Spring Perfection Read Free Page B

tonight. I want to go," I said. I was
way too innocent back then. I should have concocted some story about a
mandatory basketball practice or something, but I never expected the evening to
proceed as it did.
    Sam tore her eyes away from the television and looked me up and
down. "You look ridiculous," she said before turning her attention
back to the TV.
    I sighed. "Mom, are you gonna take me or not?"
    "Six minutes on the clock. Just wait till the end of the
game." She waved me off.
    In a basketball game, I knew six minutes on the clock could very
well mean fifteen or twenty actual minutes. I went back upstairs to obsess over
my look for another twenty minutes.
    When the game was over, I went back down stairs. "Can we go
now?" I asked her. She was in the kitchen making one of her God awful
protein smoothies. The way she angrily slammed cabinets shut, I knew Duke must
have won. She was in a really bad mood.
    "You're not going anywhere, Scott."
    "Why not?"
    "I did some research. Made some calls. You're going with
Reyna Lewis?"
    "Yeah, so?"
    "Unacceptable."
    "Why?" I asked completely in shock. How had she found
out about Reyna? I bet she called Coach. Sam was a pro at spying on me.   I should have told him not to tell her
anything in case she asked.
    "Don't be stupid, Scott. She's a typical gold-digging whore.
All she wants is your money."
    This was classic Sam-speak. She had this idea in her head that I
was worth millions in future sports contracts.
    "I don't have any money, Sam. I'm only thirteen. She's my
friend. She's my best friend. I promised her."
    Sam turned on the blender. She probably didn't hear a word I said.
When she finally turned off the blender, I repeated myself but she didn't care.
She poured two glasses and sat down at the table.
    "Sit," she said, placing a glass of the disgusting
protein drink down in front of me. "Drink that. Then we're going for a
run."
    "No, we're not. I'm going to the dance."
    "The hell you are. Dating a girl like Reyna could ruin your
persona and irreparably damage your future earning potential. It's out of the
question. Drink."
    Tears stung in my eyes. I absolutely refused to let her see me
cry. To avoid an onslaught of tears I chugged the protein drink just to
distract my emotions. When I finished, she proceeded to lecture me about my
responsibilities as a future professional athlete and how I had to lay the
groundwork now in order to have a successful future. An hour later, we went for
a run and I never made it to that dance.
    The next morning at school, I waited for Reyna by her locker. She
took one look at me and then took a different route to her first class. She
could avoid me for first period; we were in different math classes. But she'd
have to talk to me in English class.
    All through first period, I rehearsed what I would say to her. I
had to figure out something to tell her that would make her forgive me. That
something didn't include what my insane mother had said. I thought she would be
even more hurt if she knew how my mother felt about her.
    So instead, as soon as she entered English class I said, "I'm
so sorry Rey. I got caught up playing video games and I totally lost track of
time."
    She stared at me incredulously. "Video games?" she asked.
    I nodded.
    "Which one?" She
crossed her arms and stared at me.
    She knew I was lying. She had to. I was such a bad liar and she
knew me so well I wouldn't be able to lie to her if I'd planned it for weeks.
She was sure to see through this last minute fib.
    "Grand Theft Auto," I said naming the first game I could
think of.
    She raised an eyebrow. "Grand Theft Auto? You hate Grand Theft Auto. You say it's depressing."
    She was right about that. We'd had a conversation about it almost
a year ago. How did she remember things like that?
    She had caught me lying and I had no idea what to say. Instead, I
just stood there with my mouth hanging open.
    Reyna rolled her eyes and stormed off to the other side of the
room away from the seat next