Page 74 of The Midseason Fakeout

She doesn’t have to voice her disapproval. It’s written in the long pause and all over her tone when she says, “Isn’t it a bit early to have visitors?”

I try to slow my beating heart, racking my brain for an excuse. I can’t tell her I lost my virginity to my fake boyfriend—Actually, scratch that. Aidan and I are much more than that, but regardless, I’m not going to tell her I lost my virginity at all. She’d probably run to pick me up at this very moment. “He and Darrin went for a run this morning. I’m about to make them breakfast. That’s why I couldn’t come to the phone.”

“You’re going to make breakfast?” she asks coldly.

“Yeah, I enjoy it. Who knew?”

“Hmm.”

“What’s up, Mom?” I ask. She hasn’t called me the whole time I’ve been at Warner’s and suddenly, here she is.

“What’s up?” She dissects the words like she doesn’t understand them. “I’m checking in. Your dad and I saw you and Darrin on TV last night. What an interesting choice of attire.”

I peer up at Aidan and roll my eyes. Inside, however, my stomach is churning. My mom has a way of making me feel small in as few words as possible. “It was a football game. We were dressed for the occasion.”

Aidan tilts his head like he really wants to know what we’re saying, but I turn away. I can’t talk to my mom while he’s staring at me like that.

“I see,” she says. “Was that marker on your face?”

“Paint.”

“Hmm.”

I want to lash out. I want to ask her what the big freaking deal is. Most everyone at the game looked just like me—but of course, she saw that. She saw that and she didn’t like it.

“Did you watch the whole thing? Aidan had a great game.”

“No, your father and I had better things to do.”

My fingers on the phone squeeze harder as I sit silently. I need to ask Darrin if he got the third degree about the game, too. Probably not. “Well, if that’s all,” I finally prompt.

“Actually, no. I was calling because there’s a soirée you’re requested to attend later today.”

I put my finger over the speaker and turn toward Aidan. “What time is the Step-Up thing today?”

“One.”

While he’s answering, my mother says, “What’s that, Bailey? You were muffled.”

“Mom, I’ve got plans at one today.”

“That’s when the luncheon is.”

I take a deep breath. “You’ll have to make my apologies.”

“Bailey Covington. We did not raise you to cancel plans at the last minute.”

“Exactly, and the only plan I made is the one for the Step-Up Foundation. It’s for a good cause. A charity. Aidan and I are helping raise money for this organization that his coach’s wife is involved in.” I don’t tell her anything about the competition. She wouldn’t understand. She would especially hate something like Aidan and me wearing matching T-shirts.

“That sounds nice, but I RSVP’d us for this luncheon months ago, Bailey.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

A firm hand settles on my shoulder. I peek up, and Aidan is mouthing to me that I can go to the luncheon, but I shake my head. There’s no way.

“Maybe Darrin can go with you. Or Dad.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for quite some time. It takes everything I have not to fill it with an apology or inform her to forget everything I just said and that I’ll go, but Aidan is counting on me.

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