Read Labeled Love for Free Online

need.” I’m just trying to skate through my childhood without any major hang-ups holding me back. Frank waits for me to give him more of an answer. “I’ve been busy with school. We’ve had a lot of studying lately.”
    Lie.
    I haven’t studied at all.
    “Well, good for you, Jace. You should do well on your tests.” In a cheerful voice he adds, “It’s amazing what you can achieve when you put in the effort.”
    Not used to positive chats, I nod my head. I want to grab another bag of pretzels, but I don’t want to seem greedy when there are other kids here. When I walk away, I feel bad that I lied. It’s not that I don’t want to do well in school; it’s just that school has never come easy for me.
    I toss the empty bag into the trashcan. I know there is a football game going on out back, so I head outside. If I can’t play on a team, this is the next best thing.
    Taking off my hoodie, I throw it onto the bench next to the grass and jog out onto the field, hoping they have room for another player. I recognize most of the guys since they’re pretty much here every week. “You guys got room for me?”
    The bigger one making the calls waves me over. I look like an athlete, so I always get picked to play. Scratch that. I am athletic. Just because I’ve never played on a team doesn’t mean any of these guys are better than me. Trust me, I can run circles around most kids.

 
     
    WHEN MOM AND I pull up to the center, it reminds me of the neighborhood I saw in an old movie once about gangs, but the location is a far cry from where I spend my time. I’m used to a different… honestly… a snooty environment. Broken sidewalk entrance, graffiti-filled block walls, and just enough music blasting from the ongoing traffic paint the perfect movie-making scenario.
    I love the adventure of new places. I’m not one to shy away from change. As we get out of the car, Mom tries to talk to me about how we’re no different than others. “Mom, seriously, are we having this conversation?”
    “I just don’t want you to think we are any better than those that come here.”
    “Why would I think that? I’m not that shallow, Mom.”
    “I’m not saying you’re shallow. You’re just not used to this environment.”
    “Now you sound shallow.”
    She gives me a little smirk and says, “Touché, my girl.” I smile.
    Mom opens the doors, and I hate to admit it, but the center does smell like a dirty locker room. I won’t tell Jules that, though. Immediately, a man comes up to us, introducing himself as the director of the center. Mom starts to talk to him while I set the box of books next to her.
    “I’m going to look around,” I quietly tell her. She nods.
    I walk aimlessly through the large room. Everyone is busy, and I feel out of place. When I see double doors leading to the outside, I go up and peer out the window, noticing a bunch of boys playing football.
    Perfect.
    I walk out.

 
     
    AFTER PLAYING FOR a while, I start to feel unusually warm, so I lift the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat. I’m in the middle of our huddle when a distracting voice chimes in asking to join our game, and as we break apart, I see who’s attached to that soft voice.
    I see her.
    Wiping the sweat out of my eyes, I try to get a clear view. She’s tiny. I’d say a couple of years younger than me. She’s wearing white, ratty, barely-tied Converse, and her hair is dark brown and long. As she stands there with her hands on her hips, everyone ignores her.
    But I’m drawn to her.
    I look down at her shoes as I start walking toward her. She’s wearing a pink tank top with little flowers on it. I get closer, seeing dark curls hanging loosely down her back. Her hair looks really soft.
    I’m in front of her. I smell coconuts, reminding me of a tropical sunscreen and summer. She’s trying to look tough, or maybe it’s confidence, while I’m trying to breathe properly. The boys start teasing her about girls not playing football,