How Lamar's Bad Prank Won a Bubba-Sized Trophy by Crystal Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

Billy doing? I’ve seen his game. Gutters aren’t a part of it. He was sandbagging, wasn’t he? Are you two hustling? Don’t try to play me.”
    I shrug. “He’s trying something new. Please don’t go all lecture on me, okay?”
    â€œI wasn’t. I just asked a question.”
    The wonderful aroma of cheese and pepperoni drifts in my nostrils. The perfect conversation changer suddenly comes to me.
    â€œWant some pepperoni pizza? I’ll buy.”
    Makeda grins. “That sounds good.”
    I get up, take a few steps, and turn back to her.“And your outfit is fly.”
    She’s still grinning. “Thanks.”
    Holy pepperoni! It’s hard to strut and move through crowds, especially when you’ve got money and an awesome cell phone in your pocket. But I try anyway. Back up, suckers! I’m buying a girl something to eat. That’s right, I said a girl , and she’s hungry. Don’t make me call somebody, because I’ve got a cell phone.
    I get us a large pizza with extra cheese, place it on the table and take a big whiff.
    â€œ Mmmm. Doesn’t that smell good?”
    Makeda’s eyes sparkle as she takes a piece. “Yes, it really does. I haven’t had pizza since school let out.”
    I stop in midchew. “Why?”
    â€œWe don’t eat pizza at our house. Mom cooks every day, and pizza never makes the menu.”
    I wipe my mouth with my wrist. “Well, you can have a slice of pizza every day if you want. I’ll make sure of it.”
    I’m thinking that’s a great hint of my intentions. But by the look on her face, it wasn’t.
    I shrug. “What? What did I say?”
    â€œLamar, why are you doing this? What do you want?”
    â€œNothing. I just…what do I have to do to make you believe that I’m through with pranks?”
    She plays with her bangs. “I don’t know. I want to believe you, but my brain reminds me I’m eating pizza with the guy who made me hate going to school.”
    I pick up my drink and look in it to hide my face. “I made a mistake. People can change.”
    When she doesn’t answer, I raise my eyes to meet hers. We hold that gaze and I don’t look away. I want her to see it in my eyes, hear it in my voice, and know I mean it. Finally, she breaks our silence.
    â€œThe pizza’s good. Thanks.”
    I smile back. “What are your plans for the summer?”
    â€œMVP camp.”
    I should’ve asked something else. This girl’s way out of my league. She’s probably got fifteen MVP trophies with little golden ladies posing on her fireplace mantel. When she finds out my hardware count is zilch, she’ll kick me to the curb. So I might as well act like it’s no big deal.
    â€œWhat did you get your MVP trophy for? Soccer?”
    She giggles. “Oh no. MVP stands for ‘morals, values, and principles.’ It’s a camp right outside of Evansville. This is my third summer attending, and I’m being considered for a position as assistant counselor. I’m pumped about it.”
    â€œIs it for guys and girls?”
    â€œJust girls. But it’s the best four days of my summer. There are lots of girls from all over Indiana. It’s the one place where I can be myself.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    She shakes her head. “You’ll laugh.”
    â€œNo I won’t.”
    Makeda puts those big brown eyes on me. I give her my full attention.
    â€œMy grandmother was a missionary. She devoted her life to helping people. Mom and I traveled with her once to a very poor area in Mexico. I’ll never forget the friends I made and how many times the people thanked us for coming. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
    I nod. “That sounds tight.”
    â€œIt was. The girls around here…I mean, they’re my friends and everything, but I can’t share my dream with them.