Dear Jolene:

Why on earth do you want to go out with Brendon anyway? He’s kind of an idiot. Did you know he wipes his mouth with his sleeve? And he refers to his mother as his “old lady”? Who does that?

 

I hate to break it to you, but love’s not really a thing. It’s a chemical reaction—a bunch of pheromones colliding with hormones. Do you want to be a slave to your endocrine glands?

 

Research shows that the same endorphin that makes you feel like you’re in love can be found in chocolate. Do yourself a favor: BUY SOME HERSHEY’S KISSES. Less stress, less drama, and infinitely less heartache. Plus, they’re delicious.

 

I slump back in my chair and pull my hands through my hair, adjusting and readjusting my ponytail. Crap. Crappity crap, crap, crap. Why does my life have to suck so bad?

I sigh and hit “delete.”

Lindsay LaRouche could have any guy she wanted. Why in the name of all that is good and holy does it have to be Chris? And why did she have to hire me to set them up? I glare at the offending envelope lying on my desk and try to console myself: Come on, Lexi, it’s not all bad. This will be the easiest $125 you’ve ever made.

Nope. Not feeling any better.

What would it be like with the two of them together? I picture them walking down the hall holding hands. Chris whispers something into Lindsay’s ear, sending her into giggles. They stop at her locker, and Chris holds her books for her while she fools with her combination. Chris taps his left foot the way he always does when he’s waiting, letting off nervous energy. As he hands her books back, Lindsay smiles up at him, and he leans down and—

“Lexi!” Dad calls from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”

I shake my head and try to lose the visual. Before heading downstairs, I slip into the bathroom to splash some cool water on my face.

Dad made his specialty tonight—chicken stir-fry with jasmine rice. I usually devour his stir-fry, but tonight I have no appetite. I nibble at a snow pea and hope my parents won’t notice.

“Tell us about your game,” Mom says. “And how was Virginia Beach?”

I shrug. I so do not want to talk about it. Part of me wishes I could tell them what’s going on with Chris and me—or more accurately, not going on—but that’ll never happen. Mom and Dad aren’t exactly touchy-feely types. I’ve never really had a heart-to-heart with them, or even a conversation about anything too personal. Unless, of course, you count having the talk with my mom in the sixth grade, also known as the most excruciating fifteen minutes of my life.

“What’s the matter, Lexi?” Mom reaches over and feels my forehead. “You look rather pale. And your eyes are puffy.”

“I’m fine. A little tired.”

“We would have come down for the tournament if we could. You know that, don’t you? I mean, Carol’s my boss, so I couldn’t miss—”

“What?” I shake my head. “Of course, Mom. That’s not it.”

“Then what?”

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

We eat in silence for a while, but I can feel them staring. Finally, my dad clears his throat. “We kept up with the scores online. You put up some nice stats. And a nice win.”

“I did. We did.”

“Did you meet with any scouts?” Mom asks.

Speaking of things I don’t want to talk about. I shake my head and stab my fork into a mini carrot.

“I see.” Mom purses her lips. “Perhaps they didn’t want to be too pushy. I mean, most of them have already contacted—”

“Saw an interesting article the other day.” I mash the carrot into my rice. “Apparently more and more high school grads are opting out of college, or they’re taking just a few courses—the ones they actually need to get the jobs they want. Some super entrepreneurial types are starting their own businesses straight out of high school.”

“Interesting.” Dad walks over to the stove for another helping. “Can’t say I blame them.”

“For real?” I look up at him and so does mom.

“Absolutely. College is so expensive these days. Who wants to be saddled with a huge mountain of student loan debt?”

“Well, that’s true.” Mom nods in agreement and flashes a huge smile. “Thank goodness we don’t have to worry about that. You keep up with your basketball, Alexis, and we’ll be fine. You’re blessed, you know. Truly blessed.”

I shove a fork full of rice into my mouth. Bless this mess.