“And here I thought it was so I wouldn’t be fighting the crowds alone,” Amy said.
“Nah. Why would I ever do anything for you?”
She giggled, then let out a huge yawn. “What time does the store open again?”
“Five.”
She whimpered.
“I know,” I said, patting her on the back. “It’s cruel to have sales start so early right after everyone’s loaded themselves with sleepy turkey chemicals.”
To make matters worse, it was also cold. We were bundled up in our sweaters and coats, but they didn’t do much to deflect the occasional gust of wind that blew into our faces. The amazing part about this was that Amy’s hair still looked flawless. Four a.m., cold and windy morning, and she still looked like a model with a classy, curly updo.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed either.
“Oh my God. You have to tell me how you did that.”
Amy and I both turned when we heard the voice behind us. There was a girl there, drinking Starbucks. She couldn’t have been much older than us, and she looked a little familiar. Probably a Hamilton High grad. She was wearing some amazing black boots over multicolored leggings that I only wished I could pull off.
“Sorry?” Amy said.
“Your hair,” the girl said. “You have to tell me how you did that.”
It was only then that I noticed her own curls. Brown corkscrews, even tighter than mine or Amy’s. They were a little frizzy because of the wind, but they still looked ten times better than mine. Damn it.
“Oh,” Amy said, patting her hair self-consciously. “It’s really easy. You just need a hair tie and a few bobby pins.”
“And by ‘easy,’ she means impossible for us commoners,” I said.
“Right?” The girl laughed. “Bobby pins and hair ties just leave me with a rat’s nest on top of my head.”
“It’s really not that hard. You just —”
“Chloe!”
Two more people were coming our way: a girl with straight black hair and a cute boy I recognized as Cash Sterling, a former player on the Hamilton High soccer team. (Soccer was the only sport I kept up with. Mostly because it was an excuse to stare at boys with really nice legs.)
“Sorry we’re late,” Cash said to the curly-haired girl, Chloe.
“You’re not. The store hasn’t opened yet.”
“I know,” Cash said. “But according to Lissa, we were supposed to be here by four. So I was told to apologize for making her late.”
Lissa, meanwhile, was too busy digging in her purse to argue with Cash. “I have a map,” she said. “I drew it last night. I figured out the best route to get back to the TVs when the doors open.”
“Oh dear God,” Chloe moaned. “We have to do this?”
“If I have to do Black Friday,” Lissa said, “I’m doing it efficiently.” She sighed. “Why does my stupid brother want a TV for a wedding present? Why couldn’t he just ask for a blender like everyone else?”
“He’s gonna need a TV to drown Jenna out,” Cash said. “I still can’t believe they’re getting married.”
“I just can’t believe he’s getting married before I had a chance to hook up with him.”
“Ew, Chloe. I can’t deal with you lusting after my brother right now. I’m already freaking out over the crowd here. Ugh. It’s gonna be awful in there. Here. Let’s study the map.”
Amy and I glanced at each other, then turned around, clearly no longer a part of this conversation.
“We should’ve made a map,” Amy whispered.
“I don’t think we’re neurotic enough for that,” I whispered back.
The minutes lurched by as the line got longer and longer on the sidewalk behind us. There was no doubt about it — when those doors opened, we were in for a freaking stampede.
“Ready?” Amy asked when there was only a minute to go.
“Why do I feel like I’m about to go to war?” I asked.
But she didn’t have time to answer because right then the front doors of Tech Plus swung open.
And everyone charged forward.
I ran, tripping over my own feet in order to avoid being trampled. With my relatively short legs, this was not easy. But after a lot of pushing and shoving and cursing at complete strangers, I made it inside the doors. It was still a madhouse, but people spread out, running for the items they’d come to buy.
“Okay, where are the game consoles, Amy?”
But when I turned to look at her, Amy wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere near me.
“Shit,” I muttered, realizing too late that we’d been separated by the crowd. Finding her in this chaos, especially when I wasn’t all that familiar with the layout of Tech Plus, was going to be impossible.
Maybe packing a map wasn’t as neurotic as I’d thought.
I wove my way through the crowd, hoping to spot a tall, curly head somewhere. A few times, I popped up on my tiptoes so I could look over the heads of the people around me. Unfortunately, with my neck craned and my balance compromised, I ended up falling flat on my ass in front of an iPod display.
“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
I looked up at the person who’d just slammed into me and was met with two very surprised green eyes.
“Sonny,” Ryder said. “I didn’t recognize you.”
“I’m sure I look different from this angle,” I said. “Help a girl up?”
“Sorry.” He took my hand and pulled me to my feet. I wanted to relish that moment of having his hand in mine, but it was over so fast I barely got to enjoy it. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just surprised to find you here.”
Lie.
Confession Time: Ryder, not Amy or Wesley, was the reason I was at Tech Plus that morning.
It had been a couple of weeks since our little texting tryst (which still made me feel icky when I thought about it) and Ryder had been sending messages almost every day since. I’d ignored most of them, knowing that responding was counterproductive. That last conversation had, apparently, given him the confidence to approach Amy in person again. Luckily, I was with Amy pretty much any time she wasn’t in class, which meant I was able to shut down the conversation and hurry her away before she found out about the texting.
I knew I shouldn’t risk giving him more encouragement to pursue Amy, no matter how temping it was to reply to his messages. We were making some progress in person, but not as quickly as I’d hoped, and texting was the only way I really got to talk to him.
I’d been holding on to my last shred of willpower, fighting my self-destructive urges, but Thanksgiving break meant not even seeing him at school, and when he sent a text about needing a new iPod, I couldn’t help suggesting he go to Tech Plus on Black Friday. I knew Amy would be going, and it would make perfect sense for me to join her.
So here I was, in the middle of Black Friday madness, all so I could run into a guy who didn’t even know he liked me.
“I’m surprised to find me here, too,” he admitted. “But my iPod broke and Amy said this place would have them on sale, so … Hey, if you’re here, is she?”
“Um, yeah. Somewhere. I’ve lost her.”
And I sort of hoped she stayed lost. At least until Ryder and I had had a few minutes together.
Not that this was the most romantic setting, but I’d take what I could get.
“Oh. Do you think we should go look for her?”
“No, no. She had some shopping to do. I’m sure I’ll find her soon.” I cleared my throat. “So. A new iPod? What sort of music do you listen to?”
“If I told you, you’d probably call me a pretentious hipster.”
“Yeah … probably. But I already do that.”
He laughed. “At least you’re honest.”
Not something I heard often.
“So indie stuff no one else has heard of, then? Like Goats Vote for Melons, maybe?”