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reverie and turned the radio down.

“Adele,” she said urgently. Her tone was serious, but she radiated an air of interest.

“Stella,” I replied cheerily. The heat was nearly unbearable, but my friend’s mood was rubbing off on me.

“Why was that cute new guy in psych staring at you so much today? He looked at you like… like you were a piece of jewelry he was appraising.”

“You noticed that too?” I asked, relieved.

“The hell I did,” Stella sighed. “Every girl in that room had their eyes on him. You should have seen Ivy. I swear, she started drooling as soon as he walked in.”

That wasn’t a big surprise. Ivy Michaels, Chatham High’s cheer captain, had a bad reputation when it came to the opposite sex. In other words, “Poison” Ivy Michaels had the tendency to leave the guys she’d been with itching. And in need of a trip to the clinic.

“But she wasn‘t the only one with that look,” Stella said after a pause.

“There was someone else?” I asked, a little too eagerly. Why did I care? I barely knew the guy.

I watched the side of Stella‘s mouth turn up.

“You,” she said, cutting off the driver next to us. “I haven‘t seen you look at someone like that since… ever. I mean, aside from me.”
I laughed. “He‘s okay, if that‘s what you‘re into,” I replied, trying to sound uninterested. Stella didn’t buy it; I could sense her doubt.

“Right,” she said, “because a guy like that only has limited appeal.” She turned those electric blue eyes on me, waiting for an answer.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Stella,” was all I said.

“I‘ll pull this car over,” she said, smirking. “No need to beat around the bush.”

“It‘s my car.” I retorted.

At that, Stella went into full Nascar mode; she made such an incredible move, we were parked in a gas station in three seconds flat.

“Adele, you know you shouldn‘t hide your feelings… one of these days you‘re gonna blow,” Stella said, still smiling. But I could feel her seriousness.

Those words hit me harder than I expected. Hiding my feelings. That was the problem. Stella didn’t know it, but it was everyone else’s feelings that I hid. So I decided to make up for it by being completely honest. Starting now.

“Then ask me anything.”
“You like what‘s-his-face?” Stella was already back on the road.

“Nolan‘s his name. And I barely know him. But I think he likes me.”

“Oh, really? He‘s dropping hints that fast?”

“He slipped a phone number in my bag.”

Nascar mode again. Stella didn’t change her facial expression, but I felt the jade-colored aura of excitement roll off of her in waves. We sped down the streets, running yellow lights, and parked outside Stella’s apartment five minutes later.

“Oh. My. God. We gotta prank call him.” Stella said, a full grin on her lips.

“What? Why?” I asked, confused at her suggestion.

“Because you‘re supposed to know how a guy reacts under pressure before you pursue a relationship with him.”

Dammit. She had a point. So I threw all apprehension to the wind. How hard could it be, anyway?

“Okay. Let‘s do it. But we got to get out of this car and into some air conditioning,” I said.

“Done.”

We made the journey up the stairs and into the apartment Stella shared with her sister.

My first thought: perfectly immaculate. That was always my first thought when I visited Stella. The pictures on the tan walls were perfectly hung, there wasn’t a spot on the eggshell carpet, and the interior decoration was perfect. Claire, Stella’s older sister, was at work, but the effort she put into the little apartment was obvious. We made our way into Stella’s room, greeting Claire’s dog in the process.

“Hey, Cheesecake!” I said. The Yorkshire Terrier’s pink bow sat neatly on his head.

“I keep telling that girl to get him a blue bow, poor thing,” Stella said, a sad look on her face. “Well, there‘s no cooperating with her… might as well just get our job done.”

I took the folded piece of paper out of my bag and reached for my phone.

“Wait… you do know how to block a number, right?” I asked, holding my phone close to me.

“What, you plan on calling him for real later on tonight?” Stella asked.

“Does it matter?” I replied.

“Of course it does,” Stella said. “But yes, I can block a number.”

I gave her the paper and my phone, and threw myself upon her bed. Stella’s lime-green walls and hot pink bedding and rug perfectly accented her personality; loud, outspoken, and impulsive. She’d always told me it was her zodiac sign that had affected her personality.

“I‘m a fire sign,” she’d told me when I asked her where she got her qualities from; aside from her sister, no one else in Stella’s family was so - well, crazy. “Claire and I were both born in early April.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. We were freshman in high school; our friendship was brand-new.

We were now seniors, but the relationship Stella and I shared hadn’t lost any of it’s luster; my crazy best friend made sure of that.

I was snapped out of my reverie by Cheesecake; he’d pulled my flip-flop off and was now licking my toes. I tried not to giggle, but I couldn’t help it.

Stella poked my ribs with her index finger and mouthed, It’s ringing.



Obviously

, I mouthed back. The phone was on speaker.

A couple rings later, a man answered.

“Hello,” he said. After that one word, Stella went on a rampage.

“Nolan? Nolan?!? Do you remember me, Janice??? I know you do! That fling last summer was the worst decision of my life! You didn’t even call me back! How dare you, and now I’m pregnant! I need you to come down to Chatham General tomorrow afternoon and give a DNA sample, you know this is your kid! I’m not taking care of another one alone!!! Never mind how I got your number, you lousy piece of-”

“Ma’am! You must have the wrong number, this is Mario‘s Pizza,” the man got out in a slight Spanish accent.

Our jaws dropped. “Oops,” Stella squeaked. And she hung up. We looked at each other. “He gave me the wrong number,” I finally got out. A long silence passed. Then we burst out laughing. There was humor in our blunder, but I found myself a little disappointed; deep down, I wanted Nolan’s interest.

“That bastard,” Stella said, wiping her eyes. “Maybe he‘s better off with Ivy after all. He deserves an infection for that one.”

* * *



When Connor and I walked into psychology arm-in-arm the next day, the only person who had their eyes trained on me was the last person I wanted to see. Nolan was looking past the cheerleader that had parked herself on his desk to smile at me. When he got an eyeful of Connor, who was the starting wide receiver for Chatham’s varsity football team, his grin fell a little.

Well, that was weird. I pulled myself out of Connor’s muscular arm, said goodbye to Stella, and walked over to the back of the class. The cheerleader who’d plopped herself down on the desk turned to see who’d torn Nolan’s attention away from her.
“Adele, is it?” Ivy said, sneering at me.
I tried to withhold my irritation. Ivy knew damn well what my name was; I’d been the butt of her jokes our entire sophomore year.

“Yes, Adele. And you are… no, don‘t tell me. Vine? Grass? Weed?”

“Ivy,” she said, a hint of acid in her voice. “I‘ll get back to you later, Nolan.” We watched her walk away, switching her hips in that “wish you had this” kind of way.

I sat down in my seat as the bell rang, and turned completely away from my psych partner. He tapped my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Nolan said in that silky voice of his. His breath was cool on my neck.

“I‘m fine.”

“No you‘re not.”

“Okay,” I replied. “You got me. I‘m only a little irritated because you gave me the number to a pizza place.”

Nolan leaned back in his chair and stretched, allowing his black t-shirt to ride up. I willed myself not to glance at his sculpted abdomen. Finally, he spoke. “So, you called.”

“I needed to know what the homework was.”

“Of course you did.” Even though I couldn’t sense it, I knew he didn’t believe me. I decided not to speak again, unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Nolan asked, indicating Connor with his finger. So much for not speaking.

“No!” I said quickly. Then I thought about it; Connor was an attractive guy. Let’s just say all that football practice had done him good. He stood at 6‘1”, a far stretch from my 5’7” and Stella’s 5‘3”. His windswept chestnut hair and hazel eyes could leave any girl‘s knees weak. “I mean, no, he‘s not. Why? You want me to put in a good word?”

“Ha. No, thank you. I was just wondering if I had any competition.” My heart rate sped up.

I just stared at him. I could hear Mrs. Laskus going on about common mental disorders in the front of the class. I just took my notes, and didn’t speak again until class was almost over.

“What makes you think that I‘d be interested?” I asked, sure of myself.

“Because you thought you were calling me last night.” he replied, smiling. His violet eyes glittered in the well-lit room. I was at a loss.

“Screw you,” I said, for lack of anything else better to say.

“I‘ll tell you what. Meet me at six at the Gold Rush tonight, and we can set a date for that.”

Just as I was about to decline, I saw Ivy glaring at us out of the corner of my eye. Nolan had his back to her, but she was close enough to hear our conversation. So, I made my decision.

“I guess I can squeeze you into my busy schedule,” I said, genuinely smiling at him for the first time. “But we‘re not setting a date for anything.”

* * *



Connor and Stella gave me hell when I told them about my date.

“So… lemme get this straight. Sexy-mysterious new guy asked you out to the Gold Rush? While Ivy eavesdropped on you?” Stella asked.

“Pretty much,” I answered.

Connor leaned on a stove. “I don‘t know about that guy, Adele,” he said, staring at the ceiling. “One day, he gives you a fake phone number, and the next, he‘s taking you out to a club.”

We were chatting in our kitchenette in culinary class, waiting for our raspberry tart to finish baking.

“I‘d be willing to forgive him for that,” Stella interjected. “But you‘re gonna have to get him back.”

“How?” I was stumped.

“I don‘t know, get creative Adele,” she replied. I sighed. Vengeance just wasn’t my thing.

A shrill “ding!” marked the end

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