Tangled Thoughts Read Free Page B

truth was I didn’t think it, I
knew
I did. The way my heart beat faster and my palms got hot when I saw him at discussion today was a clear giveaway.
    â€œHot! So
spill
. What’s he like?”
    â€œHot,” I admitted, and she giggled.
    â€œObviously.”
    I thought for a second. What
was
he like? “Different,” I finally said.
    After a pause, during which I knew she was thinking about exactly the difference I’d left unspoken, she replied, “Different is good, Lane. Different is good…and so’s hot. I mean, I
wish
I had a crushable TA. I’d even settle for a crushable lab partner, but noooo, I’ve got the vampire girl who never seems to sleep or see the sun. How about some details here? I’ve got some vicarious crushing to do.”
    After my rundown and her noises of approval, I added, “Hey, you want to come slum it on my side of the river tonight?”
    I heard her close her laptop with a snap, which told me the answer was already yes, like she’d just been waiting for me to ask. “Do I get to meet, Mr. H-O-T, aka Hot Older TA?”
    â€œNo,” I laughed, “but that band you told me about, with the bass player and no shirt, they’ve got an eighteen plus show and I’ve got passes.” I pulled the passes out of my pocket and slid them back and forth against each other. A kid doing promotions had handed them to me on the way through campus and I’d taken them automatically. When I’d set them on the table in discussion and read the name, I realized not only had I heard of them, they were supposed to be
good
. Amy had too much free time too, so her new hobby was discovering indie bands.
    Her fingers made a metallic tapping on the computer’s cover. “Interesting. You know we wouldn’t be stuck with only eighteen plus shows if you’d just…”
    I interrupted her with a well-practiced sigh. “Ame, I’m not going to do that.” I preferred the stress of her trying to convince me to get a fake ID to the stress it would cause me actually trying to use one.
    â€œLane, seriously, use some of your stacks of cash for fun. You could buy the best fake ever.”
    â€œNot only would I not know where to get one, I buy fun things all the time.”
    She laughed. “Your eighteenth century armoire is not fun.”
    â€œYeah, but new shoes are…” I dangled it there, knowing what would tempt her. It was still plenty early to go shopping before the show.
    â€œOkay.” Her voice was serious, but I could tell she was grinning like she’d just won an argument. “Provided you wear new shoes that are
super
sexy
and
I get to crash at your apartment, I’ll meet you at Copley in an hour. Bye.”
    She hung up before I even had time to agree.
    M Y NEW SHOES were definitely sexy. Except it was October and my toes were freezing, turning bluer and making me less sexy every minute we stood in line.
    â€œStop fidgeting,” Amy scolded.
    â€œSays the girl in new boots.
Warm
, toe covering boots.” Not to mention the shot—or was it shots?—she’d done with my roommates before we left.
    She stuck her tongue out at me. “We’re almost in.”
    One of the two guys in front of us stage-whispered, “That’s what she said,” and his friend snickered. They glanced back at us again, and the one who’d been stealing looks at Amy’s cleavage since we’dstepped up behind them actually smiled. He wasn’t bad looking, except his eyes couldn’t find their way north of chin-level.
    Amy smiled back and leaned forward enough to distract him again before deliberately buttoning her coat. “Those,” she told him, “are reserved.”
    â€œOh yeah?” He thought she was flirting with him, so he stepped away from his friend and closer to us. “How do I get on the list?”
    Amy’s grin grew wicked. “Be. Someone.