“There isn’t one guy that you’re hoping will be there?”
“You didn’t have a crush on anyone back in high school?”
I averted my eyes, trying to keep what little secrets I still had to myself. “Nope. I didn’t even really date in high school.” That statement was the truth, and I found myself growing more nervous with each second that passed.
“I think you’re lying, Cammie,” Tom teased.
John nodded. “She’s definitely lying, Tom.”
“I swear! I was more hung up on boys in bands than I was on boys I actually went to school with.” That wasn’t an entire lie. I did have a crush on one guy from a boy band for most of my teenage years. Who didn’t?
“Maybe someone from Cammie’s high school can call in and tell us who you think she’s excited to see,” Tom suggested. “’Cause there’s definitely something she’s not telling us!”
I sucked in a quick breath, but then remembered that no one from high school knew about me and Dalton. Except my best friend, Kristy, and she’d never throw me under the bus by calling in to the show.
“No one’s going to call because there’s nothing to tell.”
I said the words, praying they’d be true as I stared at the phone line buttons, watching all of them flashing simultaneously. Glancing out the divider window, I noted an intern sitting at my seat, fielding the phone calls in my absence. He didn’t look particularly enthused, so I figured none of the calls coming in were about me.
The guys bantered back and forth, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them due to years of working together. They quickly moved from “worst first dates” to “high school crushes.”
“What about you, John? Did you have a crush on someone in high school?” Tom asked, as if he didn’t know the answer.
“Uh, yeah. I married her, dummy,” John said sarcastically, because anyone who was a regular listener already knew that he was married to his high school sweetheart.
“Lucky bastard,” Tom whispered into the mic. “Enough about John, we want to hear all about your high school love, or obsession, or reveal your crush with us on the air. Call us or text us with your stories.”
“But let’s get back to Cammie.” John looked up at the computer screen and his eyes lit up. “Uh-oh, hold on a second. We have a caller from your high school on the line. Hello, Debbie, are you there?”
Crap.
“I’m here,” a girl said with a giggle, and I narrowed my eyes, trying to place the name with a face from my high school years.
“Okay, Debbie, did you go to school with Cammie?”
More giggling. “Uh-huh.”
“All right.” John lifted his eyebrows and mouthed wow at me, but I was too busy freaking out. “So, are you going to the reunion this weekend?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything! I can’t wait!” she practically screamed into the phone.
“Sounds like you’re excited to see a special someone too. But, Debbie, let me ask you this. Who do you think Cammie is dying to see there?”
“I think she’s excited to see David Lampson. I know I am,” she said breathily, and I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped.
“Ooh, is that him? Are you excited to see David Lampson?” All eyes turned to stare at me.
“No! I mean, no offense, David, if you’re listening, but not really. He wasn’t my type.”
David was definitely all looks and no brains, which had always been a turnoff to me. I liked good-looking guys as much as the next girl, but I needed more than just a pretty face. Call me crazy.
“Any other guesses, Debbie?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I don’t remember Cammie dating anyone, but she did hang out with the baseball team and stuff, so maybe it’s one of them?”
“Thanks for the call, Debbie.” John pressed a button, disconnecting her. “Have fun tomorrow,” he continued, speaking as if she were still on the line. “So, Cammie. The baseball team?”
“I hung out with the guys on the team because I played softball. All the girls did. It was like a sports bonding thing.”
“Oh, I bet you bonded, all right,” Tom added.
“Seriously?” I shot back, feeling ridiculous.
“Just tell us who it is,” he insisted, and I knew they weren’t going to give up anytime soon. “Or at least admit that there’s someone you want to see.”
I glared across the desk at them. “Fine.”
“I knew it! There is someone you can’t wait to see!” Tom shouted, his hands waving in the air.
I shrugged and said noncommittally, “There might be someone.”
“Does he know?” John asked.
“Does he know what?” I smirked, wanting to make the guys work for any information I would be forced to reveal.
John gave me a frustrated glare, urging me to play along. “Does he know that you can’t wait to see him. And that you love him?”
“I do not love him.” I breathed into the microphone, already exasperated with this conversation. “And no, he probably has no idea. I’m sure he’s forgotten all about me,” I admitted, the small truth escaping from my betraying mouth.
Tom shook his head wildly. “No way! Any guy who could forget about you is an idiot, Cammie.”
“Yeah,” John chimed in. “I’d be counting down the days until I could see you again.”