Starstruck

I knew that I would be in trouble, but I didn’t know how much. I’d never done wrong in school before. I’d never had to be punished.

In the end, the time I spent in the waiting room of the principle’s office was more punishing than my punishment. As a writer, I was more creative than most. I came up with countless scenarios for my punishment, like having to clean the bathrooms or being suspended. My four-point-oh grade point average couldn’t afford that.

When I was finally called in to see Mr. Wright, the principle, my palms were sweating, my heart was racing, and I had a feeling I looked a little frantic.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wright, sir. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen, I swear. I was just angry because my friend wouldn’t give me back my property. I handled that badly, and I know I need to be punished. It won’t happen again, sir, I promise. And-”

Mr. Wright laughed, a genuine smile lighting his eyes. “Breathe, Miss Abernathy,” he cut me off. I realized that I hadn’t taken a breath since I started my rambling, so I obliged. “Better?” he asked, and I nodded, feeling foolish.

“Sorry about that, sir. I’m not used to this sort of thing. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a wreck,” I confessed.

He grinned. “Now, I know that you understand that what you did was wrong, and that it was an accident that so many people got involved. Your record is spotless. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t punish you at all. But I have to. Still, I don’t think it will be too bad. If you could just show around Mr. Danas around for me, have him shadow you, I think we can put this whole incident behind us.”

It was too good to be true, but I found myself grinning, until his words registered. I looked around the room, and saw that, sitting off to the side in a big red armchair, there was a guy. And I recognized him. And he’d seen my embarrassing rant. “You’re… You’re Costi Danas. From the Epic Failures,” I choked out. He lifted one brow and gave me an appraising look.

“You’re a fan?” he asked. He was obviously trying to keep his cool, but something in his eyes gave him away- he was excited. After all, not many people in these parts knew about his band in the first place, and here I was recognizing him, and very likely staring at him in a frozen way I was sure I would be embarrassed about later, once I was over the shock of his actually being there.

“You could say that,” I muttered, unwilling to admit that I had a t-shirt with his face on it in my closet, and his CD was in my player at that very moment.

“Well, that’s wonderful!” Mr. Wright said. “I’ve placed him in all of your classes, as he had no preferences of his own. I wanted him to feel welcome here.”

“What he means by that is, my mother is paying for a new wing and he doesn’t want her changing her mind,” Costi chuckled. I choked back a laugh. I was still frozen.

Still, the goody-two-shoes in my couldn’t help but ask, “will this… incident be on my permanent record?”

Mr. Wright considered and slowly shook his head. “If you’ll tutor Mr. Danas here, I think I can forget to enter this into your file.” I grinned and rushed to his desk, kissing his cheek. He blushed a little, and said, “now, get out of here. Give him a tour. You’re excused from the rest of your classes today.”

I scurried out and paused outside of the door. “Well, I don’t really know what I should show you. How about the music wing? We’ve got an impressive Fine Arts Center.” I glanced at him and blushed. He was looking back.

God, I was such a dork.

“Sounds good, Miss Abernathy.” He slung an arm around my shoulders and grinned down at me. I squirmed. I could tell he was enjoying my easy blushes.

“My name is Aurely,” I corrected. He smelled ridiculously good. It was intoxicating, clogging up my brain.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he smirked. I huffed a little and wondered what on earth to say. Luckily, he kept talking. “Though that name’s a bit of a mouthful. You won’t be too offended if I call you Aura?”

Oh, swoon.

“N-no, that’s alright.” We had reached the building. I shifted and took out my purse, reaching for the pocket where I knew the key to the Fine Arts Center was. As the president of the orchestra, I’d been given my own key. It was really so that I could set up lights and chairs, etc. in preparation for concerts, but I didn’t think my teacher would mind my showing Costi around.

“Watch your step. There are wires running all around back here,” I told him, grinning into the darkness. This place was heaven for me. I left him in the doorway and walked confidently to where I knew the light panel was. I’d done this more times than I could count. I turned on the backstage lighting first, then the stage, then the audience.

Costi walked into the room and looked around, his gaze appraising. I felt sudden nerves flutter in my stomach. “What do you think?” I asked.

“This place is great. Really great. I used to play-”

“Trumpet, I know,” I jumped in, then nearly slapped my face. I felt like such a dweeb.

“Aura, I do believe you’re my number one fan. Want an autograph?” he gloated. I swallowed my pride and decided not to let him get to me. I was determined to treat him like just another one of my friends, or like any random stranger.

“If I’d met you on the street, I would have begged. But since I’ll be seeing you every day, I think I’ll just wait until I get a chance to steal a discarded tissue, or maybe I’ll cut a chunk of your hair out to add to the voodoo doll of you on my shrine,” I snapped sarcastically. He laughed, actually laughed. My heart hammered like mad. It was a beautiful sound. But then, that only made sense. After all, he had the best singing voice I’d ever heard.

“That’s funny. Maybe I’ll get to see it some time. I’m free tonight.”

“Are you inviting yourself over to my house?” I asked, my mouth dry.

“You bet.”

“Oh, well… tonight’s bad for me. Besides, I don’t know you.”

“Sure you do. I’d wager you’ve read all about me online,” Costi said. He was gloating again, the jerk.

“I have. But I know facts. I don’t know you. There’s a difference,” I insisted. I wished I hadn’t turned all of these lights on, because my cheeks were burning, and it had to have been obvious.

“How about I come over for tutoring, then? I’m going to need to catch up to you guys. I took off a month of school to tour. That’s why Mom sent me here. She was furious.”

“But you’re eighteen. You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to,” I felt obliged to point out. I turned off all of the lights and pushed him out of the room, trying not to enjoy the feeling of his muscles through his shirt too much.

‘Oh, yes I did. I come from a big Greek family. You do what your mother tells you in my house. No matter how ridiculous and unnecessary it is.”

I‘d already known that about him, but I thought it wise not to point that out. “School is unnecessary?”

“No, Aura, the tutoring is. But at least it will give me a chance to get to know my best fan.”

“Who says I don’t like Dylan better?” I snapped. I could tell he liked getting me fired up, but my temper wouldn’t let me drop it. Besides, the drummer in his band was a cutie, in his own way. He was also totally not my type.

“What’s his birthday?” Costi asked, smiling slyly.

“January… uhm… fifteenth?” Shoot, I couldn’t remember.

“Nope. It’s the twenty-sixth. Nice guess, though. Now, when’s mine?” he asked.

“A month before yesterday,” I said automatically.

I’d bought a red velvet cupcake, his favorite, that day, in his honor.

“I rest my case.” He slung his arm around me as we walked down the hallway. “By the way, what did you do that earned you this punishment?”

I blushed furiously. “I’d really rather not say.”

He only looked amused and said, “I’m sure it was something silly like using your cell phone in class, or talking too loudly in the library.” I didn’t correct him. Those were a lot more like me than starting food fights.

After the final bell rang, I started automatically heading toward my locker. Costi kept trailing me. “You can go now, you know,” I said.

“Well, I could, but then how would I know how to get to your house?”

Damn, I’d forgotten about that.

“Oh, well… I take the bus. I don’t have time to write out directions for you.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll drive you home.”

Which is how I found myself getting into his ridiculous neon green convertible. I had a feeling I was in for a long, long evening.