Front and Center by Catherine Gilbert Murdock Read Free Book Online Page A

Beaner, but still. So after a while I asked if we could go back downstairs to get a couple of pops, because that seemed fun too.
    And then as I was leaving the party, he walked me out and we kissed again beside the Caravan.
    "So," I asked during a breath, "why are we doing this?"
    "You're not familiar with this ritual? The whole lip-locking thing?"
    "That's not what I meant! Why—why, you know, me?"
    Beaner laughed out loud. "You really don't know?"
    "Uh, no..." Had someone had set him up? Daring him to make out with big dumb D.J.?
    "Come on! All those times we hung out together after football games—getting lunch during preseason—why do you think I was there?"
    "Um..." I said, wishing I had five hours to remember all the conversations we'd had at Taco Bell. On the field. Had I really not even noticed Beaner was into me?
    "Because of you," he put in.
    "Great."
    "No, really." Beaner pulled me a little closer, and I have to say it felt awfully nice, the way our bodies fit together. Like two puzzle pieces. "Anyway, I was thinking how maybe now that you were free, you know, maybe this could work. Between us. If, you know, you wanted it to."
    "Wow," I said, extremely intelligently. "Wow."
    "Yeah. Wow." He gave me another kiss. Which would have lasted who knows how long, but luckily my phone started ringing, and I quick wiped off my mouth and grabbed it: Mom.
    "Um, I gotta get this."
    "That's cool." He shot me a grin—a boyfriend grin. "So ... see you around."
    I have to admit my stomach did a little flip, seeing that. Boyfriend grins are pretty special. But I was also trying to start the Caravan and answer the phone and wave goodbye, so my stomach was competing with a lot of other muscles. Plus Mom kept going on about how it was too late to call and I had to keep saying it wasn't, which when you think about it doesn't make any sense, that I should be apologizing to the person who called me. I didn't tell her I'd just left a party because she'd totally freak about me
talking on a cellphone
while
driving in the dark
after
possibly drinking
with
other teenagers.
Better that I didn't have any friends and spent all my time alone in a cave. Which is what our house is basically, so she shouldn't worry.
    "Is everything all right?" I asked finally, even though I wasn't really listening to her because I was so busy thinking about Beaner. He'd said I was free.
Free
as in
available.
That meant he'd been paying attention to me and Brian.
    "Oh, everything's fine. Win's asleep now, you know, so we can talk a bit, just us two."
    "Oh. Okay." How did Beaner know about Brian? Besides
People,
I mean? Although now that I thought about it, Beaner had talked about him even during preseason. He knew somehow even back then that Brian worked for us! Was he thinking about me way back in August? And I hadn't even noticed?
    "Win would never tell you himself—you know how he is—but we're both so grateful for all this college business. You know, you're getting him the very best possible therapy."
    Wait—that got my attention. "What? I'm getting Win
therapy?
"
    "Oh, yeah. You should have seen him this afternoon on the computer. I'm not sure he'd even be making the effort, getting a special keyboard and all, if it wasn't for you. Going to websites, looking at schools ... He knows more about Ibsen College now than Ibsen does, probably!"
    "Super."
    "Oh, D.J., it is." She took a deep breath, like she was steeling herself. "You know, don't you, how important all this is? You don't want to spend the rest of your life milking cows. You
need
college, you know—it's your ticket off the farm. Well, I've got to go now, honey, but you ... Don't forget that now, will you? Don't forget."
    ***
    You don't want to spend the rest of your life milking cows.
Did I not know this? Of course I needed college to get out of Red Bend! I remembered it every second of the day! But I'd never realized Mom knew it too. I'd never heard her say it, say so bluntly, that I needed