“Well, that’s the way it goes,” Armpit said. He winked at Ginny.
“You want to hold Coo?” she offered.
He shook his head. X-Ray had said people were still calling about the tickets, so maybe it wasn’t too late. If nothing else, they could go to the Lonestar and try to sell them at the door.
But now another thought came to him. “So, Ginny,” he said. “You want to go to the concert with me?”
Her eyes widened. She looked to her mother, who shrugged, then nodded her approval.
14
“Just don’t come home with your nose pierced,” Ginny’s mother told her.
Ginny promised she wouldn’t.
Armpit’s parents seemed more worried about Ginny’s safety than her own mother, but Armpit had a lot to do with that since his natural response was to argue with anything they said.
“Now, you keep a sharp eye on Ginny at all times.”
“She can take care of herself.”
“There are a lot of crazy people at a rock concert.”
“Just because people have tattoos or pierced tongues doesn’t mean they’re crazy!”
“If you’re not going to be responsible . . .”
“Ginny’s mother trusts me. Why can’t my own parents?”
“Because we know you.”
He didn’t know why he argued with them like that. He was just as concerned as they were, if not more so. He knew a rock concert could be a wild scene and had every intention of protecting Ginny and holding her hand until they were safely in their seats.
He called X-Ray to make sure he hadn’t already sold the tickets.
“I got a guy on the line right now!” X-Ray said. “He said he’d pay a hundred and fifty a ticket. I told you the price would only go up. Didn’t I tell you?”
“You can’t sell them. I’m taking Ginny.”
“Ginny? Are you outta your gourd? Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Look, she had a really bad day. Just bring the tickets over here. I want to get an early start so we can beat the crowds.”
“We’re talking three hundred dollars!”
“I promised Ginny.”
X-Ray said he’d be over in twenty minutes, but he did not sound happy about it.
Armpit sighed as he set the phone back in its cradle. Maybe he was crazy. He didn’t even know if Ginny would be able to handle the loud music and the crowds.
The phone rang a moment later. It was X-Ray again.
“I told the guy they were no longer for sale, and he offered two hundred a ticket.”
“No,” said Armpit.
“Four hundred dollars!”