Page 82 of Pride High 3: Yellow

“This won’t take long,” she said, turning to the letter jackets hanging on the rack. They’d manage to collect a variety of colors, which would look great on stage. The Jets would be a dancing rainbow competing against the uniform black the Sharks wore. She chose an orange jacket, knowing that it would clash with Troy’s hair, and handed it to him. “Put it on,” she said, refusing to watch as he did so.

“What do you think?” he asked.

When she glanced up, she noticed the sleeves were too short. “Perfect fit. Just wear a plain white T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers on opening night. Next!”

She was relieved when he wandered away, having avoided making direct eye contact with him, but someone else was watching her closely. Diego. For whatever reason, he was still sitting in the chair. And she didn’t want him to go away. Mindy was fitting the fifth and final dancer when she glanced up and saw Troy again. He was talking to one of the Song sisters.

“You know what?” the guy she was working with said. “I have the perfect leather jacket at home.”

“Oh really?” she asked, tearing her attention away from Troy. “Why don’t you bring it tomorrow and show me?”

“Okay!” the guy replied. “So am I done for today?”

“Yes,” she hissed unintentionally. She forced a reassuring smile until he had turned his back. Then she resumed grimacing.

“Is that him?” Diego asked as he slowly stood up.

“Who?”

“The jackass that pushed his luck.”

Was she that obvious? Mindy tried to put on a more neutral expression. “It’s fine,” she said. “Really,” she added when Diego started shooting daggers in Troy’s direction. “I’m not scared of him anymore.”

“Good,” Diego said.

“I just don’t get what he’s doing here,” she murmured.

Music began to play from the direction of the stage, and soon after, Whitney raced over to them. “Come dance with me, Marco!” she said, grabbing Diego’s hands and pulling. He didn’t budge.

“I’ll be right there,” he said. “I just need a wardrobe adjustment or something.”

“Hurry, because Tina ismadlyin love with you!” Whitney spun away, bumped into one of the racks, and kept going.

“Wanna see him cry?” Diego asked, nodding in Troy’s direction.

“No,” Mindy said. “Really. I don’t care about him that much. And if I did,I’dbe the one to make him cry.”

Diego grinned in approval. “Cool. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Oh wait!” Mindy grabbed the Polaroid camera she used to take reference photos, although it was usually reserved for more complicated costumes. “Like last time,” she explained.

“Yeah, all right.” Diego sat in the chair again, angling himself in one corner and draping his arm along the back. When he smiled, it made a dimple appear in his cheek. She stared through the viewfinder before remembering she was supposed to hit the button. When she did, a mechanical whirring began as the camera slowly spit out a photo. “How’d it turn out?” he asked, standing and moving behind her in an attempt to see over her shoulder.

“It hasn’t developed yet!” she said while fanning herself with it. Mindy turned around to face him, having to take a step back because he was so close. But thankfully he wasn’t the sort of guy to repeatedly invade her personal space. Not that she would have really minded, but he was already looking elsewhere. “Hey!” she said spontaneously. “Would you like to come to my birthday party?”

Diego’s head whipped toward her. “Your birthday party?” he repeated, as if it was a foreign concept to him.

“Yeah! Technically it’s on Monday, which is super lame, so I’m having it on Sunday instead. It’s a big one. I’m turning sixteen! Lots of people you know are going to be there. Keisha and Whitney. Oh, and Cameron too.”

Diego’s lip began to curl. “Is he bringing that boyfriend of his?”

“Anthony? Yes. He’s invited. You could bring Ricky.”

“He’s grounded,” Diego said. “And birthdays aren’t really my thing.”

“Oh. Well if you change your mind… Would you like my phone number?”

“Here.” Diego gestured for the photo she had taken. Once she handed it over, he grabbed an eyeliner pencil and wrote a series of numbers on the white strip at the bottom. “That goes to my pager,” he explained when giving the photo back. “If you ever need me, just call and leave your number.” He smirked. “I hope you have a nice birthday, princess.” A dimpled cheek was still on display as he strolled away. She stared after him a second, thinking how fortunate Ricky was to have him. This train of thought was broken when she saw Troy hurrying toward the stage. Luckily he kept going without paying attention to her.