Free Busted by Antony John Page B

smoke a pack a day to keep their weight down, so I’m trying to catch up.”
    â€œBut you do cheerleading. Doesn’t that keep your weight down?”
    â€œScrew cheerleading. I’m only in it ’cause the baseball final will be televised, and that’s when I’ll be spotted by a talent agency.”
    Huh. Vacuous and conniving. Cool.
    â€œSo what’s with the patch?” I ask, pointing to the square on her arm.
    Paige glances at it. “Oh, my dad got upset when he found out I smoke. I wear this so he knows I’m really trying to quit.” She doesn’t seem terribly bothered by the duplicity.
    The waiter reappears with Paige’s box. She conjures a sad face for me, bites her lip remorsefully, then leans over and plants another moist kiss on my lips. By the time she leaves, I almost don’t mind her going. I’ve got just about everything I could ever have hoped for from a first date.
    Even the check seems like a small price to pay for such wild success.

13
    L u ckily Mom stays late at work, so I don’t have to explain why I’m home so soon. Her absence also gives me a chance to use the computer to conduct some quick Web research.
    Measurements Jessica Alba .
    Google announces a number of useful hits, and moments later I’m jotting down incredibly private information about Jessica Alba. I don’t exactly know how the site got hold of the figures—I can’t imagine Jessica Alba volunteered them—but there they are, big and bold: 34B-24-34.
    Mom’s always telling me what a wonderful educational resource the Internet is, but until now I can’t say I believed her. I scan the list of other famous actresses whose figures are listed; there are even revealing photographs of some of them conveniently located just a click away.
    I click.
    This may be the most momentous evening of my life. I’m already imagining the next Rituals meeting, contemplating how I’ll present my findings to the guys. I even start to wonder if they’ll kneel down before me, which is probably why I don’t hear the door opening—
    â€œHi, honey. How’d it go tonight?”
    I try to close the photograph as soon as it begins to emerge, but a little disk is floating around telling me the computer is occupied.
    â€œHoney?”
    â€œIt w-was fine,” I say, or attempt to say; it comes out garbled on account of the fact that a naked woman is gradually being revealed on the computer screen.
    â€œSo what exactly were you doing tonight?” asks—
    â€œAbby!” I gasp, spinning around. “What are you doing here?”
    Abby points at the monitor. “What’s that?”
    I look back at the screen, but thankfully the computer has decided it actually has time to close the window after all. “Nothing. Nothing at all,” I say, wiping sweat off my forehead.
    Abby shrugs. “So you were going to tell me what you were doing tonight.”
    I look at Mom. “I, er, had a meeting.”
    Mom raises her eyebrows but leaves without contradicting me. Abby watches her go, then closes the door softly.
    â€œSo listen, I just wanted to come around to ask, well, you know … how it went.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œOh, come on. I know who you met with today.”
    I swallow hard. “You do?”
    â€œYeah, I do … Don’t act so surprised. It’s not exactly a secret.”
    â€œIt isn’t?”
    â€œNo, you twit, it isn’t. So, go on, did you do it?”
    â€œDid I wha t !? ” I can feel myself go bright red, and suddenly I really don’t want to be here having this conversation with Abby.
    â€œDid you, you know … do it?” repeats Abby without a hint of embarrassment.
    â€œUm, I … well, I really don’t see how it’s any of your business.”
    Abby looks flabbergasted, like I’ve just landed a sucker punch in her gut.
    â€œOkay, okay. No, I