Ace's Basement by Ted Staunton Read Free Book Online

with me by text and Facebook because he says he feels humiliated. He feels humiliated. Do you know what it feels like to have your boyfriend break up with you by text and then go online with it after a million people have watched you pop your cutlets in a video?”
    All I can say is, “Uh, probably not.”
    All I can think is, Boyfriend? Boyfriend ? I stand there with the boxer shorts in my hands. I’m too stunned to do anything with them.
    â€œNo kidding.” Lisa is crying now. She grabs the boxers from me and throws them at the shelf. Most of them fall back on the floor. I say, “I didn’t, uh, know you had…”
    â€œWhy would you? He’s away at private school. We all met him last year when he went to our school, before you came. Rob never liked you and me doing music together, and now he’s dumped me. Online. ”
    Her shoulders are shaking, she’s crying so hard, and she’s got her hands over her face.
    I still don’t know what to do. I pick up the boxers, to not look totally useless. “Oh, just leave them,” she sobs. I keep holding them anyway, because it seems even dumber to drop them again.
    â€œWell,” I say before I even think about it, “he’s an idiot if he dumped you.” This does not seem to help. Lisa keeps right on crying, her hands still over her face. My own face feels all hot. I put the boxers on the shelf. A couple of packs fall right off again. “Sorry,” I say. I back away. Lisa is still crying.
    The big lady is still giving me the evil eye as I walk to the door. As I pass the cash, she breaks into this big smile. “I thought it was you,” she says. “That video you did with Lisa was so funny.”

Chapter Thirteen
    Mom drives us home. Chuck’s SUV is out front. As we go inside, I hear a toilet flush in the basement. It’s the soundtrack for my life.
    I help Chuck for a while. He has me put primer paint on the bathroom walls while he does more mudding and taping on the other side. Chuck doesn’t say anything about the video either. Maybe Mom talked to him. I’m starting to wonder which is worse, people who bug me about it or people who know but don’t say a word. When they don’t say anything, I worry about what they’re thinking.
    â€œPlace is shaping up,” Chuck says on the other side of the wall. Until I saw this one get built, I never knew how little there is to a wall. I always thought they were solid stone or wood or something.
    â€œUh-huh,” I say.
    â€œThink you’re gonna like it?”
    â€œUh-huh.” Truthfully, I don’t know, and right now I don’t care. I kind of liked the place the way it was, when it was too grungy for adults to want to come down here.
    â€œGood,” Chuck says. “And you know, if your mom ever decides to sell the place, it’ll raise the value.”
    â€œWhy would she do that?” I say. I don’t even care. I hear Chuck clear his throat.
    â€œOh. Well, ah, I don’t know. Just saying. But either way, you have a cool place to hang out.”
    I roll on more primer paint. I guess so. It doesn’t feel like my place though. Maybe that doesn’t matter. I mean, what am I going to do here anyway? My music career is over. The way Lisa’s feeling, I’m guessing Two is down to one, so there’s no need to practice here. And Denny’s not rushing over to hang out either. I’m getting a man cave exactly when I don’t need one. Oh man, I wish I could go busking with Lisa again, even if I played the harmonica upside down and looked dumb every time.
    I finish painting and tell Chuck I have to go do some homework. I go upstairs and lie on my bed. I stare at the ceiling. Then I get up and really do some homework. Don’t ask me why. To keep from thinking about other stuff, I guess.
    When I get to school the next morning, it’s more of the same. I’m at my locker