Fake Me To Church

Twelve Years Ago

Part Two

"Mom, you're joking, right? I'm pretty sure I've been to operas more entertaining." Lane crossed her arms as she stared back at her mother across the breakfast table.

"Lane, stop whining," Mrs. Martin chided as she poured milk into a bowl of cereal. "Madam Caroline only has two of these women's retreats every year, and you're going to go! A lot of the young girls look up to her, and she was kind enough to invite the two of us. It'll be a great opportunity for you to get to know some of the ladies at the church."

"Oh, please," Lane spat. "You can hardly call those old maids 'ladies,' Mom. Isn't Madam Caroline like eighty years old by now?"

Her mother glared at her. "She's thirty-four, Lane."

"In what? Dog years?"

"Lane Martin!"

"I'm just saying, Mom. Sitting around knitting with a bunch of has-beens wearing extensions doesn't sound—"

Mrs. Martin held up her hand for silence. "You're going to the retreat, and that's that. Now finish your cereal. School starts in thirty minutes."

"Oh, come on! Haven't you ever read any of her dumb articles in The EdgeWay Press? Madam Caroline is nothing but a—what was the word Pastor Hall used in his sermon last week?—a busybody! That's it! That's a Bible word, Mom! See? Even Jesus doesn't think what she's doing is good, and He loves everybody!"

"Lane..." Mrs. Martin sighed.

"Madam Caroline's a stupid busybody who'll talk my ear off all weekend! Are you seriously gonna make me spend the next three days playing bingo with a bunch of cat ladies who've already started meno—"

"ENOUGH!" Lane's mother finally screamed. "Do you ever get tired of whining like a pretentious five-year-old!?" She exhaled heavily and rested her forehead in her palm, exhausted. "I'm picking you up after school. The retreat starts at four, and I won't hear another word about it, Lane."

****

"I hate her. She's such a b—"

"Lane," GiGi interrupted, "Don't say that. Even if she is a jerk sometimes, she's still your mom..."

"GiGi, I don't care! Don't you know what tonight is?" Lane pouted as the two girls walked into the cafeteria together, the bell signaling lunchtime having just rung.

"How could I forget? You remind me every thirty minutes..."

"My mom can't do this to me!" Lane raged on as if GiGi hadn't spoken at all. "Tonight's the first basketball game of the season, and she wants me to spend it blabbering on with some wannabe Gossip Girl. I can't believe this! Sam is literally going to be the first one on the court, and I'm missing it!"

GiGi paused. "Wait, how do you know that? The part about Sam, I mean. I thought the starting lineup was top secret."

"He told me yesterday," Lane beamed. "I just happened to be by the gym after they finished practice, and Irina just happened to be with me..."

GiGi giggled. "You used my little sister as bait for Sam Irish?" she joked. "Isn't that a new low?"

"It's not like I kidnapped her." Lane waved her hand. "I bribed her—big difference."

GiGi rolled her eyes, laughing. "Let me guess. You bought her tropical skittles again?"

"You know me too well," Lane smiled at her briefly, then started pouting again.