Amazingly enough, time passed. E-mails came and went, but although
every time I opened my mail box and my eyes desperately searched for one
specific return address, I never found it.
The next day was Friday, and all day at school I couldn't sit still.
I was bouncing all over the place during history. Before I realized it, I
was tapping my foot and playing with my pen.
"Jesus, Becky," my friend Anne said. "What the hell is wrong with
you?"
"How much longer until class is over?" I asked quickly.
"About twenty minutes," she said slowly, looking me over. I don't
know, maybe she was trying to figure out if I had some sort of infectious
disease that was eating away at my brain cells. I'm not sure.
"Sorry, girl," I apologized, laughing. "I'm just a little excited.
Those BSB tix go on sale today at five, and as soon as school is over I wanna
run over there and get in line."
Anne grinned and started adjusting her always-perfect hair. I turned
back around and resumed my foot-tapping. I glanced around at the other
people in my class. Anne was doodling words to some song in the back of her
book. The girl on my other side (I didn't know her name) was writing BSB in
bubble letters on a sheet of looseleaf paper. I smiled to myself. A kindred
spirit, I thought. I turned around. There was Eliza, chewing gum, flirting
with Michael and looking ditzy as usual. Damn, girl, that skirt is way too
short.
I spent about nineteen and a half minutes like that. I don't think I
heard a single word that came out of my teacher's mouth. I get that way
whenever I have a lot on my mind.
Lunch rolled around. Gillie, Eilene, and I got in the frustratingly
long line to get our pizza.
Eilene was characteristically hyper. "I can't believe Dr. Smith gave
me an 80 on bio! I thought I failed!" she squealed, bouncing up and down. I
love the girl. She's just so darn cute all the time.
"I have her class next," said Gillian. "I just know I did terrible."
"Yeah, I just had bio," I chimed in. I practically had to shout to
be heard over all the people waiting in line.
Eilene gave me a curious glance. "What did you get on the test?"
I looked down and pretended to examine my toe ring. "98," I mumbled
sheepishly.
Gillie and Eilene stared at me. "Oh my God," they said
simultaneously.
Almost apologetically, I said, "It's only because I have Mrs. DeWeese
instead of Dr. Smith. If you were in my class you would have done just as
well." I gave them a smile that begged for their forgiveness.
"No, Becks," said Gillian. "It's okay." Gillie always tried to make
me feel better when people attacked my grades. It was nice to know that
someone cared and understood.
I grew embarrassed. Trying to change the subject, I asked, "Hey, did
you know the BSB tickets go on sale today at five?"
Eilene burst out, "Mad cool! You're gonna get some, right?"
"Well of course!" I laughed. "Do you guys want to go?"
Eilene practically shrieked. "Hell yeah!"
"Um...okay," Gillie said a bit more hesitantly. "How much are the
tickets?"
I felt the growing need inside me to do something nice for my
friends. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's my treat," I said.
Eilene's jaw dropped. "Beckles!" she cried, using her affectionate
nickname for me. "I can't let you do that!"
I planted my hands firmly on my hips. "Oh, yes you can!" I said
emphatically. Then, punching Gillie in the arm, I asked, "Why don't you guys
come down to Ticketmaster with me? I was gonna head down right after school.
Your company can be my payment."
At that moment Anne walked up to our little group, carrying two
slices of pizza and a Coke. "Where are you going?" she inquired.
After I told her our plan, she exclaimed, "Oh my gosh! I'm dying to
go to that concert. Do you mind if I go with you to get some tickets?"
Another idea sprang into my head. Wow, I remarked to myself dryly.
That's two in less than ten minutes. I'm on a roll. To Anne, I
enthusiastically replied, "Why don't you just come with us to the concert?"
To Gillie and Eilene, I asked, "Is that all right with you guys?"
"Of course!"
"Sure!"
Anne nearly dropped her pizza in the spontaneous act of giving me a
giant bear hug. I laughed and gently told her that I was next in line for
food, and it would be greatly beneficial if she would please get off my toe.
"...Now, here in line 278, Caesar begins to suspect the conspiracy.
But even though he's been warned, he still ignores his judgment. And you
what happens in the next scene-'Et tu, Brute.' He dies."
I sat (barely) in my last class of the day: English, with Mr.
Rothstein. After nine cups of coffee and no lunch, he was on a roll. He
paced back and forth ten feet in front of me, his 28 year old mind working at
a furious pace while his students itched for the bell to ring.
After listening to him babble on about Shakespeare's Julius Caesar
for about three more minutes, I blurted out, "Can we leave early today?"
Rothstein paused from his pacing and glared at me, albeit in a
friendly way. He may not have liked for me to interrupt him, but I was his
favorite student and he wasn't mad.
"Well, well, well, Miss Hammer," he joked. "Why are we in such a
hurry today?"
I felt a grin settle across my face. "Oh, dear Mr. Rothstein," I
dripped with sarcasm, "I would never be in a hurry to leave your class." I
heard laughs scattered throughout the room. "But as you know, people to see,
things to do..."
Rothstein matched my grin with one of his own. "Okay everyone, in
the interest of Miss Hammer's social calendar, you're dismissed."
I escaped from the crowd of people leaving the English room and met
Gillian, Eilene, and Anne at my car.
"Okay, guys," I started. "Here's the plan. I know you all love my
car," I laughed, "but there is no way I can fit four people into a
two-seater. We have to take two cars. Anne, you come with me. Gillie, you
can go with Eilene. And guys, we're meeting Ryan there. She's coming to the
concert with us," I added, referring to my other best friend who went to a
different school.
I led the way in Georgette (My car-an ice blue BMW Z3 convertible)
with Anne in the passenger seat. I turned on the radio and-lo and behold-the
new BSB song was on. Anne turned the volume up all the way and we sang it at
the top of our lungs. We pulled into a parking space at the Ticketmaster
outlet in downtown Tampa right next to Eilene and Gillian. We all hopped out
of our cars and saw that we were the first ones there.
We sat down on the concrete sidewalk outside the ticket window. I
glanced at my watch-only an hour and a few minutes to wait. I started
tapping my foot again and listened to Gillie, Eilene, and Anne make
conversation.
After about a half hour of waiting, Ryan pulled into the parking lot
in her candy apple red Porsche. She hopped out of the car and I got up to
greet her.
"Primo parking space in line, babe," she said, impressed, when she
noted that there was no one ahead of us. A large crowd had begun to gather
and the line that we were at the head of was easily a hundred people long.
"As if I could have anything less than number one," I joked. Ryan
made a face and punched me in the arm. I glanced at my watch. "Only
twenty-five minutes left to wait."
The five of us got into a very interesting conversation, and the time
flew. Before I knew it, the window in front of us opened and I breathlessly
asked for:
"Five tickets, please!"
The lady at the counter hurriedly punched in a few numbers on her
computer and said, "The best available seats are second row center. Is that
all right with you?"
Eilene and Ryan squealed. "All right?!" I shouted. "That's perfect!"
After the tickets were bought and paid for, the five us ran back to
the parking lot and jumped on top of each other in a massive group hug. We
were all yelling and running all over the place. Second row center! I knew
it was worth it to wait in line early.
I got back in my car alone and drove home, smiling the whole way.
December thirtieth was going to be one hell of a night.
As soon as I got home, I ran to my computer so I could e-mail my
other friends and tell them about my tickets. As soon as my computer logged
me on to America Online, I immediately heard a familiar voice tell me "You've
got mail." I was walking around my room getting some things together to go
out that night (since it was a Friday) and distractedly clicked on my mail
box. My stomach turned over as I saw, waiting for me, a message from the
address I had both longed and feared to see.
Go...
