Tutoring the Quarterback - Sample

Chapter Two

Brooks

"Where are we selling tonight?" I ask Mom as soon as she pulls the car away from our house.

"The food truck and your father are near the new nightclub," Mom replies without taking her eyes off the road.

"What nightclub?" I continue, curious.

"I don't remember its name, but it's the one where the rich people go to," clarifies Mom.

"Flaming Diamonds," my little brother Benji says from the back seat.

"How do you know that?" I instantly turn to face the living terror who carries a way more successful social life than I do, even though I am seventeen and he is twelve.

"Everyone but you know about that place," he mocks, pointing at me. "You do not because your only friends are your boyfriend and Mackenzie."

"Ryan is not my boyfriend," I hiss, narrowing my eyes.

"Why did he sleep at our house last Saturday night, then?" Mom arches an eyebrow—she doesn't look mad, but she doesn't look thrilled either.

I immediately blush at the knowledge of my mother perceiving my adventure with Ryan.

"You need to control your daughter, Karen," Benji smirks, laughing out loud.

"Don't call me Karen, Benjamin." Mom glares daggers at the boy through the rearview mirror. "We've talked about this already."

"I'm sorry, Mom," my brother apologizes in a low voice, but I know he is faking it.

"How was your day?" Mom brings her attention back to me. Thankfully, she spares me from the awkward conversation about safe sex and not letting a boy abuse me. I believe that my brother's presence has something to do with it.

"It was normal." I shrug. "I'm trying to find students to tutor so that I can earn extra money and help you and Dad finish paying for the truck."

"I appreciate your intentions, sweetie, but you are helping us enough. Rather than worrying about us, you should focus on your studies and secure a spot at your dream university."

"I know, Mom, but I want to do more because I know that you and Dad are struggling to pay the bills, the truck, and the rent, and I want to help you in every way I can." I give her a reassuring smile.

"Look, it's Dad," Benji exclaims, pointing at the family's food truck—Bumps Burger.

My mom parks the old car nearby, and we immediately jump off and head straight to my dad, who is already too busy attending to the hungry customers and grilling the burgers.

"Oh, thank God you have arrived," Dad declares as soon as Mom, Benji, and I step into the truck, a thankful smile playing on his lips. "Brook, can you please take the customers' orders while your mom and I grill the burgers?"

I nod in response and position myself in front of the cashier's window.

"What about me?" pouts Benji.

"You should sit and finish doing your homework, young man." Mom narrows her brown eyes at my brother, who scowls while sitting on the driver's seat and opening one of his books.

The next hour goes by with many hungry and smashed partygoers eager to put something edible inside their drunk stomachs so that they can throw up some food mixed with alcohol later tonight. Apparently, the nightclub is currently one of the hottest spots in Seattle, which doesn't surprise me, considering that only the A-list is allowed to enjoy it, whereas we, the commoners, get to watch it from the outside.