Free Hooked (Harlequin Teen) by Liz Fichera Page A

don’t know,” I said finally. “She did okay, I guess.”
    “Okay?” Seth stopped abruptly and faced me, toe to toe. I
had no choice but to stop. “She does okay, and she gets handed my spot on the team like I
don’t even matter?”
    I searched his widened eyes but said nothing. I certainly
wasn’t going to rub it in that he was the worst player on our team apart from
Henry Graser. But Henry was Principal Graser’s son.
    The problem with Seth was that he really didn’t even like
golf. He played to please his stepdad. Why, I would never understand. Seth’s
stepdad was the baddest guy I’d ever met.
    “Coach Lannon told me to go out for wrestling,” he snarled.
“Said I was built for it.”
    “Well, why don’t you?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t want to wrestle. I hate
wrestling. No one cool is on the team anyway. And I didn’t practice golf all
summer long to go out for wrestling.” Hands jammed in his front pockets, Seth
began walking again. “I still can’t believe it,” he muttered. “It reeks. It’s
not fair. And then there’s my stepdad...” His voice trailed off.
    “Was he pretty mad?” I asked carefully.
    “Way mad. The usual.” Seth shrugged as though it was no big
deal, but I knew better.
    “What’d he say?”
    Seth’s tone was flat. “He called me worthless and stupid.
Said I didn’t practice hard enough. Blah, blah, blah. You know, his usual crank.
And there’s no way I was going to tell him that I got kicked off because of a
girl. And a fucking Indian.”
    I winced. “Sorry, Seth.”
    “At least he didn’t whack me,” he added. Too casually. “He
hasn’t done that in a while.”
    I shook my head. I really wished Seth didn’t have to live
with his stepdad. But as mean as he was, his stepdad was the only father Seth
had ever known. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
    “Well, we’ve got to do something about Fred.” He spoke as if
the decision had been made.
    That stopped me cold, and the shoppers behind us practically
slammed into our heels. “Like, what are you thinking?” I chuckled doubtfully.
And what could we do? Coach Lannon’s mind was made up. Fred was all that.
    Seth continued walking, and I caught up with him as we
reached the golf store where we’d bought our golf bags last year. We stopped in
front of the display window. “I don’t know yet.” Seth sighed. “But this isn’t
over. I’ll think of something.”
    “There’s really nothing you can do.” My eyes narrowed. I
didn’t want him to get madder than he already was. “Coach was pretty clear. He
likes her. I don’t think he’ll change his mind, not this time.”
    “What if she chokes at the tournament?” Seth said. “What
then?”
    My head tilted, considering this. “Maybe,” I said, but not
too confidently. I honestly didn’t expect Fred Oday to fail, not with her swing.
Unless both of her arms were amputated by Thursday, she would probably do better
than at least half the players on the team.
    Seth’s nostrils flared. And just as I was going to open my
mouth to try to encourage Seth to go out for wrestling again, I glanced into the
golf-store display window. My teeth clamped shut. Then I mumbled, “I don’t
believe this...”
    Inside the store, Fred Oday picked up a white golf shoe and
fingered its laces. A tiny smile brightened her face. Her smile faded into a
sort of frown, a sad frown, when she turned the shoe over in her hands.
Strangely, I wondered what crossed her mind. It was just a lame shoe—and a golf
shoe. No big thing. But then she replaced the white shoe on the display, stood
back to admire it with her hands clutched behind her back, only to pick it up a
moment later like she was seeing it for the first time. Her hair fell over her
bare shoulder as her head tilted sideways, covering half her face.
    I gulped.
    “Oh, no,” Seth moaned. He drew back a breath through his
teeth. “You saw her, too?”
    I blinked and then turned to Seth. I nodded but then