimee propped her chin on her hand and stared out the window as if she was willing this new magic man to appear. “If we can’t have Tyler Vincent, we can at least have fun with his look-alike.”
“You’ve got to get over this Tyler Vincent obsession, Aimee.” Carrie tossed her empty, crumpled-up Hostess wrapper toward the garbage can. “It’s so high school, you know?”
“Two points,” I said when she sank it.
Carrie grinned at me and I grinned back. Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. Things were okay again. I put my head down on the table, a headache beginning to throb behind my eyes. New things always gave me headaches—the first week of every school year, the first couple days at a new job—like my brain went into overload from too much unfamiliar stimulation.
“I’m not the one obsessed with him,” Aimee protested indignantly. “You should see Sara’s walls. She invented the first Tyler Vincent wallpaper, pulled straight from the pages of Tiger Beat.”
I flushed, sending her a warning look and she stopped. There were things you just didn’t want everyone to know.
“So what tortures are we going to subject ourselves to for the last hour of the day?” Wendy changed the subject smoothly.
“I have government. I failed it my senior year, and now, of course, I’ve got Mr. Ruth,” Carrie said. We all made retching noises, as if on cue. His reputation had preceded him. During orientation, we sat with some repeaters, and they called him Mr. Ruthless. Carrie had complained about him at the lunch table every single day that week.
“I’ve got him next semester,” Aimee grumbled. More appropriate retching noises.
“So, what have you got again?” Aimee asked me.
“Chemistry.” I sat up, blinking my eyes at the brightness. “And a headache. Does anyone have an aspirin?”
“Are you kidding? It’s easier to get crack here than it is to get aspirin!” Carrie exclaimed.
Aimee laughed.
“It’s true!” Wendy tossed her wrapper at the garbage. She missed. ”Want me to hook you up?”