Free Poser by Alison Hughes Page B

hair being cut, dyed, styled, blah, blah, blah, major national exposure with the possibility of an extended contract !” She was practically shouting. She swung around triumphantly.
    I gave her a long look (a “steely glare” in modeling speak) and walked out of the room.
    â€œWhat a grouch!” I heard Macy say to Mom. “You figure it’s hormones? It’s GOT to be hormones.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    MOM AND MACY FREAK OUT ABOUT THE HOCKEY RIGHT ON CUE (DIDN’T I PREDICT THIS?)
    I had to tell Mom and Macy about being on the hockey team. It’s not like I suddenly came to a mature decision about not lying anymore. If I could have, I would’ve let it go as long as possible. Unfortunately, I had early-morning practice the next day, and I could hardly bolt out of the house at 6:00 AM without some kind of explanation.
    We were eating dinner. Well, Macy and Mom were eating. I was pushing a watery piece of fish around islands of broccoli on my plate. Macy was ranting about some company she was fighting with. It was amazing how much food she seemed to be able to shovel in while she talked. It wasn’t pretty. Eventually, she took a breath or swallowed, and I jumped in.
    â€œHey, I’ve been wondering about something,” I began. “Did Dad play sports?”
    It wasn’t just a random question. This was a carefully planned attack.
    â€œBB, you never saw such an athlete as your dad,” said Macy, putting down her fork.
    Mom saw Macy gearing up for another long reminiscence about Big BB and quickly said, “He played basketball in high school. Volleyball too. All the tall sports.”
    â€œHow about hockey? Did he ever play hockey?”
    â€œYep. Defense,” she said. This surprised me.
    â€œHe wasn’t great at hockey though,” she laughed, remembering. “He wasn’t much of a skater. Couldn’t really stop properly. But he was big.”
    â€œHe skated beautifully ,” argued Macy, who had very likely never seen him skate, “like a...like a...” She flailed a bit, trying to think of something that skates incredibly well. “Like a PRO!” she finished triumphantly.
    Mom shrugged, smiling.
    I swallowed.
    â€œThat’s interesting,” I said loudly, “because I play hockey now too. On the school team. Defense. Just like Dad.” Strange how saying that actually made me proud.
    Mom and Macy erupted together.
    â€œYou WHAT?”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell us?”
    â€œDo you have a proper helmet?”
    â€œYour face , Beauty Boy, your beautiful FACE !” This was Macy, of course.
    Are you beginning to see why I kept it from them? I thought of breakaways and slap shots. They thought of injuries and head shots. My whole life long, the threat of an accident had put so many activities out of bounds. Like going on a trampoline, tobogganing, rock climbing, even bike riding.
    Mom saw the look on my face.
    â€œSorry, Luke. We should have said congratulations on making the team! That’s quite an accomplishment.”
    I didn’t think I needed to tell her that any breathing body made the team.
    â€œThanks, Mom. It’s only for one tournament,” I explained, “and one game against the teachers.”
    â€œThis is TOTALLY STUPID!” Macy burst out. “One puck in the face and POOF! There goes your whole modeling career! Ever thought of that, BB?”
    Oh, yes, Macy , I thought, as a matter of fact I have thought of that. I can only hope.
    â€œLook, it’s done,” I said. “Frey’s loaned me some equipment, and Chan and his dad are picking me up for early-morning practice tomorrow.” I pushed back my chair and got up. “And you know what? Even though I’m not much good, I love it! I love being on the team!”
    I ran to my room and slammed the door. Not very mature, I know, but sometimes a door-slam is very satisfying.
    * * *
    Macy cornered me in the