TO BE AWAKEN IN the middle of the night isn't something Pearl Blanchard is particularly fond of. The sound of her phone, unceasingly ringing over the nightstand, gets a few growls of annoyance out of the girl in her unsuccessful attempt to ignore it. Reaching out for the device, and opening one eye, she reads the name HEATH O'NEAL.
"You better be dying to be calling me at this time," she says with a sleepy voice and rolls over, now facing the roof, both eyes wide open.
"It's not even past midnight, Blanchard," he chuckles. "Come meet me outside. You're going to stop being so mad at me after you see what I've got for you." And before she can answer, he hangs up.
For a moment, she stares at the screen still processing what he just said, deciding whether to ignore him and stay in bed or do
