Crazy in Love Read Free Page B

let’s face facts: Dan Meyer is probably the cutest guy in my entire high school, with his thick, dark hair and his incredible eyes. You don’t get him out of your system that easily once you’ve melted before his baby-blue eyes. Still, I thought that Dan didn’t even know I existed.
    Well, apparently he did. “Hey, Sallie!” he said in that careless way of his. I swear, he must practice in front of the mirror. “How’d your summer go?”
    “Fine. Terrific.” I slammed my locker shut, feeling guilty all of a sudden. It was as if I had a body hidden in there instead of my dull old textbooks. But that’s the thing about Dan and his gorgeous blue eyes. No matter how confident you’re feeling, no matter how much preparation you’ve had for your conversation with him, you, always end up looking like you’re posing for animal crackers in his presence. The cool, sophisticated side of Sallie Spooner didn’t stand a chance.
    “Great. I’m glad to hear it. Did you stay in the city?” I nodded like some kind of wooden dummy. I could feel myself turning red. Sometimes I think I’m the only woman alive in this day and age who still blushes. You’d think I’d taken lessons from Scarlett O’Hara.
    “Too bad. I was lucky. Spent a couple of months out at my brother’s place in Colorado.  Beautiful country out there.”
    “Terrific.” It’s funny. I’m someone who usually talks a million miles a minute, but Dan Meyer’s presence had this peculiar effect on me. If it could have been packaged, my parents would have bought it by the ton.
    “Hey, listen, Sal, I’m in kind of a hurry, but I wanted to ask you something.”
    Now, I’d like to interject here that there is probably nothing I hate more in this world than being called Sal. Call me buddy, call me girlie—anything but Sal. Whenever somebody calls me that, I feel as if I should instantly sprout hair in my armpits and change into an undershirt with giant holes in it. But because of what Dan said next, I quickly forgot my resentment,
    “I thought if you weren’t busy tomorrow afternoon, we could go skating in the park.”
    I gulped. Noticeably. I’d had absolutely no time to prepare for that one. He just threw it out at me from nowhere. I turned redder; I’m sure of it.
    “Sure. Sounds terrific.” Whenever I’m nervous, I use the word “terrific” constantly. Every second word I use is “terrific.” Then I remembered. “Oh, wait a second. I’m supposed to spend tomorrow afternoon with Rachel.”
    “Well, then, bring her along. And I’ll bring my friend Fred.”
    “Fred? Who’s Fred?”
    “You know, Fred Abrams? He’s one of my best friends. Surely you know Fred.”
    “Oh, yeah. Fred. Terrific.” Terrific, again. There must be some weird correlation between my pulse rate and my compulsion to use that stupid word.
    Anyway, within five minutes of that encounter, I’d left a message with Rachel’s mother that she was to call me the instant she got home from school. My first date of the school year, and with Dan Meyer, no less! And, of course, Rachel’s first date of the year, too. I wasn’t sure what she thought about Fred Abrams, and I didn’t know how she’d feel about having been set up with him without even knowing about it.
    I suppose I should mention at this point that Rachel is Jewish. The reason I’m bringing that up now is that she mainly goes out with Jewish guys, people she knows from school or from temple. Or every once in a while her parents come up with some guy they want her to go out with. The Glass family is not what I’d call religious, but they do have a very strong sense of their Jewish heritage. Her mother preserves as many of the traditions as she can, and she’s passed along an appreciation of both the heritage and the traditions to all her children. So Rachel tends to be selective about the boys she goes out with.
    Fred Abrams also happened to be Jewish, a fact that I pointed out to her later on that afternoon