Read Bright Before Sunrise for Free Online Page B

of What-do-I-do-with-my-teen? books.
    I roll my eyes as she reaches out and touches my hair—ruffling it and then smoothing it back into place.
    “You need a haircut.”
    “Yeah, I know.” I used to keep it short so it didn’t get in my way on the diamond, but now that I’m not playing, I can’t be bothered.
    “I miss seeing you, bud. You’re always running off to Hamilton or you’re locked in your room.”
    I open my mouth to say “then you shouldn’t have moved,” but what comes out is, “Miss you too.”
    “Do your Sox play this weekend? Now that we get every channel known to man, I’m sure we get all their games. Want to order Chinese and watch? I’ll get Paul to take the baby to the park so it’s just you and me. It’ll be like old times.”
    I want to give in—except it won’t be like old times. Dad won’t be there to spill popcorn whenever a batter strikes out, and Mom will pay more attention to whether or not I’m using a coaster than to the lineup.
    I should say no, but her eyes are pleading. “Maybe.”
    “Good.” She smiles. “Sophia looks so comfortable with you.”
    “She’s pretty cute,” I admit.
    “Am I making you late?” Mom asks.
    “I’ve got a few minutes.” I don’t remember the last time Mom and I had a conversation that didn’t include her telling me everything I’m doing wrong. I can be a few minutes late to see Carly if it means prolonging this. I give Sophia a gentle squeeze; maybe I’ll put her in the swing after all. Then I’ll talk Mom into making her famous nachos while we catch up.
    “If you’ve got some time, you don’t mind if I just duck out for my manicure, do you?”
    “What?” I freeze halfway to the swing and spin around to face her.
    “I won’t be long. Paul should be home any second. He’s running late because one of his clients needed a last-minute appointment before a race tomorrow.”
    She says this with such expectation. All my nostalgia and goodwill vanish. None of it was real.
    “What the hell? Are you kidding me?” This time I’m not swearing for her amusement, but she pretends not to notice.
    “Come on, Jonah. I’ll give you gas money.” She reaches inside her purse and pulls out her wallet, looking at the bills instead of me. “Forty dollars for twenty minutes? Sound good?”
    The way she holds out the cash is like she’s daring me to protest. And I could use the money. Back in Hamilton, I had a job, but Mom and Paul made me quit when we moved so I could “focus on school work and making friends.” Now, if I need money, I’m supposed to “ask Paul.” I don’t even like asking him to pass the salt; I’m not going to beg for handouts.
    I take the cash.
    “Will you make me nachos?” The question is a fragment of the conversation I thought we might have, and it slips out in a sulky voice.
    She’s already putting her wallet away, leaning down to kiss Sophia on the forehead. “Right now? I’m on my way out.”
    “What about for the game?”
    “The game?” Either she’s distracted by locating her keys on their hook, or she’s already forgotten.
    “The Sox game?” I prompt.
    She pauses. “Right. Sorry. I really want to do that, Jonah. We’ll find a time and, yes, I will make you a huge plate of nachos.” She reaches for my hair
again
. I shift out of her reach. “Did I already tell you to say hi to Carly for us?”
    I nod. She tosses a hasty “thank you” in my direction and shuts the door to the garage behind her.
    Carly’s first impatient text arrives ten minutes later. Where R U?
    Haven’t left yet. Soon. It’d better be soon. Paul better be home soon like Mom promised.
    My phone beeps again and I hope for a teasing pout-faced picture or a tempting: If u were here right now …
    For the first couple of months after the move my phone never stopped beeping. She flooded it with I MISS U messages and updates about everything/everyone. But lately they haven’t been as frequent or friendly.
    I click on her