Free Ice by V. C. Andrews Page A

He's just a friend. He plays for us at school. He"
"Oh, I heard all that. You went and showed them you were nothing but a high-school girl. All my work and all that expense down the drain.," she moaned, rose, glared at Daddy once and then marched out of the kitchen.
I started to clean up.
"Don't worry about her." Daddy said. "She'll get over it. You did the right thing not going to that house paity. You'd a been trapped with a bunch of drunks," he said. "She knows that. too. She's just... frustrated," he added and helped pick up the pieces of Mama's broken dish.
This was my fault. I thought.
I should have just insisted on not going out.
I should have stayed home and not tried to be Mama.
Balwin called again in the early afternoon to tell me he had spoken with Mr. Glenn and Mr. Glenn had told him the Senetsky School was so special only a half-dozen new students get in it a year.
"It's not just a school. You live there and she teaches you how to handle the entertainment world, how to behave, dress. act-- everything. Her graduates are all in Broadway shows or in television and film. As soon as you graduate, her son becomes your agent, and he's a very successful agent. It's the closest thing to a guaranteed successful ride into show business, whether you act, sing, dance, play instruments, anything she thinks shows real talent. You've got to do this. Ice. You've just got to give it a shot. I'll help you," Baiwin added.
"I don't know," I said still trembling from the battle Daddy and Mama had in the morning because of me. The house had become a tomb-- no one speaking, no music, barely any movement. Daddy sat in the living room rereading the same newspaper and Mama was lying down, a wet cloth over her forehead. fuming. I was afraid to make a sound. I was practically whispering on the phone.
"Something wrong?" Balwin asked.
"No," I said quickly.
"Well. I know this sounds like short notice, but why don't you come on over and we'll tinker around with some possible pieces you could use."
I didn't respond.
"You know where I live, right?"
"No," I said.
He rattled off the address and then added directions.
"It's only about a ten-minute walk from where you are," he concluded.
Balwin lived in a nice neighborhood. I had been down that street before. but I didn't know anyone who lived there, until now.
The night before he had told me a lot about himself, His parents were both professionals. His father was an accountant and his mother was a dental hygienist. Like me, he was an only child. He was about twenty pounds or so overweight for his five foot ten inch frame, but he had a nice face with kind, intelligent black eyes and firm, straight lips. He was definitely the best-dressed boy in school and was often kidded about his wearing dress slacks and a nice shirt. They called him Mr. Noble. making "Mister" sound like a dirty word. Some of our teachers called him Mr. Noble, too, but they weren't teasing him. They were showing him respect because he was a good student, polite and very ambitious.
"Okay," I decided quickly."I'll be there."
"Great. This is going to be fun," he said and hung up before I could even think of changing my mind. It brought a smile to my face, which had become like a desert when it came to smiles these days.
I put on my jacket and called to Mama and Daddy from the doorway.
"I'm going out for a while." I shouted.
"Bring back a carton of milk," Mama screamed back at me.
"Okay," I said.
I knew they both assumed I was just going for my usual walk around the block or maybe past some of the stores to look in the windows.
It was a cool, gray day with some wind. Spring was having a hard time getting itself a foothold this year. Winter just seemed to be stubborn, refusing to be driven off. We had had flurries in early April and only one day more than seventy degrees. Today it was in the low fifties. People walked quickly, some re netted not wearing their heavier coats and hats. The weather made them any, as angry as people who had