Page 38 of Tutoring the Bad Boy
Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean, MIT?”
“I mean… ” I fumble. “He told me once that MIT is his dream.”
Mom examines me like a criminal in an interrogation room. I can almost see the light of that one lamp hanging from the ceiling, swinging back and forth.
“Well, you’d be hard-pressed to find an admissions officer that would let him through those pearly gates.”
Wait a second. Is Mom saying that it’s all a lie? After dragging both of us through the mud, is she not even going to help Kaleb get into MIT? That would take the deranged deception to a whole other level. I love my mother, but do you know what’s sad? At this point, I wouldn’t put it past her. Do I call her out now or let her out herself later? Better question: do I tell Kaleb? I’ve got no proof, so I think I’ll keep it to myself for now. I go back to defending him. “I think you’ve got Kaleb all wrong. He’s a nice guy. And he’s smart.”
“Smart enough to nearly ruin his chances at anything before you came along. You know I don’t like the relationship because he isn’t good enough for you.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “And who is good enough for me?”
Mom smirks. “Boys studying to be doctors at Gilroy University.”
I can’t help but laugh. Walking over to my bed, I plop myself down and get comfortable. I have a feeling this is going to go on forever. “Can we change the subject please?”
“I’m being serious with you, Ginny. What you did tonight could possibly hurt your chances. Although, I must say that your lack of enthusiasm for Gilroy seemed to spur Coach Williams on. But in the end, universities only pursue athletes that play hard to get for so long.”
Geez. Mom’s now speaking about choosing a college like it’s a dating scenario. I don’t want the dashing, cavalier university. I want the university that’s a good kisser. One that holds my hand and not my throat.
A blush comes to my cheeks as I think about Kaleb.
Mom narrows her eyes because she can see right through me. Why do my feelings for him have to be consistently written all over my face? Now that Kaleb and I are “dating”, I feel like I should wear a bag over my head.
“Listen.” Mom sighs and sits next to me on the bed. “You did an amazing job tonight in that game. You deserve all the success you can get. But if you’re closing the door on opportunities, don’t expect them to knock that door down. You have to have willingness. You have to have a hunger, Ginny.”
Right on cue, my stomach growls. Although the vegan meatloaf did taste okay, I wasn’t able to shove much of it down. The daunting image of Coach Williams looking at me like an expensive new workout outfit in the Nike shop window was too much to bear. I could seriously use a slice of pizza right now.
How do I tell her the truth? Sure, Gilroy isn’t that bad, but I need as much distance as I can get. And what if it turns out that I don’t want to play volleyball down the line? I realize there’s no point in bringing any of this up because Mom’s just going to shut me down.
I finally tell her partially what she wants to hear. “Just let me sleep on it, okay?”
Mom brings a loving hand to my back. “Okay. But you’re still grounded.”
My mouth drops open with a huff. “Grounded? You never said I was grounded.”
“Well, I’m saying it now. Your conduct tonight was terrible. And then add to it the fact that you invited Kaleb without asking me.”
“You can’t ground me. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I’m so angry I could spit bullets right now.
Mom gets up and walks to the door. “You can go to school and volleyball practice. That’s it.”
Wait one second. Did I just hear what I thought I heard? “So you’re saying I can’t tutor Kaleb anymore?”
“I didn’t say that.” Mom turns back to me before leaving. “I just said you’re grounded.” She closes the door, and I’m left dumbfounded.
“For how long?” I call out to the door in vain.
Great. Grounded. If that means only going to school and practice, then I guess I’ve essentially been grounded my whole life. Maybe it’s time to put this dating plan into second gear. The only way Kaleb gets a chance for MIT is if he breaks my heart. He can’t do that if we only see each other at tutoring. I’ve never been downright defiant, but I’m tired. I need some freedom, and I need to do something that will get my mom’s attention. Something that will make her stop and be forced to hear what I have to say.
Picking up my phone, I stare at it as I consider texting Kaleb and telling him what happened.
Instead of texting Kaleb, I do something I should have done days ago. I text Ronnie.
Me: Ronnie, I need your help.
Ronnie responds in five seconds flat.
