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Authors: Tara West

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BOOK: Don't Tell Mother
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My beautiful mother. The image of perfection.

On the outside.

I wasn’t fooled. “Meet him?”

“Why don’t you invite him to dinner, Mom?”

My older brother, Mike, was smirking from the other end of the table. During my interrogation, I’d forgotten he was there. By the excited expression on his irritating face, he’d been hanging on every word.

Having Bob over for dinner was the last thing I wanted. Forget that he was a freak. What would he think of
my
family? “I don’t think…”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Mike.” Mother beamed at him, her icy-blue gaze taking on a much warmer hue.

I narrowed my eyes and shot mental daggers at Mike.
Why did I have to have a brother? Why?
Things were supposed to be different now that we were older. Now that he was out of the ‘hold my sister down and fart on her face’ stage, I thought he was actually maturing.

Guess not.

Mike lowered his eyelids and leered from under his lashes. Oh, yeah, the jerk was having a real fun time putting me on the hot seat. Just last week, he’d been busted stealing a dead cat from the lab room and leaving it on his English teacher’s chair.

Even though Mike was in high school, and I was stuck in junior high, gossip traveled fast in our small community. I’d heard all about the cat incident before Mike’s principal got a chance to call home, but Mother didn’t even put him on house arrest.

Mike was president of the junior class, captain of the tennis team, starting quarterback for varsity, blah, blah, blah. My friends thought Mike was some kind of bronzed, blonde God. Sure, he had muscles; sure he was okay to look at, but underneath…what an irritating, immature creep. According to Mother, Mike could do no wrong.

Meanwhile, none of my accomplishments seemed to matter to her. She hardly ever went to my games. Captain of the girls’ basketball team and starting softball pitcher meant nothing to a former head cheerleader. I could score ten points on the court before any of those stupid cheerleaders counted their toes. But as a jock, I wasn’t a
normal
girl, or so Mother told me.

“Yeah, I’d like to meet him, too.” Mike grinned, smacking a spoonful of cereal like a pig. “I don’t remember him from Greenwood. What sports does he play?”

I hoped Mother didn’t notice my cheeks were burning. They felt on fire. “Oh, you know, the usual.”

“Let’s save these questions for Bob,” Mother interrupted. “Invite him over this Friday. Is there something wrong, dear?”

She scrutinized my face as I tried not to breathe.

“Don’t worry,” she smiled. “We’ll try not to be too scary.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

“BOO!”

Startled, I dropped my gym-bag as I turned. My first instinct was to punch whoever had screamed into my ear, but before I could react, my senses were overwhelmed by…green?

Green everywhere; it was a total green overload. I didn’t know if my eyes, or my embarrassment, could handle it. Bob had painted himself head to toe in our school color. Even his Mohawk looked greener than usual. I barely had time to focus on the frosted tips of his spiked hair before my gaze was drawn to his shirtless green chest. Something, other than all that paint, was definitely not normal. Our other school color was silver, just like the silver duct tape that spelled ‘Go AJ’ across Bob’s torso.

One look at my BF’s huge, goofy grin, and I found myself taking on the school color of our rivals, red—bright red.

“Bob, what are you doing?” I hissed through a frozen smile.

Bob’s grin faded slightly. “I came to support you. What’s the problem?”

“Look at what you’re wearing.” I scanned the school foyer. A throng of people made their way toward the gym entrance, and everyone was staring.

He threw his arms in the air and yelled, “I got school spirit!”

Oh, God, even his armpit hairs were green. I thought I would vomit.

Bob tugged on his hairs once before lowering his arms. “You like the pits? I looked like a monkey in a tree waiting for these to dry.”

I grabbed his elbow and pulled him behind a large potted plant, trying not to transfer too much of the gooey, green grease onto my fingers.

I gazed up at him. Up until this point, I’d been proud that my boyfriend was nearly six foot four, but now, his height only drew more attention as he was waving to people from behind the plant. I had to do something about my BF, quickly, before he made a major fool out of both of us. “Go wash off.”

“What?” He scrunched his eyes, looking confused.

Didn’t he get it? Was I going out with the school’s biggest moron? Maybe Krysta and Sophie were right about him. I exhaled, trying to relax my shoulders, while I thought of the best way to explain. “Everyone’s going to make fun of you.”

He shrugged. “So.”

“So?” The vein in my forehead felt like it would burst. I ground my teeth, trying not to lose my cool. “This is just a scrimmage, not state finals.”

If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought Bob was trying to get a rise out of me. Were all guys like my brother?

“This is who I am, AJ.” Bob shook his head and laughed, his gray eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just being myself. I thought that’s why you liked me.”

“That was…it is.” I had to chew on that for a moment.

Bob was just being himself? He wasn’t trying to annoy me? Looking into his soft gray eyes, I realized he was being sincere. I guess I knew he was weird before I agreed to go out with him. I should’ve expected this from a guy who had more body piercings than should be humanly possible.

“AJ! Where are you? It’s warm-up!”

I turned at the sound of Keysha, our point-guard, screaming for me in the foyer.

“Okay.” Bob jabbed my shoulder. “I’ll see you after the game. Watch for me. I’ll be the loudest, greenest member of the AJ fan club.” He ran toward the gym entrance, hands waving, screaming “Go AJ!” and “Greenwood rocks!”

Stepping from behind the plant, I grimaced at the raised eyebrows of parents as Bob flew by them. As I listened to the wave of uproar from my peers, I hoped they were laughing with him and not at him.

As I caught the echo of Bob screaming my name throughout the gym, I felt a twinge of guilt. He was here to support me, and I was too embarrassed to be seen with him. I’d always done what I wanted to do, never caring what others thought about me.

Why did I care now?

Spotting Keysha coming toward me, I realized I needed to shift to game mode and put Bob out of my mind.

“Who’s that?” she said, rolling her eyes.

I tensed. I didn’t need Keysha telling the whole team their captain was seeing the Jolly Green Giant. “Nobody.”

I headed toward the locker room with Keysha beside me.

“I’ve got some bad news.” She frowned.

A list of possibilities ran through my mind. Game cancelled? Our center broke her ankle? Coach Carter was going to increase practice from three to four hours? “What?”

“We have a new coach.” She shook her head.

No way! How could Carter have ditched us? We were improving, practicing long hours every day without complaint. She was tough, but a good coach. She encouraged us and sometimes screamed at us, but she knew how to set up picks. Even though she was five months pregnant, Carter never missed a practice or a game.

Wait a minute! Could something have happened to her baby?
“What happened to Carter?”

Keysha shrugged. “I don’t know, but our new coach is already in the locker room. She barely looks old enough to be our big sister.”

That didn’t sound good. Coach Carter was the best coach I ever had. Replacing her would be impossible, especially with a newbie.

I paused at the locker room entrance. Nauseating girly giggles were erupting from inside. That couldn’t be my team in there. Tentatively, I opened the door, following the sound of annoying laughter.

Turning the corner, I saw her, standing on a bench; my traitorous team huddled beneath her. They gazed at…no, worshipped her like she was some statue goddess.

Hands on hips, she tossed her brown ponytail to the side and looked directly at Keysha and me. “Hey, girlies. What’s up?”

Please, don’t let this be our new coach. She didn’t even look old enough to buy beer.

“Girlies?” I stammered.

“Whoa.” She pointed. “Are you AJ?”

This was insane. What happened to Carter? I narrowed my eyes, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.

“Yeah, why?”

“Cool. The star player.” She threw a few feints into the air, pretending to shoot an invisible ball into an imaginary basket. “Gonna bust some moves out there?”

Is she for real? Arms folded across my chest, I cocked my head to the side. “Yeah, sure.”

“Great, let’s get our game-plan. I’m Coach Lowe. Coach Carter is having some problems with the pregnancy thing and has to stay in bed the rest of basketball season.” She blew her whistle once before jumping on the bench like a cheerleader pumping up the crowd at a pep rally. “But we’re going to have a totally wicked season.”

We were way too cool to act like ditzy cheerleaders. Or so I thought. I frowned at the sight of my team jumping and clapping. When Coach Lowe came around and gave everybody a high five, I turned my back, pretending to get something out of my gym-bag.

This
girl
was an adult, so shouldn’t she act like one? This was a basketball game, not a slumber party. If she tried to be everybody’s friend, the team wouldn’t take her seriously when she gave orders. And I knew what that led to—chaos on the court and a losing season.

Unacceptable.

I had a hard enough time getting my mother’s respect as the captain of a winning team. If this coach didn’t measure up soon, she’d have to go.

****

Half-time and our side had only twenty points on the board. This was pathetic. The girls weren’t listening to me. They kept looking at Coach Lowe as she cheered them on. Not once did she criticize the team when they didn’t follow through with their picks. She didn’t yell at the ref when I was fouled three times by the same big, stupid, Godzilla girl who was breathing fire down my neck.

Lowe had her back turned when Joanna and some scrawny redhead got into a wrestling match over the ball. The referee and the other coach were breaking them up before Lowe took notice. Throughout the rest of the half, I kept waiting for Lowe to call a time-out, but she never did. The other coach didn’t either. He must have guessed Lowe didn’t know what she was doing and decided not to interrupt as long as his team was winning.

Paige, our center, never made it to the basket in time. She was too busy smiling and pretending she was playing while Sophie took yearbook pictures. Our rivals only had thirty points, thanks to Keysha, but she was worn out trying to do hers and Paige’s job.

When we all huddled for the half-time meeting, I decided to take charge. Lowe had her chance. She obviously didn’t know a lay-up from a screw-up. I’d have to coach the team the rest of the season if we wanted to win any games.

I glared at the downcast expressions of my teammates while they pathetically fumbled with their fingers or rocked on their heels. They weren’t fooling me. They played well when Carter was our coach, and I knew they hadn’t forgotten how to win a game in one day.

I chewed Paige’s butt first. “What I want to know is why haven’t you been under the basket?”

“I was distracted.” She offered a half-hearted, apologetic grin. “I didn’t get down there in time.”

“That’s a lame excuse,” I spat.

“Okay, girls, stop fighting.” Coach Lowe invaded our circle, shaking her head. “That won’t help us win.”

Who invited Lowe into the conversation? Was she making an appearance, so the parents watching would think she was a real coach?

This woman was interfering with my team. I leaned forward, jutting my chin up. “Ignoring the problem won’t help us win, either.”

Lowering her voice, Lowe held out both palms. “Now, let’s take a breath and calm down.”

“Paige is slow,” I growled. “Give me someone who can keep up with the pace.”

Lowe’s temple creased, and she wagged her finger like I was my Shitzu, Patches, and I’d just peed on the carpet.

“We’re not here to judge the way Paige plays.”

I laughed. Is she for real? “Yes we are. I’m the captain. You’re the coach. That’s our job. Send in Carly,” I demanded.

“Give me another chance, Coach,” Paige whined.

“Okay, Paige.” Lowe smiled and patted Paige on the shoulder. “I know you can do it.”

Rage was about to split my head in two. My heart pounded, and not from the exercise. “What? What kind of coach are you?” In my four years of playing basketball, I had never played for such an idiot.

She frowned. “AJ, I think you’re the one who needs to sit the bench, and while you’re there, think about being nicer to us. We’re your teammates.”

I heard the shocked intake of breath followed by the low murmurs of my team. I noticed their bulging eyes before they slowly backed away. They knew my temper.

They knew what was coming.

I clenched my fists, trying to keep from exploding. “No, you’re not my teammate! You’re my coach. How old are you, like twenty? Do you know anything about basketball?” Anger was welling up in me so fast I could feel tears forming at the backs of my eyes.

Her jaw dropped and she put her hand over her chest, looking as if I’d just sent an arrow through her heart. “Look, AJ, I really want to be your friend, but…”

“I don’t want you to be my friend!” I screamed, stepping within inches of her face. “I want you to be my coach!”

Who was she fooling, anyway? Pretending like I’d hurt her feelings. Poor Coach Lowe—my butt. I suddenly realized what this was all about. She was trying to make me look like the bad guy and turn my team against me.

Lowe stepped back, mouth agape, before she finally spoke in a heated whisper. “I’m sorry, AJ, but you’re out for the rest of the game.”

Steam must have been shooting out of my ears, I was so, so MAD. “You can’t throw me out. We’ve only got twenty points on the board and I’ve scored fifteen of them.”

BOOK: Don't Tell Mother
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