At the end of my MASH, I am married to Jimmy Schmidt, the class clown, and drive a minivan around Alaska with only one child. Not even close to my best life. I throw my binder on the bench in front of me, leaning back to enjoy the sunshine.
“Let’s do it again,” Mackenna says eagerly.
“No, I’m tired. Let’s just relax.” I don’t open my eyes. I want to empty my mind and enjoy the peace, knowing it will end when Jack and I go home.
“You go ahead and relax; I am going to play some football.” Mackenna walks down the bleachers over to Bryan, Trent, and the other boys.
I open one eye, peering down at her. I am jealous of her confidence. She just walks right up to the guys, grabs the football from Trent, and throws it to Bryan. The boys seem annoyed that she is interrupting their game but they let her join in. I see Trent trying to show her how to throw a football, but she just pushes him away and takes the ball again. I love that girl.
About fifteen minutes later, Mackenna comes running up the stairs and grabs her bag. Practice is over and the football team is making their way to the gates that enclose the field.
“Move your asses, Littles,” Trent’s brother Doug yells over to us. All the latchkey younger siblings are called “the Littles”. MacKenna is ‘Little Ross’, Trent is ‘Little Basso’, Bryan is ‘Little Edwards’, and I’m ‘Little Jennings’.
None of us say anything as we venture down to the end of the gates to meet our older siblings.
“Let’s go Mad; we’re going over to the Basso’s for dinner,” Jack says, motioning for me to hurry up.
“I’ll be right there.” I hold up my finger and give Mackenna a hug, even though I will probably talk to her in a couple of hours. I walk over to where Jack is already climbing into his Mustang, and see that Doug and Trent are already waiting for me. Doug pushes the front seat forward so I can climb in the back next to Trent.
“Hey, Maddy,” Trent says, turning his head to stare out the window.
“Hi, Trent,” I respond, staring out of my own window. That pretty much sums up our friendship lately. I have tried to figure out what happened to us but have come up with nothing.
We arrive at the Basso’s ten minutes later. They live on the outskirts of town and have acres of land with horses. Their house has a wraparound porch with flower baskets hanging out of every opening. It looks like something out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. As the Mustang comes to a stop at the top of their gravel driveway, their yellow lab greets us the second we open the door.
I bend down, letting Dixon climb on me while I pet him with both of my hands. I stand up and Dixon follows me to the front porch and into the house. I know this house as well as my own, since I have probably eaten dinner here more than mine. As soon as we walk in, Trent goes up the stairs to his room, Jack and Doug head to the basement to play pool, and I venture into the kitchen.
“I was wondering when you guys were going to get here,” Mrs. Basso says to me over her shoulder while she prepares dinner.
I sit on the stool at the breakfast bar, taking out my homework. “Hi, Mrs. Basso. Thank you for having us for dinner.” I am grateful that I didn’t have to make it myself tonight.
“Oh Maddy, you are always welcome. You know that.” Mrs. Basso turns around, smiling at me. She is the epitome of the perfect mom. She works at the local library, always has dinner on the table for her husband and boys, and she volunteers for all of the school functions and fundraisers.
“I know,” I say, and then begin to focus on my homework.
I am able to finish all of my homework while Mrs. Basso finishes dinner, humming to herself. She is always happy. I wonder what she knows that my mom doesn’t.
“Dinner, boys!” Mrs. Basso calls, taking out her ponytail and shaking her golden blond hair back and forth. She is a beautiful woman and doesn’t look her age at all.
Four boys come running in while I am setting out the plates and silverware.
“Hey, Madgirl. Long time no see,” Trent’s older brother, Gabe, says as he messes with my hair.
“Hi, Gabe,” I softly say. Gabe is fourteen and is a freshman at the high school. He doesn’t have to wait for Doug at practices because he is old enough to come home by himself.
“Where’s dad?” Doug asks, while stealing a roll out of the basket and devouring it. I can’t imagine how much food they must go through in this house with three boys.
I wonder why Mrs. Basso stays at home when her husband isn’t around. Not like my mom, who is gone as soon as my dad leaves town for a couple of days. They couldn’t be more different.
We eat the chicken and rice with broccoli, while the three older boys fight over the food. Trent is quiet, never looking up from his plate. I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much? After dinner, Jack says that he wants to play one more game, so I go into the family room to watch television. Trent and Gabe are already in there. I decide to sit down on the opposite end of the couch as Trent. A couple of minutes later, Gabe leaves, mumbling something about homework.
I take this as my chance to find out what Trent’s problem is and why he is so set on ignoring me lately.
“So, you like Kenna?” I ask, not turning my head from the television.
“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug.
“You don’t know? Well, why did you ask Evan to ask me to ask her then?” I ask, looking at him out of the corner of my eye to try and read his expression.
He sighs and says, “I wanted to see what you would say.”
“What do you mean? If you like her, go ahead and ask her out,” I say, even though my heart is screaming at me to say something else.
“I don’t like Kenna.” He moves closer to me on the couch. I am totally confused by this boy.
“Then why did you have Evan ask me that?” I repeat, turning to face him on the couch. We have been friends since we were in diapers. Why is everything so awkward now?
“I wanted to see if you would be jealous,” he says quietly, taking my hand and entwining our fingers.
“Did you get the reaction you wanted?” I ask, not removing my hand with his.
“No, I thought you liked me. Am I wrong?” He is staring at me now, his crystal blue eyes boring into mine. I couldn’t look away if I tried.
“You are right, I do like you.” I bite my lower lip, unsure of what happens now.
“I like you too,” Trent whispers and turns around to watch television, never letting go of my hand.
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The Perfect Distraction (Volume 1) Page 24
