The Secrets of Boys Read Online Free Page B

family dinners two to three times a week to “pro-mote closeness and communication,” as she wrote in her best-selling self-help book All the Time in the World .
    Cassidy glanced quickly at herself in the mirror and ran a brush through her hair. “Respect Your Appearance, Respect Yourself ” was her favorite chapter in her mother’s book. Sandra Jones liked her family to practice what she preached.
    Dinner was already on the table as Cassidy hopped off the bottom step. She glanced guiltily at the words FAMILY
    DINNER written prominently in the seven o’clock time slot on the erasable whiteboard hanging in the front hall.
    It was unlike her to forget things like that. In fact, she usually set the alarm on her cell phone to go off a few minutes beforehand so she could be down in time to help her mother get dinner on the table.
    Cassidy took her usual spot at one end of the long glass-and-marble dining room table, next to her dad and across from her mom. Her mouth watered as she eyed the chicken roasted with rosemary until the skin was crisp and the inside juicy and sweet, potatoes mashed with just the right amount of butter, and string beans steamed so they still crunched when you bit into them. There were fresh tiger lilies in a hand-blown glass vase on the table, and quiet classical music played in the background. “If You’re Gonna Take the Time to Do Something, You Might as Well Do It Right” was another chapter in Mom’s book.
    But tonight something was different. Her parents seemed tense with excitement, like they had a big, wonderful secret hanging in the air between them. It buzzed around her mom’s carefully styled dark hair and coral-colored Chanel lipstick and seemed to bounce off the paunch sticking out from her father’s argyle sweater vest.
    “So Cassidy,” her mother said, smiling as she squeezed a wedge of lime into her club soda. “According to my calendar, school is almost out for the year.”
    “Yeah, it is,” Cassidy agreed. “Just finals on Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday to pick classes for next year, clean out our lockers on Friday, and then I’m free.”
    “And how do you expect to do on finals?” Sandra probed. “I know we were looking at mostly A’s during midterms.”
    “I’ve been studying real hard,” Cassidy replied. “I even joined a study group for American history.” She didn’t mention that the study group consisted of her, Larissa, and two girls who were perpetually sneaking out of the library to smoke cigarettes behind the Dumpsters, and that they mostly talked about which American Idol contestants had the worst hair. “Always Stress the Positive” was yet another chapter in her mom’s book, and Cassidy had memorized every line in it.
    “And how about French?” Sandra asked. Cassidy noticed that even though her mother had peeled the skin off her chicken breast, none of the food had actually made it to her mouth.
    “I should do just fine,” she said. “I’ve gotten A’s on all the quizzes so far.” All the written quizzes, at least.
    Cassidy decided to leave out Monsieur Stuart’s displeasure at her refusal to speak in class. She wasn’t a conversation-alist in her native language. How did the man expect her to start yapping it up in one that she barely understood?
    “Excellent.” Cassidy watched her parents exchange glances. Something was definitely up. “Because we have some good news for you.”
    “Great news,” Laurent Jones agreed, his mustache twitching with anticipation.
    “Really?” Cassidy’s mind reeled with possibilities.
    Maybe they’d decided that if she got an A in every subject, she would get a Lexus or something. She hated driving her mom’s Volvo; it had middle-aged self-help writer written all over it.
    “Yes,” her mom continued. “We’ve enrolled you in a wonderful summer program. Only the best students are accepted.”
    “Summer … program?” Maybe she’d heard wrong.
    It wouldn’t be unlikely, considering the way