The F- It List by Julie Halpern Read Free Book Online Page B

squeezed my butt. It felt so good and comforting, I would have been willing to take all of my clothes off right then and there. In that moment, I understood every reason Becca did what she did last summer with Davis.
    And then my phone rang. My mom’s ringtone. Quite possibly the least sexy ringtone I could have asked for, not that I would have asked for any.
    I jerked away from Leo to answer. I hung up. “Hi, Mom. Just driving around. Yeah, I can come home now. See you soon.
    “I have to go.” I turned to Leo, who perched himself up on his elbow.
    “Yeah, okay.”
    I looked around to find my car keys and stood up. Leo remained in his reclined position while he pulled his cigarettes out of his jacket again.
    “So, I guess I’ll see you in school,” I said. My mind had moved on to what would transpire when I got home, having to tell my mom about Becca.
    “Yep.” He lit his next cigarette and returned to his back.
    Confused but preoccupied, I left him in the grass and drove toward home as though what just happened was as imaginary as a clown in the clouds.

CHAPTER
9
    WHEN I ARRIVED HOME, the house was in a much more chaotic condition than when I had left. AJ and CJ marked their presence everywhere, from their cleats strewn across the doormat to the clots of dirt that made a trail to the basement, where they played an incredibly loud video game. Their stench was also noticeable.
    My mom was in the kitchen unpacking some Target bags. “Hi, Mom,” I greeted her.
    “Hi, honey. How was your day?” she asked as she added to her collection of overpriced hand soaps under the sink.
    “It was okay. I guess.” Since my dad’s death, I hated to burden my mom with anything heavy. But if I didn’t tell her about Becca and she somehow found out, then we’d have a blow-up argument about how I don’t confide in her anymore. That already happened over the summer when I hadn’t told her about me and Becca’s friendship hiatus. “Not really, actually. Can I tell you something?”
    My mom was still distracted by her unpacking, so I emphasized my need for undivided attention by taking a soap pump out of her hands.
    “Honey, what is it?” She sounded concerned, if not exhausted. Mom was a few inches taller than me, which I appreciated for its momness. I looked up at her eyes, dark brown like mine, and said, “I found out today that Becca has cancer.”
    “Oh, sweetheart. Oh.” Mom engulfed me in her arms. I wished she hadn’t. I choked, and tears started streaming down my face. By the time I was finished, my mom’s shoulder was covered in saltwater and snot. She put her hands on my cheeks after subtly wiping tears from her own eyes. “Do you know anything more? What kind? What stage?”
    It seemed ironic, using the word “stage” for cancer and Becca. I knew it wasn’t the same meaning, but Becca loved the stage. Whatever stage of cancer she had, I hoped it was a good one. “Hodgkin’s lymphoma. I don’t know what stage.”
    “Hodgkin’s. That’s a good one to have, if there is a good one. Your uncle Alan had it and beat it. Becca’s strong like you. She’ll beat it, too.”
    “I hope,” I sniffed. “We cut her hair off today.”
    “That glorious hair. It’ll grow back. You know that already. You know so much already.” Mom looked at me sadly, and I knew she was referring to my dad.
    I didn’t want her to get on that morose path, so I said, “She starts chemo tomorrow. I’m going to send her a message to wish her luck.”
    “You’re a good friend.” She tried to smile. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
    “Don’t make me cry again, Mom, or I’ll rub my boogers all over your other shoulder.”
    “Then I’ll have a matching set.” She tried to laugh.
    I walked upstairs to my bedroom and shut the door. My overhead light was too bright for my mood, so I turned on my three pop-can lamps from junior high shop class. Each one illuminated a different color: a red bulb from the Strawberry Crush, a green