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believe that Brett
and I are dating, even though we aren't?
    "I don't know." I hedge. "With all the
cousins there, it might scare him off."
    "When will you go out again?" she
asks.
    I don't like lying to her,
so I try a distraction. "We'll see each other in school." If I can't avoid him .
"But we've got the tournament starting Thursday, so not this
weekend."
    Her face shuts down at the mention of
the competition. "You have to compete again?"
    "I won last year," I remind her. Not
that she came to watch me. She wants me to be a girly girl, but I
can’t be someone I’m not, not even to please my mother. I'm a
Chaser, even if she doesn't want me to be. Seven more
days…
    "So you shouldn't need to compete again
this year. Go out on top and all that."
    I bite back a sigh. "Mom..." She
doesn't get it. Martial arts has kept me grounded since dad died.
It's the only thing that keeps me connected to him. "I like it," I
finish lamely. "And I'm going to the tournament."
    She frowns. "Your party starts at
eight. You'll need to be ready early to greet people. Which means
I'll need you here at five to dress."
    Three hours to dress for the party.
That seems excessive.
    "The final round is Saturday
afternoon," I tell her. "If I make the finals, will you
come?"
    Her eyes darken. "I don't know,
sweetie. I'll be finishing all the preparations for your
party."
    It's your
party , I want to say.
    But I don't. At this point, I'm
desperate to fight in the tournament and scared to say or do
anything that might tempt her to stop me.
    It's a blatant reminder how different
we are. She cares more about the party and keeping up appearances
for her friends than about me. The fighting—that’s not something
she can show off to her friends. In fact, if anything, it
embarrasses her.
    Part of me wishes I could tell her
about what happened this afternoon. We could've died, but we won.
We beat them. I beat them.
    But I don't dare.
    I hate it that my own mom doesn't
really know me or care about what's important to me.
    I wish my dad were still here. He was
like the glue that kept mom and me—so different—stuck together.
Like a family should be.
    Now, we're just two strangers who live
in the same house.

 
     
    8 - Brett
    "So, you kissed me
yesterday."
    I slide into the lunchroom chair next
to Emily, hoping my smile covers my wince of pain. Even that simple
movement feels like knives through my joints.
    She shushes me, looking around
frantically. I'm guessing to make sure no one heard me.
Ouch.
    But no one is paying attention to
us.
    I shift, try to find some way to
alleviate the discomfort in my knees. I could go to the school
nurse for another pain pill, but I don't want to. I can bear
it.
    I was right yesterday. My adrenaline
crashed on my way back from Emily's, and by the time I got home, I
had to pry my hands off the handlebars to hobble inside.
    I crashed, overslept, and missed my
first two classes. My doctors and parents have communicated enough
with the school that my teachers understand, but it makes me mad
every time I have to make up work or miss something important
because of my condition.
    What I wouldn't give to be a normal
guy.
    I lean back in my seat, changing
positions again to try and get some relief. I throw my arm over the
back of Emily's chair to cover the move.
    She glares at me, and I smack an air
kiss at her. "Ready to repeat?"
    It's so easy to rile her up.
    But she doesn't smack me with an elbow
in the gut like I expect. She turns red and goes back to her lunch,
stuffing food in her mouth.
    Interesting.
    "Erick!" Her quick exclamation gushes
with relief as her cousin plops into the seat across from
her.
    He raises an eyebrow at me, a silent
question, but I shake my head minutely. I may have made an inch of
progress with Emily yesterday, but if he verbalizes anything, I'm
toast. I know her enough to get that.
    "What happened yesterday, man?" I
ask.
    He looks exhausted. Shadows under his
eyes like he didn't sleep much.
    "Cops came."