Читать книгу Hooked - Liz Fichera - Страница 17

Chapter 10

Ryan

SETH AND I DROVE TO THE mall off the I-10 freeway. I’d picked him up at his house after golf practice, and we’d gone to mine. But chilling at the mall was way better than hanging around the house and listening to Mom nag about homework that bored me and college entrance exams that I didn’t want to take. Seth felt the same way. It was one of a million things we had in common.

I’d lied and told Mom that I already signed up for the SATs, just so that I could get out of the house. Fortunately, she’d bought it. I should feel guilty about lying to her all the time, but I didn’t. Not really anyway. Maybe because the more I lied, the easier it got.

Seth only wanted to hang because he wanted to hear all about Fred. I was going to have to lie to him, too. The truth would only crank him.

“Movie?” Seth asked me as we passed through the food court.

“Maybe.”

“What, then?” Seth stuffed his hands in his front pockets.

My shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Let’s just walk around.”

We started on the first floor and walked to the south end of the mall.

“So Zack texted me after practice and said the Indian wasn’t so bad.”

I cringed a little when he said Indian and kind of looked around to see if anyone had overheard. Seth hated Native Americans, all of them, mostly because a drunk one had killed his real dad when he was driving home from work one night on the freeway. Hit him head-on. It had happened when Seth was a baby. He knew his real dad only from pictures.

I didn’t answer him. But Seth wouldn’t let it go. “Well, what do you think?” he said. “Is she as good as Coach thinks?”

I considered it as if I really hadn’t given Fred much thought. “I don’t know,” I said finally. “She did okay, I guess.”

“Okay?” Seth stopped abruptly and faced me, toe to toe. I had no choice but to stop. “She does okay, and she gets handed my spot on the team like I don’t even matter?”

I searched his widened eyes but said nothing. I certainly wasn’t going to rub it in that he was the worst player on our team apart from Henry Graser. But Henry was Principal Graser’s son.

The problem with Seth was that he really didn’t even like golf. He played to please his stepdad. Why, I would never understand. Seth’s stepdad was the baddest guy I’d ever met.

“Coach Lannon told me to go out for wrestling,” he snarled. “Said I was built for it.”

“Well, why don’t you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to wrestle. I hate wrestling. No one cool is on the team anyway. And I didn’t practice golf all summer long to go out for wrestling.” Hands jammed in his front pockets, Seth began walking again. “I still can’t believe it,” he muttered. “It reeks. It’s not fair. And then there’s my stepdad...” His voice trailed off.

“Was he pretty mad?” I asked carefully.

“Way mad. The usual.” Seth shrugged as though it was no big deal, but I knew better.

“What’d he say?”

Seth’s tone was flat. “He called me worthless and stupid. Said I didn’t practice hard enough. Blah, blah, blah. You know, his usual crank. And there’s no way I was going to tell him that I got kicked off because of a girl. And a fucking Indian.”

I winced. “Sorry, Seth.”

“At least he didn’t whack me,” he added. Too casually. “He hasn’t done that in a while.”

I shook my head. I really wished Seth didn’t have to live with his stepdad. But as mean as he was, his stepdad was the only father Seth had ever known. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

“Well, we’ve got to do something about Fred.” He spoke as if the decision had been made.

That stopped me cold, and the shoppers behind us practically slammed into our heels. “Like, what are you thinking?” I chuckled doubtfully. And what could we do? Coach Lannon’s mind was made up. Fred was all that.

Seth continued walking, and I caught up with him as we reached the golf store where we’d bought our golf bags last year. We stopped in front of the display window. “I don’t know yet.” Seth sighed. “But this isn’t over. I’ll think of something.”

“There’s really nothing you can do.” My eyes narrowed. I didn’t want him to get madder than he already was. “Coach was pretty clear. He likes her. I don’t think he’ll change his mind, not this time.”

“What if she chokes at the tournament?” Seth said. “What then?”

My head tilted, considering this. “Maybe,” I said, but not too confidently. I honestly didn’t expect Fred Oday to fail, not with her swing. Unless both of her arms were amputated by Thursday, she would probably do better than at least half the players on the team.

Seth’s nostrils flared. And just as I was going to open my mouth to try to encourage Seth to go out for wrestling again, I glanced into the golf-store display window. My teeth clamped shut. Then I mumbled, “I don’t believe this...”

Inside the store, Fred Oday picked up a white golf shoe and fingered its laces. A tiny smile brightened her face. Her smile faded into a sort of frown, a sad frown, when she turned the shoe over in her hands. Strangely, I wondered what crossed her mind. It was just a lame shoe—and a golf shoe. No big thing. But then she replaced the white shoe on the display, stood back to admire it with her hands clutched behind her back, only to pick it up a moment later like she was seeing it for the first time. Her hair fell over her bare shoulder as her head tilted sideways, covering half her face.

I gulped.

“Oh, no,” Seth moaned. He drew back a breath through his teeth. “You saw her, too?”

I blinked and then turned to Seth. I nodded but then wished I hadn’t. Now was not a good time to confront Fred Oday in the middle of the mall. She was the last person Seth needed to see.

“I didn’t think you saw her,” Seth said. “I saw them when we walked past the food court. I’m pretty sure they didn’t see us.”

My eyes narrowed. “Who are you talking about?”

“Your dad.” Seth lowered his voice along with his chin, not that it was necessary. The mall noise muffled everything. “And that girl.”

“My dad? Where?”

Seth’s head tilted sideways toward the west end of the food court.

I followed the arc of Seth’s head till my gaze landed on a round table next to the fountain. Through a fake potted fern, I watched as Dad chatted up a girl with spiky red hair. He was still wearing his shirt and purple tie from this morning except that his tie was loosened at the neck. The girl tossed her head back and laughed at something he said. She didn’t look much older than my cousin Lauren. Except the girl seated across from Dad didn’t look like she went to college. She wore a black smock with a white name tag, accentuating the paleness of her face. Her lips were bright red.

“I think that’s the lady who cuts my dad’s hair,” I muttered. “She cuts mine, too. Sometimes.”

Seth turned to me. “She’s pretty hot.”

“Shut up, Seth,” I said.

“Well, she is,” he replied, just as Dad placed his hand over hers in the middle of their tiny table.

My stomach did a somersault before my cheeks flushed hot. Dad looked as if he liked her. I found myself clenching my fists. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Sure. Where?” he said, but I’d already turned.

“Anywhere but here.”

Seth jogged after me. “You gonna tell your mom about it?”

I snorted. “Don’t have to.”

“She already knows?”

“Why do you think she’s always working?” Seth had to jog to keep up with me.

By the time we reached the parking lot, I was breathing so hard that my ribs hurt. I tried to stop thinking about Dad and his new girlfriend by thinking about Fred and her smile. But it didn’t really work. I kept seeing my angry reflection staring back at me in store windows.

Seth knew me better than to ask what was wrong. “Why don’t we head to the arcade and scare up some freshmen?”

“Nah.” I shook my head.

“Come on,” he said, reaching for the door handle to his pickup truck. “It’ll be fun.”

I climbed inside the truck, silent. I wasn’t in the mood to terrorize the newest unsuspecting freshmen at Lone Butte High School who were dumbass enough to spend time at the arcade. Last time we did, Seth had had one redheaded dude practically in tears when he kept challenging him to a game of air hockey in front of his friends. The frosh had finally relented and bombed, although not after Seth had smacked the back of his head with his hand and told him to stop being such a tool.

“It’ll be a good time,” Seth said, not letting it go. “You know you want to.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

I sighed. “Okay, okay. Let’s go.” It was better than going home. Anything was better than going home.

“Good answer,” Seth said as the tires squealed across the parking lot toward the exit.