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“But we’re slammed tonight—”
“And what? You’re going to serve them Senor Frog’s finest?” Grover quips.
“I could run home and change,” I say.
But he shakes his head. “It’s a non-starter. I’ll pull one of the girls in back to help.”
“Because that will really win them over,” I mumble.
“Don’t you dare think of pulling me,” Molly hisses.
Grover’s face remains impassive as he eyes her, but then he nods, and she twerks in celebration.
“Go home, get some rest. See you tomorrow?” Grover says.
I nod, grateful that he’s not going to make it an issue with our manager. Girls have been fired for less than this. I pull on my raincoat and start the twenty-block walk back to my apartment. I had a bad feeling that a bus ride wouldn’t make it any better, and a premonition that it might still get worse.
CHAPTER9
DEREK
Chicago is the worst.
There’s nothing about this city that endears me to it. Even in May, when the wind off the lake is pummeling the tulips and the river is still a little too green to blame it on St. Patrick’s Day. And I’m stuck in a stained shirt from when a forkful of casserole that they call “pizza” fell off my fork. Because of course, the six foot two kid from Naperville with insane gap control and an unbelievable thirty-six assists on his junior season, wanted to eat at Malnati’s.
At which point his dad told me he was going to stay close to home. Meaning he’s already verbally committed to Barnum State in Minnesota.
Fuck my life.
The other kid I scouted on this trip is still young and, despite having the most genuinely supportive parents I think I’ve ever met, looks more suitable for a D-III team. So now I’m sitting in my hotel room, scrolling through my contacts, and trying to decide whether or not to call my Chicago service.
The truth is, in the month since the Frozen Four, I haven’t called Karlie. Not once. Her service actually calledmeto make sure there wasn’t a reason for it, offering to connect me with someone else. And it’s not to say I haven’t been hard up. But the thought of getting off with someone else hasn’t done it for me.
Probably because I’ve been unable to get those blue eyes and dark ponytail out of my head.
My phone buzzes in my hand. It’s Flux.
“Tell me good news,” I say.
He groans. “That was my opener.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and then unbutton my shirt. Flux is in North Dakota, working on a kid who I thought we had in the pocket. But then he went on a tear, only giving up one goal over six tournament games, and ended up inSportsCenter’shighlights reel in the state championship. Suddenly it didn’t matter that we’d been the only program interested in him since before he could drive.
“Tell me he’s still in the mix,” I say.
“He’s still in the mix,” Freddy deadpans. “We’re just not at the top anymore.”
“Those fuckers in Eastern Washington,” I say, tugging my shirt off and working on my belt.
“Get this, they’re not his top choice.”
“Who is?” I ask.Don’t say Barnum State.
“Barnum State.”
“Fuck.”
“You think this is Hirschfeld?”
