Chapter 2: Dinnertime Surprises

AN: Wow! I'm actually updating! Gotta love it! I'm on a writing kick right now so I'm gonna get as much done as I can! Lucky for you all! Here's the story!

Forks and knives scratched along our plates as we ate dinner quietly. My stepmom, Maggie, had made chicken with veggie stir fry, and Logan and I were wolfing it down. She's a good cook, but the sooner I finished my dinner, the sooner I could avoid any prying questions about my day.

"So, Frank, how was practice today?" Maggie asked, as if she knew I was trying to avoid talking to her.

I glanced up, meeting Logan's eye as he raised an eyebrow, daring me to try lying to his mom. I looked back down at my plate. "It was okay. Pretty uneventful."

"I wonder why," Logan mumbled under his breath, and I kicked him underneath the table.

"What was that?" Maggie looked at her son, and with a wince, he shook his head.

"Nothing, Mom."

I bit my lip, my eye catching on Logan's Hadley High Baseball t-shirt. "How was practice, Logue? Cameron seems pretty bored now that he can't play."

Cameron, my best friend of ten years, got in a fight at the baseball game last week. Cam's a pitcher, and he hit a batter on a wild pitch. Everyone gets hit, and most guys could take it, but this guy stormed the mound. The dugouts emptied, everyone ran in to join the fight, and it took the umps a few minutes to restore order on the field.

When the dust cleared, the kid was gone, having split after realizing that he'd be in huge trouble for storming the mound, and Cam was on the ground with a black eye and a broken foot. The batter had whaled him with his bat, apparently. If Cam was able to play however, he likely would've been suspended for the rest of the season. They only had the postseason left, anyways, since we only had a few more days left in the school year.

Logan shrugged. "Tate's ready to lose his mind, he even tried to use one of his crutches as a bat when we were messing around after practice today. Coach nearly whupped his ass for it-"

"Logan Alexander, you watch your language!" Maggie interjected, hitting my brother on the arm lightly.

Logan shot her an incredulous look. "Really, Mom? I think Frankie's heard the word 'ass' before."

My stepmom shook her head, "That's not what I meant."

"Yeah, Logan. Be respectful," I shook my head. "How rude. Mags, I'm gonna go upstairs to do my homework, thanks for dinner."

"Not so fast, young lady." Maggie said sharply, "We need to talk."

I raised an eyebrow, "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No, smartass, about your detention."

"Busted," Logan coughed, trying not to let his mom see his grin.

I kicked my brother under the table again, "Shut up."

"Ow! Mom, she keeps kicking me!"

I scowled at him, "Mag, Logan broke Great-Gram's urn!"

"You're so full of shit!"

"Would you watch your hecking language?"

"Mom, she's lying! She and Cameron broke the urn when playing hockey in the family room! Again!"

"I told you not to tell her about my detention and what do you do? You freaking-"

A fist slammed down onto the dinner table, rattling the silverware and abruptly ending the argument.

Logan and I spun to face our mom so fast both of us could've gotten whiplash.

"Maggie, what the heck?"

"Mom!"

We were both shocked.

My dad had the temper. He passed it onto me. Mags was calm, constantly, almost annoyingly so. She never got loud or violent or slammed her hand onto the table.

"The two of you are going to give me a migraine, I swear to the…" She took a deep breath, trailing off.

I raised an eyebrow. "To the what?"

Maggie shook her head, "Frankie, the school called me. Would you stop glaring at your brother?"

My expression softened. "Why did you ask me how track practice was if you knew I had detention after school?"

"I was going to give you a chance to be honest about it. We need to talk about this, Frankie."

I shook my head, not meeting anyone's eye. "I don't wanna talk, Mags."

My stepmom placed a hand on my brother's arm, speaking softly. "Logan, don't you have some homework to do?"

And just like that, it was just the two of us.

"C'mon Frankie, what's going on? That's your third detention this month, and you're not the type to act up. Logan, I'd expect this from, but you? This isn't normal for you."

I sighed, "It's my stupid homeroom teacher. She's got it out for me. I'm not even doing anything, I'm just late every so often, and she gives me a detention for it! I'm just so frustrated! I don't know why she doesn't like me, but she goes out of her way to pick on me!"

Maggie frowned, "Your homeroom teacher?"

"Yeah. Mrs. Smith. I bet that isn't even her real name anyway," I stabbed my chicken a few times for emphasis. "I bet she's actually some international crime boss, on the run from the Mexican government, who's secretly smuggling cocaine into the country, and she knows that I'm onto her. And she's trying to silence me before I can alert the authorities and blow her cover!"

I swung my arms wide, but lost my hold on my fork, sending it spiraling into the family room.

"Oops."

Maggie sighed, rolling her eyes, "You need to be more careful, Frankie. And I'm sure your homeroom teacher isn't smuggling cocaine."

"Who's smuggling cocaine?" A voice asked, and I leapt out of my seat.

"Dad!"

"Hey, Kiddo," he laughed, holding me tight as I threw my arms around his middle.

Everything seemed more okay now that he was here. He smelled like chewing tobacco, which meant that he'd had a stressful ride home. He picked up the habit when he lived on the road, traveling with minor leaguers who chose tobacco over bubble gum to chew. I guess that I got the safer habit, biting my nails, although Mag said that both of our habits were downright disgusting.

It's part of the ADHD, I think. My dad, Logan, and I all have it. We all have our quirks, our tics, our habits. Dad chews, I bite my nails, and Logan talks.

If you haven't noticed, my brother doesn't shut up. He's an extrovert, he's social, he's popular, and man, he will talk your ear off.

"What's this about drug smuggling?" My dad asked, holding me at arm's length to shoot me a suspicious look. "Frank, are you getting into trouble again?"

"Nooo, " I sang, my voice high pitched.

"Yes," Maggie, who'd come around the table to stand beside my father, shot me down with a look, frowning. "Tom, Frankie was in detention again. We need to talk about this."

Dad raised an eyebrow at me. "Frankie?"

"I was a few minutes late to homeroom this morning," I shrugged. "And my homeroom teacher- who I think is smuggling cocaine- is out to get me, so she gave me a detention. Dad, I promise, I'm not acting out, I'm just-"

"Why is there a fork in here?" Logan interrupted me from the other room, and I lost my train of thought as my head spun to look at him, but I didn't have a witty response, so I made a face, but didn't answer.

I turned back around to find Mags shaking her head, my dad pointing a finger at her.

"What's going on?" I asked them, looking back and forth between my parents, "What are you arguing about?"

"Nothing," Maggie said quickly, pushing my short hair back behind my ears, where it wouldn't stay for long.

Dad, brow furrowed, let out a breath as he looked from Mags to me. "Nothing."

Before I could call bullshit, my dad was talking again.

"Hey Kiddo, there is something we need to talk about regarding this weekend. It's an important weekend, you know."

I grinned up at him excitedly, "I was starting to think you'd forgot."

"I know how much you love John Hughes movies, but I would never forget your birthday. This is not Sixteen Candles, Franklin," Dad said with a smile. "For starters, I got the okay to work from home all weekend, and I got tickets for Saturday's game. For all of us, and Cam, if he can crutch his way through the park. I know you were looking forward to seeing your Phils lose to the Mets, but I think watching them beat the Marlins on your birthday would be even better."

I squealed like a preteen at her first Jonas Brothers concert. "Screw the Mets! That is so much cooler! And Cameron would kill me if I didn't bring him! Dad! Thank you!"

I lunged forward to hug him again, and in all my excitement, I missed the sad smile that my dad and Maggie shared, almost as if they weren't looking forward to my sixteenth birthday.

"I'm gonna go call Cameron!"

"You do realize that I live next door to you, right?" Cameron asked as he accepted my FaceTime call, "You could just come over if you need to talk to me. or shine a flashlight into my bedroom window like you used to do when we were little."

I rolled my eyes, flopping onto my bed. "Guess what!"

He disappeared off the screen, still talking. "Are you really gonna make me-"

I interrupted him before he could finish. "My dad got tickets to the Phillies game for my birthday! We're all going this weekend!"

"That's awesome!" Cam said, popping back into my field of vision, "are they good seats?"

"I didn't even ask," I laughed, pulling out my chemistry homework and putting it on my bed, propping my phone up on a pillow. "I completely forgot. I was just so excited that he was home, you know?"

"How did he take the news about your detention?" Cameron asked, sounding like he was far away from his phone.

"Not as bad as I thought he would. Maggie wasn't happy though. What are you doing?" I frowned, squinting at the phone, chemistry homework forgotten.

Cam's head came back into view. "Dad wants me to start getting packed up for camp. He thinks that I procrastinate packing up til the last minute and I'm never prepared."

Instantly, my mood soured.

"Oh, right. You're still going to baseball camp this summer?" I tried to pretend I wasn't interested in his answer, looking instead at the chemical equations worksheet that I had to complete by tomorrow.

I hated baseball camp.

Baseball camp meant that Cameron would be gone from June 30th, throughout July, until almost the end of August. We only ever had one week of summer vacation to spend together.

And it was all because of stupid baseball camp.

"Why wouldn't I?" Cameron sounded distant, and not just from his phone.

I looked at the phone, incredulous, chemical equations forgotten. "You broke your foot. You can't even play baseball."

His face appeared on the screen again, frowning. "So? I'll have the cast off soon, and I'll be able to play."

"That's not how it works, Cameron," I scowled. "Why do you always have to go to this stupid camp? Logan stays and plays summer ball here, why can't you?"

"It's… a special camp, Frank." Cameron said slowly, not making eye contact with me, distracted, his voice raising just the slightest in pitch.

And that's when I knew he was lying to me.

AN: I never claimed to not be dramatic! Word count isn't too high, but I wanted to get this chapter up today! What did you think? Please comment, favorite, follow, and PM me if you like what you read! Thanks guys!