Free Hooked (Harlequin Teen) by Liz Fichera

nodded to a Gap store next to my favorite golf-goods store.
I’d been in the golf store a few times with Dad but never to buy anything, only
to look. And dream.
    Mom’s eyes followed mine. She let out a long exhale. “You
didn’t drag me all the way out to this godforsaken place to look at golf clubs,
did you? When I could be home with my feet propped up enjoying a cold beer?”
    I cringed at her loud tone. “Already got clubs,” I said softly.
Nonchalantly, my eyes trailed across the display window. A silver ladder with
women’s golf shoes perched on each step filled the corner, and my eyes beaded on
a white leather pair with soft pink piping around the laces. I sucked back a
breath through my lips. Those shoes matched my golf glove. I just had to take a
closer look.
    “Freddy...” Mom’s voice ratcheted up another notch. “A pair of
shorts is why we’re here, remember?”
    “Yep, I know. But I just need to look at something for a
second. Please? I’ll be back outside before you know it. Promise.”
    Mom’s lips sputtered. “Okay, okay. But only a minute. I’ll be
in here.” She nodded toward the Gap. “I’ll start looking for the clothes on
sale, but if you’re not inside this store in five minutes, we’re leaving.
Anyway, I think I’m getting a migraine.” Her eyebrows pulled together.
    I nodded. “I’ll only be gone a minute.” I glanced again at the
golf shoes, half expecting giant hands to swoop them off the display before my
very eyes.
    “How much money you got?”
    “Probably enough for two pairs of shorts,” I said. “That’s all
I need.”
    “Good, because I sure as hell didn’t bring any.” Mom’s
shoulders shrugged, and then she turned for the other store. “At least it’s less
crowded in here,” she muttered as she walked away. “And there’s a chair!”
    I spun on the balls of my feet and darted inside the golf store
while Mom trotted off to nab the chair. I rushed to the shoe section to find the
white pair with the pink piping. My eyes landed on the price tag: $110.
    I sighed.
    It might as well have said one million.
    My fingers brushed the soft laces. I’d need a few more weekends
at the Wild Horse Restaurant to afford them, if the chef allowed me back at
all.

Chapter 10
Ryan
    SETH AND I DROVE
TO THE mall off the I-10 freeway. I’d picked him up at his house
after golf practice, and we’d gone to mine. But chilling at the mall was way
better than hanging around the house and listening to Mom nag about homework
that bored me and college entrance exams that I didn’t want to take. Seth felt
the same way. It was one of a million things we had in common.
    I’d lied and told Mom that I already signed up for the SATs,
just so that I could get out of the house. Fortunately, she’d bought it. I
should feel guilty about lying to her all the time, but I didn’t. Not really
anyway. Maybe because the more I lied, the easier it got.
    Seth only wanted to hang because he wanted to hear all about
Fred. I was going to have to lie to him, too. The truth would only crank
him.
    “Movie?” Seth asked me as we passed through the food
court.
    “Maybe.”
    “What, then?” Seth stuffed his hands in his front
pockets.
    My shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Let’s just walk
around.”
    We started on the first floor and walked to the south end of
the mall.
    “So Zack texted me after practice and said the Indian wasn’t
so bad.”
    I cringed a little when he said Indian and kind of looked
around to see if anyone had overheard. Seth hated Native Americans, all of them,
mostly because a drunk one had killed his real dad when he was driving home from
work one night on the freeway. Hit him head-on. It had happened when Seth was a
baby. He knew his real dad only from pictures.
    I didn’t answer him. But Seth wouldn’t let it go. “Well,
what do you think?” he said. “Is she as good as Coach thinks?”
    I considered it as if I really hadn’t given Fred much
thought. “I