mentally pat myself on the back for opening Hayley’s door for her. “O-kay.”
“Are you guys coming?” Mom yells from the kitchen.
I bolt for the table before Dad can unleash anymore parental wisdom on me.
Reason 4: It’s easy with you
Is this Hayley?
Delete.
Uh, hey. This is Brody. Took you home earlier and I was…
Delete.
So, been thinking about your offer…
Ugh.
This is why I don’t use my phone. I sound so stupid via text. I suck in a breath and try again, pressin’ send before I can change my mind.
Hayley? Brody. Just wanted to make sure I had your number right.
It’s gone, and I can’t overanalyze my lack of text lingo.
The phone vibrates about fifteen seconds later.
Ding ding ding! You win! Would u like prize behind curtain #1, curtain #2, or curtain #3?
I chuckle and shake my head as I type my response.
2 is my lucky number.
Send.
Okay. Getting easier. Only one try that time.
You’ve won a 20 min phone convo. with yours truly. Call me when u get this msg to claim ur prize! :)
I hit the dial button before I even think about what I’m doing. She’s just easy to talk to. Even via text.
“Sup?” She says it like one of those gangsters.
“Hey.”
“How goes it?”
“Uh, all right.”
“Wow.” She laughs. “You are full of conversation. I don’t know if twenty minutes will be long enough.”
At least she can’t see my face go red. “I was just wonderin’ what you were doing tomorrow after school?”
“Hmm… Hang on a sec.”
A door slams, and the music in the background muffles.
“Sorry, I think I heard you wrong. Did you ask me what my plans were tomorrow?”
“Uh, yeah.” Was that wrong?
“Oh.”
Is that all she’s going to say?
“Uh, Hayley? You still there?”
“Yeah, sorry. Um, I’m just going to go to the library again, hopefully without the rain this time.”
I clear my throat. Why is this so hard? It’s not like I’m asking her out.
No, just asking her to hook you up with some other girl.
“Want company?”
“You want to hang out with me?”
“Yeah.”
She pauses again. What do I say? Do I say anything? Or just sit here like a moron?
“This isn’t a date is it?”
“Uh—”
“Because I don’t want your pity.”
“What?”
“I don’t want a pity date just ‘cause I haven’t been on one.”
I laugh. I don’t mean to but it just happens. “No. It’s not a date. I wanted to talk to you about, you know, what you said earlier.”
“Oh!” She laughs. “Yeah, that’s totally fine.”
“Then I’ll pick you up after school. That okay?”
“Awesomesauce.”
There’s that word again. I chuckle. “Awesomesauce.”
“Oh! I gotta go. You can claim the rest of your fifteen minutes some other time.”
“All right, see ya.”
Click.
Easier than I thought. Even with the semi-weirdness.
The student union is always packed during lunch. I don’t even know why we have a cafeteria since everyone eats out here anyway.
Sticking my earphones in and turning on my iPod, I get ready for the routine lunch hour: People watching.
Don’t know why, but this is what I do. Most of the group I hang out with has B lunch. But lucky me, I get stuck with A.
The music drowns out most of the bull talk, so I try to guess what people say by their body language. The runnin’ dialog in my head keeps me entertained.
Jasmine Walters saunters over to Josh, sticking her obviously stuffed chest in his line of sight. Let the commentary begin.
Hi Josh. Don’t you just love how big my tits are today?
Yeah, what is it? Two ply?
Why yes! Thank you for noticing. It took me all morning to make sure it was crinkled enough to see.
Good job. Maybe tomorrow you can make them even.
That’s a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?
Shaking my head as I chuckle to myself, I turn my attention to other victims of my internal bashing. I spend a few minutes dissecting the theater geeks. They all think they’re popular because they’re ‘Super outgoing!’ But really, they’re just loud. My music can’t even blast their obnoxiousness into oblivion.
Right in the middle of my heckles, Quynn sidles past Brittney, who’s doing a ridiculous pantomime. The definition of sexy herself holds a bunch of papers and looks a little like she just came in from a windstorm.
I’m an idiot ‘cause I leap to my feet and do a Mission Impossible sprint toward her.
“Hey!” Crap, my voice shakes. I’m supposed to be cool around her. “You need help?”
“Yes!” She grabs the top half of her huge stack of papers and plops it into my arms. “Thank you Brody. I just need