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“No!” Omar said with a humorless laugh. “That’s okay. She’s old enough to drive.”

“She’s sixteen?” Anthony said, hoping he didn’t sound as panicked as he felt. It was hard enough to compete with someone who had a vagina. A driver’s license was an entirely unfair advantage.

“Yup! An older woman. Pretty hot, huh?”

“Sizzling,” Anthony grumbled. Remembering what Ricky had told him, he added, “I love Westport. I wouldn’t mind tagging along.”

“Yeah?” Omar sounded open to the idea. “That’s cool. I’m sure she won’t mind. She’s gonna call me tonight so we can figure out our plans. I have to be home at nine or I’ll miss it.”

“But then you’re coming back?”

“Or you can come stay with me,” Omar said. “I had this idea for a new sketch where you’d be a newscaster, except when you move your mouth, other voices come out. We could use mine, my sister’s… I bet even my grandma would play along. Could you imagine, with her accent and everything? It’s going to be great!”

It sounded ridiculous and—as far as Anthony’s heart was concerned—absolutely perfect. An hour later, he was sitting on the floor of his best friend’s bedroom while playing Altered Beast on the Sega Genesis. The volume was turned down so Omar could speak to Silvia on the phone. And so Anthony could tune in. He heard himself being discussed, which was gratifying. Omar would chuckle and say something like, “Yeah, that’s him all right! I agree. Yeah. He’s super cool.”

Eventually this became, “Sounds good. Call me back. No, it’s my own line. Call as late as you want.”

Anthony kept hammering the control pad buttons, Omar joining him in co-op mode.

“Is she letting me tag along?” Anthony asked.

“I think so. She needs to ask her parents about borrowing their truck and some other stuff.”

Anthony put the entire affair out of mind as they continued playing. They had just reached the final boss fight when the phone rang again.

“Sorry,” Omar said, tossing his controller aside.

The game wasn’t difficult. They’d beat it plenty of times before. Anthony would be fine on his own. The call went quick, Omar making a bunch of excited noises. “Perfect! Yes. It’s the best idea. Hell yeah! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sounds like it’s on?” Anthony asked.

“Yup,” Omar said, rushing back to pick up his controller. He waited until they’d defeated the boss before he said more. “I’ve got even better news. There’s been a change of plan. You’re going on a date with me.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Silvia can’t make it?”

“Ha ha! Nah, man. We’re going on a datetogether.Mindy is coming with us!”

CHAPTER 14

September 26th, 1992

Mindy Beaumont finished applying lipstick in the electric glow of her folding makeup mirror before she leaned back to consider herself. Then she sighed. Her red hair was curled at the ends, lifting it off her shoulders and giving it volume. She’d applied enough powder and base that her freckles had mostly faded into her pale skin. Her sullen expression made her rose-colored lips appear pouty. When alone like this, she could sometimes convince herself that she was cute. Or maybe even pretty. Then she would smile, see the braces, and feel depressed again.

She stood and smoothed out the wrinkles on the pink summer dress she wore. The front was open in a V that stopped just before reaching her bra, and the sleeves went halfway down her arms. The hem of the dress was sewn to create a tasteful frill, with a decorative bow on her right hip made of the same material. Mindy loved the dress, which is why she’d been saving it for such a monumental occasion.

Her first date! She had imagined it happening last year instead. And okay, technically she had worn this dress to homecoming then, not that anyone noticed her standing against the wall while waiting for a miracle that never came. She’d promised herself the next time she wore it would be because she’d found love. Or at least someone who actually liked her back. Did today really count?

She wasn’t sure. Mindy had been on quite a few dates in her daydreams. She always imagined a shy and sensitive guy working up the courage to ask her out. She would agree with tearful enthusiasm, and he would become braver when professing his love. Then her dream guy would whisk her away to somewhere romantic and classy, like the Plaza, where they would dine, dance, and eventually give in to desire. She had a hard time envisioning those things happening on Westport Road, but then again, love could make anything magical. With that in mind, she carefully applied perfume to the inside of herwrists before pressing them to each side of her neck, where she could feel her nervous pulse. Then she checked the alarm clock on her bedside table, noticing three different novels there with bookmarks sticking out of them. She had planned to read them while at the public pool. Mindy tended to burn, so aside from the occasional dip, she mostly just curled up on a deck chair beneath the shade of an umbrella while hoping a certain lifeguard would notice her. But he hadn’t all summer and probably never would. So when Silvia called last night with a sure thing, it had seemed like the right choice. Although it would have been nice if Anthony had called instead. Did he actually want to go on this date with her? He hadn’t dropped any hints when they were studying together. She resisted the urge to bite her carefully manicured nails, her jitters making her want to escape into the safety of the fictional worlds she adored.

Instead she turned off the makeup mirror and left the solitude of her bedroom. Mindy wandered through the house, unsure of who she would find there. Nerves had kept her up late enough last night that she’d slept through breakfast. Mindy followed the sound of music to the living room, where her sister was flipping through a magazine while music videos played on the TV. Jessica looked up and noticed how she was dressed, her eyes moving over the outfit.

“What do you think?” Mindy asked, squirming with insecurity.

“Very pretty,” Jessica said, grabbing the remote to mute the TV. “Did you decide to dress up for fun?”

“No!” Mindy replied, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I have a date.”

“Really?” Jessica stood and walked closer. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms with an old T-shirt and still managed to look stunning. Her auburn hair was long and straight, her breasts perky and full, despite the absence of a bra. She wasn’t just cute or pretty. Jessica wassexy. A woman instead of a girl. She’d looked that way since starting high school. Nobody was ever surprised to learn that she was a cheerleader. “Are those my pearl earrings?”