Sugar, We're Going Down Swinging

Chapter Six

Wednesday and Thursday passed without incident—Astley and I were okay, Garrett and I flirted and talked in our two classes together. Estella still gave me the dirtiest of looks, but she’d been doing that since kindergarten; I could deal.

It was Friday, right after school, that everything changed. I was on my way out to my car to meet Astley when my phone began vibrating in my back pocket. I pulled it out without looking at the caller ID, answering with a flippant ‘hello’ as I tucked it between my shoulder and my ear. “Hey,Shannon?” I almost choked. Garrett. When I’d given him my number, I hadn’t expected him to call—he didn’t call Wednesday like he promised, but I thought he’d been joking anyways. Yet, here he was. Waiting for me to answer.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I answered quickly, stumbling over the words quickly. “Hey,” he said, a smile evidently laced through his words, “I wanted to apologize for not calling on Wednesday like I said I would—I got a little, uh, distracted.”

“It’s okay,” I answered automatically, finally finding my car, Astley leaning against the hood with an exasperated look on his face. “Don’t lean on my car,” I snapped at him, unlocking the doors and climbing in. “Uh, what?” Garret asked, clearly thinking the command was meant for me. “Sorry,” I said, flushing, “I was yelling at Astley.”

“Oh, okay,” Garret answered, “Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe go out tonight?”

I raised my eyebrows, suddenly frozen where I was. Garrett Dawson had just asked me out on a date. Astley was staring at me, thousands of questions etched on his features. I glanced at him, my lips parted slightly. One glance into my best friend’s eyes was all it took—I knew my decision.

“Shannon?” Garrett prompted.

“Um, yeah,” I swallowed hard. “You can call me Shay by the way—Shannonsounds kinda formal. And, yes, I’d love to go out with you tonight.”

Astley’s head jerked towards me, clearly very confused by this, which only egged me on more. Not only had I allowed him to call me a nickname that only Astley had called me for years, but I was going on a date. “I have dance class until six—but we can go out afterwards, if you want.”

“Babe, we’ve got all night. I’ll be in front of your house at seven thirty.”

Smiling like an idiot, I replied, “Okay, bye,”

To which he answered, “Bye beautiful.”

Maybe getting over Astley wouldn’t be so hard.

“Who was that?” Astley demanded, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

“Garrett Dawson,” I answered nonchalantly, as I pulled out of the spot.

“You hate him,” Astley said automatically. “So do you,” I retorted, giving him a meaningful look, “but that didn’t stop you from ditching me for him.” That shut him up.

Brin and Danielle don’t quite take it as calmly as Astley:

Brin: “You’re going on a date?”

Danielle: “With Garrett Dawson?”

Me: …

Brin: “She’s going on a date.”

Danielle: “With Garrett Dawson.”

Me: …

Danielle: “She’s going on a date!”

Brin: “And it’s not with Astley!”

Me: . . . .

James and Christian just look at me like I’m stupid—which is nothing new, anyways.