started to get up and head to the counter.
“Dodging the question, huh?” Heather prodded.
“I was trying to,” he said with an awkward laugh as he sat back down. “I don’t know where I’m going to end up in the fall. Actually I got into Oregon State, but I’m, um, wait-listed at Linden. But I’m sure I’ll get in. Totally. Just mailed in my application late, that’s all. They’re going to give me a hard time about it and make me wait. I’m a legacy—we all are. They always let in legacies.” He coughed. “Right?”
My cell started ringing. It was my dad’s ring tone—I have it set to the Linden school song. When everyone heard that, they started laughing and accusing me of being obsessed already.
“Where are you?” Dad asked.
“We’re having coffee,” I said.
“Coffee? You don’t drink coffee at night,” he said.
Somehow that made him worry that I wasn’t telling the truth. “What, do you think I’m making that up? Okay, so the deep dark truth is that I’m having a smoothie. At a coffee shop ,” I said. “And afterward we’re going to walk around and check out the area.”
“Check out what?” Dad asked.
I swear he’s not that old and hard of hearing. I just have a crummy phone. Again, my parents tend to opt for the bargains in life—with the exception of what they’d spent over the years on ballet, for me. The phone had been “refurbished,” but apparently its first owner was an octopus, or someone who spent a lot of time in the sea. It had a constant bubbling sound in the background.
Heather grabbed the phone from me and said, “We haven’t seen each other in forever, Mr. Matthias. We have a lot to talk about, okay?”
I could hear my dad laughing over the phone as they spoke for a minute, then Heatherhanded it back to me. “We’ll be back soon,” I promised.
“Parents still a little overprotective, huh?” asked Adam as I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
“A smidge,” I said. Over the past year, my parents had been gradually adjusting to the fact that my social life wasn’t entirely about ballet anymore. They were having a hard time with the fact they couldn’t always reach me at the studio, where I’d be hanging out with three other dancers. Even if there were guys around—like an occasional partner from time to time—usually they weren’t my type, or rather, I wasn’t theirs.
“Don’t worry, we can always sneak out later.” Heather picked up her coffee cup and slid her handbag over her shoulder.
“We can?” I asked.
“Sure. Didn’t you see how many doors that house had? There’s no way they can keep track of us every second.” She smiled, then put her arm around my shoulder and we sort of danced out of the coffee shop.
We headed back to the house, and Heather and I caught up some more while Adam and Spencer walked ahead of us, having an in-depth discussion about baseball. I think. I never watch baseball, so I had no idea what they were talking about, actually.
“Okay, so here’s the way I see it.” Heather smoothed her long blond hair back into a barrette. We’d always been complete opposites: She was blond, I was brunette; she was loud, and I was quiet; she was bold and I was, well, faint. Un-bold.
“We’re here for our last real vacation before we head to college, which will be very serious and boring and not fun,” Heather continued.
“It will? What about the parties?” I asked. “The football games, the frats—you know, all the things our dads—” I caught myself, feeling horribly insensitive. “The stuff the guys go on and on about, reliving their glory days.”
“Just work with me for a second. What I’m trying to say is that we have fourteen days here, so let’s find some amazing guys to have summer flings with. Are you in?”
“Uh…is that the plan?” I asked. She made it sound so easy.
“Pretty much. I’ll help you find a guy, and you’ll help me find one, which shouldn’t be that hard because it