“I’m sorry we missed it,” Frank’s mother said. “Next time you’re in a play, I hope we’ll be able to come and see it. You’ll let us know won’t you?”
“This was an assignment for a class, Mom. It wasn’t open to the public. But if I’m ever in a real play, you’ll be sure to know.”
Cindy piped up. “What I want to know is why when I asked who drove you home, you told us he was on the gymnastics team when he’s really a football player?”
Shit! Why can’t she keep her trap shut! What a tangled web we weave…Frank thought.
“Well, he’s pretty famous and I didn’t want you to think I was bragging that he was my friend.”
“I never heard of him,” Cindy said, a forkful of pancake stuffed in her mouth.
Reverend Bethune reprimanded his daughter. “Cynthia! Talking with your mouthful!”
“Sorry.” Cindy swallowed and went on. “But why’s he so famous?”