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“That flirty face, dumbass,” he barked in his gravelly voice. “You’re not fooling me.” He shoved a garlic knot in his mouth. “These are great, by the way.”
I scratched my cheek, realizing it was a big fucking fail on my part to leave the bag at her doorstep while her dad was still there. I hoped Josie had at least seen my peace offering.
“Your head alright? My daughter knocked you flat on your ass,” he said with a chuckle.
That caught the boys’ attention behind me, and I could already hear the chirps that’d be flying my way as soon as I closed the door.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I mumbled distractedly.
“Well, my daughter moved in,” he said with a sigh.
“Yeah…” I racked a hand through my hair feeling awkward as all hell over the fact that he probably read the little note I left on the take-out bag.
“I picked this place on purpose. You all keep an eye out for her, you hear?” His hard gray eyes landed on the boys behind me, and that made my chest feel tight. I selfishly wanted him to be entrusting only me with her safety. Coach poked me right in the chest then. “And no funny business, Jettersen. No sniffin’ around my daughter. Security only,or else,” he ordered with a grunt.
I rubbed where he poked my chest and couldn’t keep a grimace off my face as I eyed his beefy fists. He was an old dude, but he could still throw down. He played hockey back when people didn’t even care about wearing helmets. The man was tough as nails.
And I knew clear as day that I’d be getting in trouble with him eventually, and by the way he was looking me over with unease, I think he knew as well.
And really, I didn’t quite care about taking a beating from him if it meant I got to be with his daughter…
12. Josie
“Mom, he chose this apartment because a bunch of his players live here,” I complained into my phone while pulling my winter boots on.
“I know!” She giggled. I could hear some 70’s hippy music playing in the background, telling me that she was in her art room, either painting or sculpting. “They’re just your type, honey! Don’t tell your dad I said that, he’d have an aneurysm. But who cares if he doesn’t like that, they’re hunky, honey.”
“Oh my God, Mom. If you say that one more time,” I warned.
“Just keep an open mind. Make some new friends,” she said in a placating way.
“Yeah, whatever,” I grumbled. It would’ve been easier to have an open mind if I was in an apartment complex where I thought a regular meet-cute could happen. Now things just felt scripted by my dad. And while that Tyler guy was cute, I knew his type. He was probably just looking for a good time and thought his dimples could get him out of anything. Plus, from his little stint at school, I could tell from a mile away that he very clearly had issues with authority figures. That was a dangerous combo.
“You have skating again this morning?” my mom asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yupp.” It was the first day of holiday skating hours at Campus Martius. “I’ll be out on the ice for a while, but I’ll stop by for dinner.”
“Perfect! I’ll have some hot chocolate ready and waiting for you.”
We said our goodbyes and I headed out into the cold, blue sky day.
________
I typically loved monitoring the rink. There was a group of about ten of us monitors and we ran shifts in twos. Today, I was partnered with Jack, a twenty-year-old who interned at a CPA firm through the day, and then lived it up as a self-proclaimed “pond hockey star” at night.
The rink was much more packed today, seeing as most schools let out yesterday. The only issue was that as I skated around the tiny rink, I started to feel a bit wobbly– which was definitely unusual for me seeing as I was more solid on skates than I was in tennis shoes.
I pulled at my leggings band, thinking maybe they were too tight, then adjusted my beanie… but nothing helped.
During our zam break, I chugged a hot chocolate, thinking maybe my sugar level was too low, but that didn’t help either.
I could practically hear my mom’s voice in my head yelling at me not to ignore my body… but that’s what I always did. I pushed through. I made things work. I wouldnotsuccumb to feeling sick like a baby. As a teacher, I was used to this. I couldn’t afford to take sick days– I mean, look at our subbing situation. So, I wasfine. And I would repeat it to myself until it was true.
But around 1pm, the dizzy feeling got drastically worse, and it dawned on me: I was falling victim to the second grade flu.
Un-fucking-believable.
I leaned over the side of the boards and held my head, trying to still my nausea.
