~*Alexandra's point of view*~
No one knew how much we wanted to go to that concert. NOBODY.
I swear...I thought...I'm definitely going to work for Ticketmaster when I grow up. But I probably won't like Hanson then...damn.
I looked over at Jenn. She was lazily flipping through a this month's Seventeen magazine. She rolled over onto her back and threw the magazine aside. She sighed and stared at the ceiling. My room had no Hanson posters. Neither did Jenn's. We were not members of MOE, and we refused to buy "teenybopper" magazines such as Bop, BB, Tigerbeat, 16, Teenbeat...you know that kind of stuff. We were not die-hard Hanson fans; like we said, we were in love with their music.
Coming out of her trance with the amazement of my ceiling, Jenn blinked. Then she opened her mouth as if to speak. Shutting it, she sighed again. Finally, she sat up and blurted out. "We have to find a way to go!"
"I doubt there is one," I said sadly. I really thought so. Unless...
"Radio stations! We can win the tickets!" Jenn shouted happily, running to turn on the radio.
I nodded and grabbed the cordless phone. We listened until something was mentioned about the Hanson concert. Both of us sat up in unison, anxious to hear the rest.
"That bubble gum pop group you fans call Hanson," the radio announcer babbled," [Jenn and I shared a look of disgust] will be in concert this weekend at the All-State Arena. For all you people without tickets, here's your last chance to win."
I perked up immediately and prepared to dial the phone number.
"Call 1-877-927-KISS...that's 1-877-927-KISS. If you're the lucky 100th caller you win two front row tickets!"
I quickly dialed the number, only to face a busy signal. I pressed redial, but had the same result. Finally, on my next try, I got through. "Yes!" I grinned to Jenn, "it's ringing!"
"Sorry," a voice said, "you are the 99th caller. Try again."
I slammed the phone down because I heard the announcer say that the 100th caller had been found. Jenn and I listened practically in tears to the over-excited caller, presumably a girl in her young teens, squeal with delight. Joyous shrieks filled the background--probably her friend that she was going to take to the concert.
"Guess who's going to die without seeing Hanson?" Jenn asked me.
"I don't know..." I began, "me?"
"And me." Jenn said. "And that old lady with the dog that was behind us in line."
I hate the number 99.
All The Way To Albertane
You Are My Hope
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