Don't Tell Mother (9 page)

Looking up, I was about to tell the idiot to watch where he was going; I was met with a pair of familiar, gray eyes.

Bob?

At least I thought the tall blonde with slicked back hair and not a single body piercing or strip of duct-tape was my BF.

His smiled weakly. “Good luck, AJ.”

He appeared so normal in a simple, green polo shirt. Like someone I could take home to Mother.

Gawd, he looked horrible.

“Why do you look like this?” I asked, unable to mask the disgust in my voice.

He winced, a flash of pain marring his eyes. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Yes…no.” I slapped my forehead with my palm. Nothing was making sense anymore. My mother had psychic powers she refused to use. My coach thought she was back in junior high, and now my vegetarian BF ate meat and dressed like a prep.

“Make up your mind,” he groaned.

“You don’t look like Bob.” Grabbing his hand, I entwined my fingers through his.

Bob arched a brow before looking at our entwined hands.

The confusion I read in his eyes mingled with my own bewilderment. Touching his warm, calloused fingers felt awkward. Why?

O-mi-god! I’ve never held hands with my BF and we’d been going out for over a week! Then another thought marred my brow. We’ve never even kissed.

“I’m still the same on the inside.” As if reading my mind, Bob did something remarkable. He bent over and brushed a kiss across my lips.

Bob was my first boyfriend, the only guy who’d ever shown interest in me, and now I was experiencing my first kiss in the middle of a crowded gym.

Tension from my miserable day drained with the feel of his lips on mine. The springy sounds of balls hitting the court, screaming fans, annoying girlies, blaring music, all hushed. Bob and his soft, perfect lips were all that mattered, as if the rest of the world was on pause, then slowly fading away.

Chapter Nine

“What happened?” Mumbling the words before the room came into view, my eyes struggled to focus on the shadows above me.

“You passed out.” Sophie’s voice cut through the confusion.

“Are you serious?” My hand flew to my aching temple as the site of my two best friends became clearer. Inhaling the familiar musky scent, I knew they’d probably carried me to the locker room. Looking down at my side, I recognized the familiar cushy, leather padding on the table our trainer used for physical therapy.

My arm, feeling like it wasn’t even attached to my body, fell limp at my side.
Why am I so weak?
I tried to recall the events that led up to my fall.
How did I end up like this? Had I even gotten to play? Was I hit by a ball?

“That must have been some kiss,” Krysta practically sang the words.

“Kiss?” What was she talking about? I struggled to lift my head, finally leaning up on my elbows. The room slowly rocked, as if I was on a gently rolling boat.

“Your BF kissed you and then you fainted,” Sophie giggled.

My breath hitched while I waited for Sophie to tell me she was just kidding. Like I didn’t just pass out in a gym full of spectators like a stupid, weak female who’d been overwhelmed by the touch of a guy.

A weird silence hung in the air. Were they waiting for me to say something? Finally, a mixed sound of groaning and gagging oozed from my lips. “Oh, gawd, can I die now?”

What was everybody thinking of me now? Team captain, campus kick ass, faints after being overwhelmed by her boyfriend’s passionate kiss.

“Kind of romantic the way she fell into his arms,” Krysta purred.

“Yeah,” Sophie said dreamily, “just like an old romance movie.”

Well, at least he didn’t let me fall on my butt.

Krysta laughed. “I didn’t know AJ could be so
girly
.”

“Please,” I moaned against the rising tide of bile threatening at the back of my throat. “You’re making my head hurt worse.”

Not to mention my ego. Acting like some silly cheerleader, I passed out before the game. Gawd, how bad did we get skunked? “Did we lose?” I asked without really wanting to know the answer.

Sophie shook her head. “Game’s not over.”

Fighting a wave of nausea, I struggled to sit. The rocking room was making it difficult for me to find my balance. “Help me up. I need to get in the game.”

“Oh, no, young lady.” An icy chill blew into the room at the sound of Mother’s shrill voice. “It’s straight home to eat some
real
food, and then it’s off to bed.”

My jaw dropped at the site of her standing in the locker room entrance. Arms folded across her chest, eyes blazing, she looked ready to smother me in a big bottle of guilt gravy.

“Mother,” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“Never mind. Mike, help AJ to the car.” My brother stepped from behind her, and before I knew what was happening, I was hoisted into his meaty arms.

Mike would understand my situation. He was a jock, too. I turned my pleading gaze on him. “My team’s gonna lose without me.”

An evil grin creased the corners of his mouth. “Your team’s gonna get their butts stomped either way.”

“Kiss
my
butt, Mike,” I spat, although the words didn’t have the venom I’d intended. I hated to admit it, but I was just too weak to be pissed. Besides, he could drop me if he wanted, and I really didn’t feel like passing out again.

Still, I wasn’t giving up without a fight. Turning my head toward Mother, I blinked my eyes until the room stopped spinning. “Mother, I’ll just get something at the snack bar. I’ll be fine. Honest.”

“Mrs. Dawson, I can’t allow AJ to play in her condition.” Coach Lowe had emerged from the shadows.

Had she been standing there the whole time? Gloating at my moment of weakness? Anger shot through my veins like liquid fire. “What are
you
doing here?” I growled.

“AJ,” Mother squealed. “That’s no way to talk to your coach.”

I shrugged, pretending my head didn’t feel as light as a helium balloon. “She’s not a real coach.”

“That’s it!” Mother yelled. “We’re going home right now!”

Now I’d done it. Made her crack her honey-coated charm in front of everyone.

Mother closed her eyes and then breathed out a gush of air. Turning toward Lowe, she batted her eyes like an innocent schoolgirl. “I’m sorry, Ms. Lowe.”

Lowe frowned. “That’s okay,” her voice broke off, as if she was trying to repress the urge to cry.

Barf.

I looked in stunned silence from Lowe to Mother, trying to decide who was the biggest fake.

Mother walked up to Lowe, placing a hand on her shoulder. The two shared a look of understanding. I didn’t need Sophie’s gift to know what they were thinking.

Lowe sighed, “All I wanted was to be her friend, but I’m used to her attitude.”

Rolling my eyes, I repressed a gloating smile as I remembered her upcoming all-night beer-fest with my team. Lowe wouldn’t have to put up with my attitude for long.

****

Why was my mother’s silent treatment way worse than her nagging? Maybe because I knew she was brainstorming a strategy to make my life a living hell. As we drove home from the game, Mother gripped the steering wheel white-knuckled, her line-drawn eyes focused on the road. Even my big mouth brother had nothing to say. I stared out the front seat passenger window, replaying the day’s events, which seemed to escalate from crappy to very crappy.

My BF was willing to eat meat, just not for my family. My BFFs would rather eat lunch in a smelly pit of freaks than with me. My coach had turned my team, including my one remaining friend on the team, against me. I blew the game by making a total fool out of myself and passing out.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Mother’s disappointment in me brought my day to a new low. I knew Mother and I rarely got along, but I wanted that to change. After the way I yelled at Lowe, Mother thought I was hateful to everyone. If only she knew how Coach Lowe was ruining my life, maybe she would’ve understood.

I stole a glance in Mother’s direction. Face twisted in a snarl, narrowed eyes blazing with fury.

Never mind. As perfect as she pretended to be, I knew Mother’s temper. I had crossed the line, and it would take her a long time to get over it.

A deep sense of hopelessness washed over me. Covering my face with my hands, I groaned as I thought about the state of my life. Oh, well, I should have been used to Mother’s anger by now. No matter how well I did in school or on the court, she would always find a way to be mad at me. Mother was the angriest person I knew, except maybe…me.

Oh, crap.

Was this woman who I was forced to endure every evening at home just like the person my teammates had to put up with? If my mother was on my team, I wouldn’t like her either, and I definitely wouldn’t invite her to parties.

That still didn’t excuse Lowe’s behavior. The coach’s job was to unite, not divide; she definitely was not supposed to get a bunch of freshman girls drunk. I’d work on that problem Friday night.

Tonight, I had another problem to fix. The silent treatment couldn’t go on forever. Clearing my throat, I turned toward Mother. “I’ve decided to eat meat again.”

“I told you not to give up meat.” She spoke through lips that barely moved. “You should have known this would happen, Allison.”

Her attitude stirred my blood. I was trying to call a truce and all she could do was nag. “You’re right,” I said with a laugh. “I don’t know why my psychic abilities weren’t working tonight.”

She shot me a hard glare. “You’re not in the least bit funny, Allison Jenette.”

Uh-oh, she called me by my full name. Now she was pissed. Was it what I said, or the meaning behind those words? I had a suspicion Mother was angry I’d mentioned my gift. “Maybe if you’d take me more seriously, I wouldn’t have to be funny.”

“I really don’t like your attitude,” she said with an icy air.

My attitude? Did she realize I got my attitude, my anger from her? Maybe if she’d accept me for who I was, I wouldn’t be angry all the time? “You raised me this way.” I shrugged, flipping my ponytail behind my shoulder.

“No, I didn’t,” she spat. “I raised you to be a well-mannered, normal, young lady.”

Exactly. She had spent my entire life trying to stuff me into a different mold because she wouldn’t accept my gift. “What do you mean by normal?”

“Forget it, Allison.” Mother vigorously shook her head, as if purging herself of the stench of weirdness that had permeated the car.

I folded my arms across my chest and blew out a frustrated breath of air. “That’s right, let’s just avoid talking about my gift. Maybe it will all go away.”

Mother shrugged, as if she was in total agreement. “You’re eating dinner in your room tonight. Tomorrow, I’m driving you to school and we are going to Ms. Lowe’s office so you can apologize for your behavior.”

Folding my arms across my chest, I resolved to stand my ground. “Lowe can kiss my butt. I’m not apologizing.”

She shook her head. “Yes, you will, or believe me I will…”

“Will what?” I snapped. “What can you possibly do that will make my life any worse?”

Face contorting, I could see the flames of rage fanning her cheeks. “You will be on restriction from everything for the rest of the school year—friends, computer, sports…”

“You can’t take sports from me!”

Mother’s bottom lip trembled. “Why should I allow you to play when you shame me with your attitude toward your coach?”

Despite my dizziness from the gnawing hunger in my belly, Mother’s rejection gave new life to my anger. “Shame you? This isn’t about
your
life. This is about
my
life! Lowe’s not even a real coach. She’s about to get canned, anyway.”

Why did I have to play these games with my mother, the one person who should accept me for who I am, the one person who should understand my differences?

“Oh, really?” Mother smirked. “You know this as a fact, or is this part of your ‘
intuition’
?”

Grrrr. Rubbing my throbbing temples, I sank into the seat’s soft, leather padding. Silently, I counted to ten. I had to keep cool just long enough to get home and retreat to my room. I never thought anything could be worse than house arrest, but sitting in a car with Mother, I’d discovered a new form of torture.

****

As soon as we got to the house, Mike jumped in his truck and drove off. He didn’t ask Mother if he could leave. She didn’t scold him for not helping me inside, but I didn’t need him, anyway. I’d eaten a bag of peanuts during the rest of the silent trip home, and my strength was returning.

I stormed through the front door, just wanting to go to my room and away from my mother. Maybe she’d make me eat alone tonight and I wouldn’t have to deal with her.

Bolting from Mother’s brocade sofa, Grandma tossed the frayed end of a cigar to the floor. “AJ, are you okay?” Concern marred her brow.

How I loved her. Even if Mother didn’t like me, I knew Grandma cared. Somehow, that softened the edge of my stressful day.

“She’s fine.” Mother grunted while picking up Grandma’s cigar with the tips of her fingers and making a grand show of throwing it in a nearby wastebasket. Her cold eyes turned on me. “Allison, go to your room.”

“Is it all right if I look at my granddaughter first?”

Stepping in front of Mother, Grandma grasped me in a strong embrace.

For a small woman, she sure could squeeze hard.

In her arms, I felt the warmth I’d known I’d been missing for a long time. Like my heart was being hugged, too. I wondered how long it had been since Mother held me. I didn’t understand why I felt as fragile as an eggshell locked in this tiny woman’s grasp. Why tears threatened the backs of my eyes. But I didn’t want Grandma to stop holding me.

Keeping her fingers locked on my forearms, she stepped back. The creases on her eyes deepened as her gaze traveled the length of my body.

My heart gave a little lurch, but it was time for her to let go. A moment longer, and my burning eyes threatened to unleash a flood of tears. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I watched Grandma examine me.