“Yeah. Thanks.”
She grins. “Go—I know you want to tell your brother.”
I nod, standing, taking care not to knock over all the chairs. I grab my bag and say, “Thank you again. I’m really excited about this opportunity.”
“You’re welcome, George. Your talent
is exactly what we’re looking for at Berkeley.”
I step out of the room, my feet moving as fast as possible without breaking into a flat-out run. I dart past my algebra class, past Charlie, who will be fine learning about this later. There’s only one person I want to share this news with.
I get outside Starlee’s Spanish class and check the time. Two minutes until the bell rings. I pace like a fool, a maniac, knowing Senor Valdez will not let her leave class just because I want her to. Thankfully, the bell rings and everyone shuffles out. Starlee walks out with Claire and I grab her arm, dragging her away.
“Where are you going?” Claire asks, abandoned in the hallway.
“Cover for her at her next class, okay?”
I take her to the one places we always can find a little privacy. The janitor’s closet.
“What’s going on?” Starlee asks, no doubt taking in my energy. She places both hands on my chest, something that usually settles me instantly. Not happening today. “Are you okay?”
I wrap my hands around her wrists. “I got in.”
“What?” Cute lines of confusion tug at her mouth. I want to kiss them away.
“I got into the Berkeley School of Art and Design. They just told me.”
The lines vanish and her green eyes grow so big I think they may pop right out. Her voice comes out in an excited whisper, “You got in?”
I nod, reaching for her and pulling her close. “Yeah.”
“Oh my god, George! That’s amazing. I knew you could do it.” Her face holds so much truth. Confidence. In me. I stare at her, holding her eyes, relishing the moment. “I’m so proud of you.”
She slams into me, giving me the tightest, sexiest kind of hug; one filled with love and support. God, I love this girl. I lift her up, squeezing her with all my might and she laughs against my chest.
I lower her to the ground, feeling some of the energy evening out, pressing my lips to hers, celebrating the first step toward my future, one that should have been unattainable to a guy like me. But just like this girl we first saw in a dusty desert museum on a hot, boiling day. She’d ended up changing our lives. Shifted the trajectory.
“We’ll celebrate,” she says. “Later.”
“Deal.”
I kiss her once more before releasing her from the closet and going to tell the others.
I follow Starlee down the hall, knowing one thing. All this proves that you never know where or when life is going to reveal itself, you just have to be ready to go for it.
3
Starlee
“Tell me you made a cake,” George says to Dexter as he walks into the kitchen. We’re at Leelee’s house having a last-minute celebration for George. We didn’t have much time to prepare, but Tom sends over roasted chicken, a delicious-smelling corn casserole and a loaf of bread. Mom makes a salad over on the kitchen counter. Dexter arrived a little after everyone else, damp and fresh from a shower. He’d spent the afternoon working on his cookies.
“Not a chance, brother,” he replies, handing him the box. Inside are a pile of the defective cookies he can’t sell.
George groans and tosses the box on the counter. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m kind of over cookies.”
Dex doesn’t look mad or offended. “Tell me about it.”
“There’s plenty of food without a cake,” LeeLee says, patting Dexter on the back. She loves having all the boys here at once, which even with us all living within fifty feet of one another is less often than you’d think. “Grab a plate and dig in.”