The Boy Recession by Flynn Meaney Read Free Book Online Page A

antifeminist,” Derek corrects me. “Bobbi’s on the tennis team, and the tennis team and football team work out at the same time. They’ll be hitting the gym together.”
    Down on the field, Eugene’s sprinting up and down the sidelines. After about three sprints, he looks winded. I sit down next to Derek, who’s taken his lighter out of his pocket and is flipping it up over and over with his thumb.
    “Hey,” I say to him. “How do you know all this? When did Eugene tell you about his master plan?”
    Derek shrugs. “Last week. He took me out, and we had a heart-to-heart. He bought me waffle fries.”
    “Dammit,” I say, shaking my hair into my eyes to block out the sun. “Eugene’s supposed to have heart-to-hearts with me. He’s supposed to buy
me
food.”
    Shrugging, Derek says, “He said he called you, but you were asleep.”
    Down on the field, the recruits are in position, and Eugene got put on the defensive line. Guys on the defensive line face the biggest guys on the field—the offensive linemen. Eugene, who’s neither built like a brick wall nor particularly fast, isn’t the best fit for the position. Right as the whistle blows, he charges forward and heads directly for Chung, who’s playing offense.
    And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you get a black eye in touch football.
    Meanwhile, all of us on the bleachers start to laugh. “Maybe we should be taping this for YouTube,” Derek says.
    “Maybe we should be calling my chiropractor,” Damian says, sounding genuinely worried.

    Once the excitement is over, the other guys take off, but I wait around for Eugene, who makes it through the rest of the tryout and even hangs out afterward, trying to be “the man,” slapping hands with all the guys on the team.
    “Yo, Tim Tebow!” I call to him from the fence. “Let’s move it along here.”
    Finally he gets off the field, and we head back to the school together. I’m on my longboard, weaving along the path, and Eugene’s walking next to me, chugging Gatorade.
    “How’d I look out there?” Eugene asks me, in between huge gulps.
    “Well…” I tilt my heels back so the longboard turns away from Eugene. Just then, Bobbi comes off the tennis court at the same time we’re walking by.
    “Hi, Eugene! Hi, Hunter!” she says, coming toward us, holding her racket. “Hunter, are you trying out, too?”
    “For the football team?
Nooooo
,” I tell her, shaking my hair into my face.
    “You should!” Bobbi encourages. “They need guys! And you look like you’re in good shape!”
    I just kinda laugh. I’m in terrible shape.
    Speaking of people who are in terrible shape, Eugene asks Bobbi, “How was practice? Did you get the new serve down?”
    “Not totally perfect,” Bobbi says, shaking her head. Her forehead is all sweaty, but even her sweat is sexy. “But how was practice for you? How was the first day of tryouts?”
    “I think everyone was impressed,” Eugene says, all serious and thoughtful. “Those calf exercises we did together, I really felt those. I was pretty quick off the blocks, ya know?”
    “Foot speed is important,” Bobbi agrees, nodding. “We’ll do more of those tomorrow.”
    Eugene turns to me and explains, “I told Bobbi I was trying out for the team, so she took me to the gym this weekend to show me how to work out. She’s been giving me some great tips on building muscle.”
    “Uh-huh,” I say, grinning.
    “And
you
were supposed to bring me that mineral bath soak,” Bobbi says. “My sore muscles need it!” When she says
you
, she pokes Eugene in the shoulder and laughs.
    “I will!” Eugene says. “Text me to remind me!”
    I’m seriously impressed. I mean, Eugene put his seduction plan into action on Friday night; it’s only Monday, and he’s already got Bobbi’s number,
and
her workout tips. As Bobbi walks Eugene and me back toward the school, I realize the weirdest part of this conversation isn’t the fact that Eugene takes baths. Instead,