“Ok...ooh...Brenda?”
I school my features. “Nope. My brother was named for that show.”
His face visibly pales at the mention of my brother, as it always does. He clears his throat. “Of course. Dylan, right?”
I nod. “Dylan Dawson James.”
Ty laughs. “That’s actually pretty awesome.”
“He hated it. Not Dylan so much, but the fact that his first two initials were double D made middle school a little crappy.”
“I’ll bet. So,90210andDawson’s Creekare out….Saved by the Bell? Lisa? Jessie? Kelly?”
“No, no, and no. But I am impressed with your wealth of '90s TV knowledge.”
“I can’t take any credit. That’s all Whit. It’s just sheer osmosis that the rest of us absorb music and pop culture references dating back to the '70s.”
“Yea?”
He nods. “His dad, who died when he was just a little kid, was a radio deejay in the '80s and '90s. So, Whit’s a little obsessed with those eras. I’m pretty sure he has his dad’s old shows memorized. But he also genuinely loves the music and the time periods. And we all benefit. Between that, and Booker’s sports IQ, I’m gonna aceJeopardysomeday.”
“And what does your other friend bring to the table? Knox?”
He barks out a laugh. “Comics, believe it or not. Also daddy issues, but that’s a story for another day. And besides, you still haven’t told me your middle name.”
“Why should I? So you can reveal that your real name is Tyler? So mysterious.”
“ERRRRR.” He mimics a buzzer.
“It’s not Ty or Tyler? Um… There aren’t a lot of other choices.”
“There’s one,” he tells me.
“OMG. Is it your initials? Like Thomas Yancy or something?”
He laughs. “Yancy? Really?”
“There aren't a lot of names that start with Y!” I defend myself.
“Fine. It’s not initials, just a shortening of my actual name.”
“Tyson!” I say with glee.
“Wrong again. And I think it’s high time you fessed up.”
“It’s really not Tyson? Are you sure?”
He smiles and reaches to tuck my hair behind my ear in a gesture that is both far too intimate and not remotely intimate enough. “Yes, Phoebe Something James, I am completely sure my name is not Tyson.”
I huff. “Fine. I’ll give you the show. But then you’re on your own. It’s fromBuffy.”
“No shit? I applaud your mom’s genius. Whit’s going to love you just for this alone. Ok, is it Buffy? Because that…that would be both tragic and glorious.”
“It really would. But no.”
“Willow? That’s pretty.”
I shake my head.
