The Boy Is Back by Meg Cabot (10)

Hey, Val, sorry, I forgot to call you earlier. Can we take a rain check on Orlando? I’ll make it up to you.

Reed. You woke me up.

Oops, sorry. But I’m leaving on a 7AM flight. I have to go see my parents for a few days.

Oh God, is it true? You really are the son of those postage stamp people—the Dumbasses of the Week? LOL JK

Who’s been saying that?

LOL literally everyone.

Why? Believe me, they’ve been saying far worse stuff about you—especially your chances at ever winning another Major.

JK! You know I love you.

As a matter of fact, those are my parents.

LOL! Oh, Reed! I had no idea. I’m so sorry, baby!

It’s okay. That’s why I have to go back home. I’ve got to see what I can do to help. Anyway, I’m boarding now.

Of course, baby. Take care! Say hi to your parents for me!

Sure. Maybe I’ll see you again someday.

???? Maybe you’ll see me again someday? What the F does that mean????

Alvarez, I know this is last minute, but I’m not going to make it to Orlando until next week. I’ve got some family stuff I need to straighten out. I’ll see you there Monday.

You don’t think Monday’s cutting it a little short, boudro? Cutler’s already there.

He and his caddy walked the course yesterday. He signed up for nine holes today. He’s doing a full practice tomorrow—and I’m guessing with this divorce, he’s got more family stuff going on than you do.

Cutler’s an ass.

An ass who just made World Number 1. MacKenzie dropped out, citing back problems.

Cutler’s an animal.

Yeah, well, I’m an animal, too.

Animals don’t go home to their mommies the week before a tournament.

Fine. You go now, check out the greens, and while you’re there, meet with local realtors and pick out a house for me to buy.

Pick out a house for you to buy? I’m your caddy, not your girlfriend.

What happened to Valerie?

It’s Valery and we broke up.

Oh, big surprise. You never stay with a woman for more than 3 months. You know that Chan says you got the 3 month itch. I tried to tell him it’s not true, but you make it hard.

Just find me a house. Nothing too big. Two bedroom, two bath would be great. With a pool, or at least access to a pool. A condo would be best. No yard to mow.

What? Where’s the hot tub, home theater system, and dedicated game room? This place don’t sound like you, boudro.

It’s not for me. It’s for my parents.

Now I know you’ve lost it.

You haven’t spoken to your parents in all the years I’ve known you.

They’ve never been to one of your games, not even when we played Crooked Stick, and that was only 50 miles from where they live.

And now you’re not only going home to see them, you’re buying them a house?

What is going on with you, boudro?

It’s a long story.

I can’t wait to hear it.

Fine, I’ll look for a house for your parents.

But I think you should know that none of the other players ask their caddy to look for houses for their parents.

None of the other players pay their caddy as much as I pay you.

Not lately, boudro. 10% of nothing is nothing.

I pay you $1700 a week on top of that 10% cut of my winnings, but thanks for the tender reminder.

Like I said, I ain’t your girlfriend.

And I thank the sweet Lord for it every morning when I see your ugly mug.

You ain’t no prize either.

Safe travels, boudro.

Same to you, boudro.