Free Dex by Sheri Lynn Fishbach Page A

Why?” Alicia asked.
     
     
    “Uh...’cause I need money.” Dex got a small bottle of vegetable oil from the pantry.
     
    “Can’t you just ask Dad?”
     
    “I need more than that.”
     
    “For what?”
     
    “Nothing. I’m just saving up.”  Couldn’t she just shut up and leave him alone? Suddenly he missed having mornings all to himself. He began greasing and flouring cookie sheets hoping she would figure out he was too busy to talk.
     
    “You’re not going to tell me?” Alicia went to the refrigerator and nearly tripped over the wheelbarrow. “What’s this thing in here for?”
     
    “I just told you. I make lunches. That’s how I get them outside.”
     
    “Okay, I guess. I’m not usually up this early.” She kicked the wheelbarrow out of her way with a light tap.  “So I’ll ask you again, why do you need all this money? Why is it such a big secret?”
     
    Alicia slammed the juice on the counter. “Oh my God! Dex, are you doing drugs?” She was near tears. “Because if that’s why you need money, I’ll kill you way before they will.”
     
    “Leesh, did you leave your brain in L.A.?” Dex handed her a juice glass. “No. The closest I’ve come to doing drugs is sitting with Kyle when he’s popping Tums, which he says taste like moldy chalk. But thanks for thinking I’m that dumb.”
     
    “I’m sorry. Of course you wouldn’t be that stupid.” She poured herself a glass of juice. “I’ve got it. You’re finally getting that ice cream machine you always wanted for your bedroom.”
     
    “That’s not it either.” Dex was rolling the dough he prepared into small round balls about the size of a walnut and was placing each on the pans.
     
    “When I was your age,” Alicia recalled, “I was babysitting for a nose job.”
     
    “Must’ve been a scary-looking baby.”
     
    “For my face, genius.”
     
    “Guess you didn’t find enough kids to watch.” Dex laughed earning what he thought was the upper hand in this match.
     
    “Shut up, Dex-lax.”
     
    “Go away,” Dex finally said, “you’re making me late.” He put two pans in the oven.
     
    “I don’t get it. I thought you could tell me anything,” Alicia sighed.
     
    “Oh fine, just don’t tell anyone or I’ll post videos of you snoring on YouTube.” Dex took a deep breath. “You know those infomercials for the Gymbuff 2000?”
     
    “Uh huh. The guy looks like ‘The Terminator’ on steroids.”
     
    “Right--”
     
    “What- you think you’re too skinny or something?”
     
    “Well, look at me.” Dex turned around in a slow circle.
     
    “Dex, you’re twelve. You look fine. I’d even say you’re cute.”
                 
    “Thanks, but I don’t want to look fine or cute. I want to look like the guy everyone chooses first in gym. I’m sick of people feeling like they have to hold me down when it gets windy.”
     
    “Dex, I’ve seen guys smaller than you.”
     
    “Maybe, but yesterday when I was climbing the ropes, I almost lost my shorts. The girl next to me was practically talking to my butt. And she’ll never like me.” Dex kicked the garbage pail. “Because her boyfriend is a wrestler. And I can never be a wrestler because no matter how hard I try, I can’t make weight.” He shoveled down a huge cookie letting chunks overflow from his mouth.
     
    “I’m a loser,” Dex moped. “Most of the time no one even notices me because they don’t see me there.” He checked the oven. “But that’s gonna change. I’m getting the Gymbuff even if it costs as much as a car. I have to.”
     
    Alicia gave Dex a small but consoling hug.  “I had no clue. I’m sorry. Can I help?”
     
    “Not really, but you can spread some aioli on that ciabatta .”
     
    “So...what are we making?” Alicia took an approving lick of the spread.
     
    “Sandwiches for my regulars. But, I’m always trying out new stuff, like this.” He pointed to an interesting pile of meat, cheese,