Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Conner clicked off the phone. He threw it against his pillow and looked up at the ceiling. Had he lost all self-control? Had he lost his mind? Was he really turning into a . . . a boyf--?
He'd rather not say it.
"I'm sick of sitting around like an old widow," Tia announced, slamming her coffee mug on the table. "I feel like I've been wearing a veil around ever since he left for Stanford."
Andy looked into Tia's fiery brown eyes. She was so inspiring when she got like this--all huffy and determined. When she had phoned in an emergency "venting session" at House of Java earlier that morning, Andy knew exactly what the topic of conversation would be. Angel. Or, should he say, the lack thereof.
"I've written that boy so many e-mails, his in box is probably jammed," Tia said.
"You should--"
"I've sent him care packages, prayers, kisses, and a hundred telepathic messages," Tia added. "But as far as I know, he doesn't get any of them. And regardless, it's just not the same as having him around."
I don't know if I want to get into this. Andy looked around, soaking in House of Java's early Saturday ambience. Only a couple of other tables were occupied. He recognized the bearded guy in the dark corner booth as HOJ's resident intellectual--unshaven, with frazzled, curly hair that stuck out like an Afro and skin tinted the unhealthy hue of milky coffee. A couple of tables away from him was a generation-X couple--tattooed but respectable looking--sipping at steamy drinks and chatting energetically. A shock of morning sunlight blanketed the couple so thoroughly that they both wore sunglasses to cope with it.
"You're not even listening, Andy!" Tia half shouted.
"Yes, I am," Andy joked. "You were saying something about Angel."
"Good guess, you dork," Tia said.
"Something about how you need his body and soul right here with you," Andy added, prodding her.
"Exactly. If I can't have him here, I at least need to hear from him. We promised that we'd keep in touch somehow--every day."
Andy's eyes glazed. Tia and her rant were slipping off into another direction.
"Hey!" Andy said suddenly. "Snap out of it! I can't handle watching my pillar of strength for the last four years go and lose her mind right when I need her most."
Tia took a sip of her coffee and fixed her eyes intensely on Andy, as if he had spoken The Truth. "You're right," she said, nodding.
She's losing it, Andy thought.
"From now on," Tia resolved out loud, "I'm going to keep Angel in a totally separate bracket from the rest of my life."
"You go, girlfriend!" Andy said. He felt obliged to egg her on whenever she got this way.
"I'll keep working hard in school," Tia said. Andy nodded in agreement. "But I'm not gonna get so caught up in work and Angel . . . that I don't live a little. I've got to play hard too."
Andy squinted at her. What was that supposed to mean?
"No, no," she said, backing away. "I mean, nothing drastic. I just want to have a little fun before my high-school days have passed me by."
Andy rested his hand on his chin. He remembered his panic attack about not getting into college, about his career as a sanitary engineer. "Not me," he said. "As of this weekend, my playing days are over."
"What are you talking about?" Tia asked.
"I'm saying it's time to deal," Andy answered. "In school and after school, weekends and weekdays, twenty-four/seven, nonstop work mode."
Tia cracked a smile. "No offense, Andy . . . but isn't it a little late for this not-so-new-year's resolution?"
"It's never too late," Andy quipped. He pointed at his coffee mug confidently. "I'm only drinking this mochaccino right here to get ready for a full day of studying."
"Is that right?" Tia prodded.
"Damn skippy," Andy said.
"What does that even mean?" Tia asked with a laugh.
"I don't know. It just came out," Andy said. "Think I could get a scholarship for coining catchy phrases?"
"Not even."
"Well, I'm not even going to that Big Mesa bash tonight," Andy said. "I'll have a little party with my books instead."
Tia exploded with laughter, almost spitting out a mouthful of coffee.
"What's so funny about that?" Andy asked. "You don't think I can study on a Saturday night?"
Tia wiped the coffee off her chin and took a deep breath. "Um . . . no," she said, still trying to hold back the laughter.
"You just watch," Andy scoffed at her, a little angry at her insensitivity. He didn't need any outside doubt to add to his own huge pile of self-doubt. If he had to sit through Tia's woe-is-me, my-Angel's-gone pity fest, she should at least support him in his pursuit of academic competence.
"I'm serious about this, Tia," Andy started up again, uncrossing his legs nervously. "I'm a new hombre. I'm even joining SADD next week. I already talked to the president. And I might do track in the spring."
"Do they need a manager?" Tia joked.
"That's not cool," Andy shot back. What was her problem?
Tia scooted back her chair. "I'm sorry, Andy," she said, reaching over the table to give him a hug. "I have the utmost faith in you. If you really put your mind to it, you could be a starting linebacker on the football team."
"No, I couldn't," Andy quipped.
"All right, you probably couldn't," Tia conceded, sitting back down. "But you can do all those other things you mentioned. Study on a Saturday night, bring up your grades, start extracurricular activities, all that stuff. But you can't just talk about it--you've got to actually do it."
"You're right," Andy agreed. He looked over at Coffeehouse Philosopher Guy, hunched over a well-worn book in the corner, reading intensely. Why couldn't he do that? He looked back at Tia with magnified intensity. If he didn't get out of this coffee pit right now and go hit the books, he might never deal with anything. And people like Tia--his best friends--would always make cute, unfunny jokes about it.
"What is that look for?" Tia asked.
Andy popped up from his seat. "I'm sorry, Tia, but it's time for the new Andy to step up to the plate." He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. "I have to get to work . . . right now."
