Crash Test Love by Ted Michael

Author:Ted Michael
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

GARRETT

“Tel us al about school!” my mother says at dinner. Since the move, we haven’t eaten together often because of Dad’s teaching schedule.

Wednesday nights he’s free, though, and we try to do something as a family. Usual y this means ordering in (Mom isn’t much of a cook), but tonight she’s made her signature dish: spaghet i.

“Eat up, guys, or it’l go cold!” She pours more sauce onto my plate. “Isn’t this delicious? It’s my favorite recipe.” I want to say that boiling water and heating up a can of Four Brothers doesn’t qualify as a recipe, but I don’t because, real y, where wil that get me?

“I tried this new pasta,” Mom says, “and it’s green! You probably can’t tel because of the sauce, but it is. Green pasta. What wil they think of next? It’s made from spinach, I think. Organic spinach. Which is real y healthy for you, honey”—she turns to my dad—“because of your high cholesterol.”

“My cholesterol is just ne,” he says, swal owing.

“That’s not what Dr. Mil er told you. Dr. Mil er said that your cholesterol was through the roof! Can you imagine? Now, eat up.” She wipes Dad’s chin with her napkin. “You had a lit le sauce on you,” she says, kissing him. Then she turns her at ention back to me. “We’re stil waiting, Garret

—how is school?”

“It’s ne,” I say.

“What are your favorite classes?” Dad asks.

I think for a second. “I guess AP Lit and, I don’t know, my creative writing elective.”

“You always were such a wonderful writer,” Mom says. “I’ve saved al the birthday cards you gave me, you know. Your words are like miniature poems. You’ve got a gift, dear. A gift. Don’t let it go to waste.”

I can’t remember ever writing anything to my mother other than Happy Birthday, Mom. Love, Garret , but I don’t correct her. “Uh, thanks.”

“Any friends?” Dad asks.

“There are these girls. London, Jessica, and Jyl ian. They’re … nice.” If the J Squad ever heard me describe them as nice, I think they would o cial y cut me o .

“That’s great, sweetie,” Dad says. “Any boys?”

My father has never liked any of my past boyfriends except for Ben, who he didn’t like so much as tolerate. Not because they were bad guys

—he’s just leery of any teenagers with testosterone.

I wonder what Dad would think of my current actions: get ing Henry to fal in love with me so I can dump him on television to teach him a lesson. I doubt he’d be very proud. Before I can answer, my mother says, “Oh no, honey. Garret has sworn o men. Forever.” Dad raises an eyebrow. “Forever?”

“Just until col ege,” I say.

He continues staring at me. “Good for you, sweetie. That’s an excel ent idea. Focus on your grades and applying to schools. Have you thought about where you want to go?”

I remember my conversation with Henry in his room. Why is the question from adults always Have you thought about where you

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