Dark Horse

Phish Food and the Price of Ten Bucks

"Dude, you know Mason's number? Phone book hasn't come out yet," I hear Alex's relaxed tone from the other end of the phone. There's muffled yelling in the background.
"Alex, where are you and where did you get my number?" I demanded.
"Oh, I'm hiding in the boys locker room at soccer practice. Coach Reynolds just yells the whole time," he pauses. "Um, what was the other question?"
"How did you get my number?"
"Oh, my mom's on the PTO with your mom,"
I seriously need to tell my mom to stop making friends with people on the PTO.
"Okay..." I say, trying to somewhat help the awkward silence.
"So give me Mason's number? Please?"
"Sure, let me go get it."
"Ha!" I hear Mason hoot from the phone. "I knew it! I knew it!"
"Oh, shut up," I hear a girl's voice say.
Courtney?
"You owe me ten bucks!" I hear Alex's triumphant voice. "Hand it over."
"Whatever."
"Wait, I thought you said you were at soccer practice," I say, interrupting Alex's cries of victory.
"We are," Courtney says, "I also happen to have cheerleading at the same time too."
"So...you bet on whether I would have Mason's number?"
Courtney giggles. "I totally knew he liked you, I just didn't think he had the guts to ask like you out."
Thanks, Courtney.
"So, has he kissed you yet?"
"What?"
"He totally has!" Courtney squealed.
"Bye, guys," I say, trying to shut this down as quickly as possible.
"Wait, Sophie!" Alex yells as I'm about or hit the end button.
"Yes?"
"He told me he really likes you,"
I go to sleep smiling.

"What's the angle of ABC?" Mrs. Zandoff asks the next day. A boy named Andrew snores at the back of the class. Mrs. Zandoff slams a math textbook on the table. Andrew jolts awake.
"Anyone?" she calls out to the class. "C'mon guys, this will be on the test," she says, hoping to get some kind of reaction.
"Miss Tarachild, could you-" the phone rings. You could practically hear everyone in our class thinking the same thing: please be me, please be me.
Mrs. Zandoff nods into the phone then looks straight at me and points a finger at the door. Envious glares are shot my way.
"Gather your stuff and go to the office," Mrs. Zandoff says, then returns to the struggle of sixth period math.

"Hey, Sweetie," my mom says as I walk into the office. Oh no. She signs me out and waves to Miss Debbie.
"Mom, who died?" I whisper as soon as we walk outside. Instead, she gives me a hug. "Mom, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she says. "I just realized you're growing up so fast and I realized we should go do something together."
"That's why you took me out of school?"
She nods. "I know, I know. I'm a bad mom. But I just want to spend some time with my baby before she goes off to college." She hugs me so tight I can't breathe.
"Mom...please," I manage to squeak out.
"Oh, sorry," she says, stepping back. "Why don't we go get some ice cream?"
Well, it's not like I'll ever say no to ice cream.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" I say, scraping the last of Phish Food out of the container.
"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking we could walk around-"
"Mom, I know you want to talk about something."
She smiled. "I heard you and that nice boy from dinner are going out."
"Mason?"
"Yeah, he's a nice boy, I just think..."
"What?"
"I don't know, I guess I'm just glad you're happy again."
"Me too, mom. I really am."