Playing Tyler by T L Costa Page A

getting your license today?”
    â€œYeah” – I hold up my phone – “Think mom forgot, though.”
    â€œI thought that she might. Get in, if we hurry we can still make it to the one in North Haven before they close.” He smiles, motions with his head for me to get into the car. I rush around to the passenger side. Throw open the door. Hop in.
    â€œThanks, man.” I adjust the seat so that it slides back and I can stretch my legs. Grateful with every breath I take that at least Rick is functional. At least Rick gives a damn. “You really just saved my ass.”
    â€œAnytime.” He backs up and we’re off. Just hope we can make it before they close.
    Â 
    Ani
    Why is he so determined to talk to me? I lay on my bed, running through a mental list of possible answers, my mind hovers around one:
    He must like me.
    How do I feel about that? Giddy? Excited? Terrified? Stretching out on top of my comforter, I pull my philosophy text up onto my lap. No one has ever sought me out. Not if they didn’t need me to do something for them. Even Julie, and she’s my sister.
    And he’s cute, too. Really cute. My heart flitters around right behind my ears and I push my arm into my forehead. I need to think. Maybe he just needs something, or has a question about the sim. Checking to make sure Christy is out of the room, I pull out my laptop and call up the tracers I put on all the sim systems. Access to this new technology, or at least the technology that it’s based on, is highly classified. Mr Anderson’s department came up with very specific parameters for its use. It’s part of the reason why he doesn’t want me to talk to the kids after I set up their systems. I may not be able to talk to Tyler, but I guess I can make sure his system isn’t buggy from here. Staring at lines of code, searching for patterns, for anything off, my mind narrows, focuses, comes to life.
    Wait a minute, there’s a line I didn’t write. Looks like nothing more than a linking program but I back it all up anyway, in case I’m missing something. Mr Anderson would be pissed to know that I have my own private log record of his program. But nothing will end a career faster than not having sufficient backup.
    My cell rings. I kick my roommate’s jeans out of my way as I go over to my coat and pull out the phone. “Julie?”
    â€œHey babe, what’s up?” Her voice is bouncy, like her curls, like her smile, like, well, her. You’d never know that it was past eleven out in California, not with Julie. She’s never tired.
    â€œUm, nothing.” Maybe I should ask her about Tyler. She’s dated enough guys to know whether or not I should write him back or forget him.
    â€œAny Ivy League hotties out there to tell me about?” She’s so up, all the time. UCLA is perfect for her, she even made the cheerleading team.
    I scoff. “No, but there is this guy…”
    â€œDoes he go to Yale?”
    â€œWell, no, he’s–”
    â€œAni, ditch him. Every relationship I’ve ever seen where the guy goes to one school and the girl goes to another never works out. They might pretend that it does for a while but then the next thing you know you’re walking downtown with your girlfriends and see your guy sucking face with some girl he told you was just his cousin. Anyway, moving on, I need your help.”
    Of course she does. “Um, OK, which class?”
    â€œPsychology 101, section three, with Professor Hernandez.”
    â€œPsych? I thought you wanted to major in Psych?” I ask, not as surprised as I expected to be.
    â€œUgh. I did, until I got shoved in that moron’s class. Did you know that he actually gave me a D on my test? A D! Doesn’t he know that this school needs me?”
    â€œDid you study?” I try and cut off the usual tirade.
    â€œOf course… mostly… he just hates women,