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Ellie zipped by the line, giving TJ a little shove in the chest. “What did I say about calling me ‘babe’ at work?” she asked, arching an eyebrow up at him.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Vonnie! Twenty more to the swear jar!” Griff yelled out with a grin.
“Dude!” TJ protested.
Griff shrugged. “I like this initiative. I think we can raise a lot of money.”
By the time we were finally dismissed, my muscles were already protesting, and I was afraid I wouldn’t even be able to walk tomorrow.
I hightailed it to the trainers after leaving the locker room, and I was now walking out of the stadium with ice packs taped to my right quad and my left shoulder.
“What’s for dinner, boys?” Garcia asked, running a hand through his damp spiky black hair. “Chinese again?” he asked with his signature troublemaker grin.
“No,” I snapped. “That fortune cookie’s trying to ruin my life.”
“You can’t believe-”
“Uh, yes, I can,” I countered.
“No more,” Hassik agreed warily.
Garcia and I made brief eye-contact, wordlessly agreeing that we needed to keep Hassik away from his phone and thoughts of Francesca tonight. “I’m treating myself tonight, boys. Getting takeout from Pop’s on Third. You guys want? Then Xbox tourney when I get back?”
“Sounds perfect, man,” Garcia said.
Hassik just nodded.
________
Hassik must’ve rubbed off on me a little in terms of music taste because I was listening to some old emo tunes while I carried up our takeout tray from Pops. I was fully convinced that Pops’ Chicken Parm was made with a recipe from heaven itself because my mouth was watering from the smell alone, and I couldn’t wait to dig in.
I waited for our elevator for about five full minutes before losing patience. It must’ve been busted again. Today was not the day for that to happen, I internally whined. My legs were already hurting, and we lived on the fourth floor. But my hunger outweighed my soreness, and I hurriedly made my way to the stairwell.
I picked up my pace even though my muscles were screaming at me, but I just wanted to get this over with then lay out on my couch for the rest of the fucking night. I started taking the stairs by two at a time and was just rounding the second floor’s little platform when I was absolutely clotheslined.
My body was smacked to the ground, and I legit saw stars.
I stayed laying there on the concrete, blinking a few times to try and regain clear vision and gather what the fuck just happened to me.
“Oh my God, are you okay?!”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Was I hallucinating? Did I just hit my head that hard? Because that couldn’t be…. Was that reallyhervoice?
“Can you get up? I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have swung the door open like that. But really, what are the chances that you’d be walking by at that very second?” she shrieked.
I breathed out and looked down my chest to see pasta sauce covering my favorite shirt and jacket.
And… the worst thing about it… it looked like blood.
I immediately gagged, then tried to control my mind.It was fucking pizza sauce, get over it,I sternly told myself as I shoved the sauce off me and searched for napkins.
“Oh jeez,” she let out, then she was kneeling by my side.
Her concerned hazel eyes met mine, and I swear to God my heartbeat fucking stuttered.
“Miss Josie?” I asked breathlessly.
