Page 22 of Teasing the Winger

My body is frozen as I stare at my phone, reading the message over and over again.

Sasha likes me.

I mean, I had my suspicions from time to time, but he’s a flirt, so I didn’t think it actually meant anything. And he said he wanted to go on a date, which means I really mean something to him, because he doesn’t date. He fucks and moves on to the next. Which isn’t something I would be comfortable with doing. But is dating Sasha a smart move?

I’m spiraling when my phone vibrates again, but this time, it’s a message from BooBoo and not another from Sasha. This leaves me feeling conflicted. I want Sasha to send another message and tell me how much he likes me and why he suddenly wants to date me.

BooBoo: My mom asked if you are free today for a tarot reading.

Maybe the cards will be able to tell me what I should be doing.

Me: Sure. What time?

BooBoo: I can pick you up in an hour.

Me: Sounds good.

I shove the phone back in my pocket and take a deep breath when I suddenly remember my dream from last night. It was the typical dream of me running, but it wasn’t a koala chasing me this time. It was Sasha. Which I guess makes sense. I’m definitely afraid of the feelings I’ve been having for him, especially since I wasn’t sure if he was on the same page. But for some reason, knowing he feels the same doesn’t ease my fear.

Letting out a sigh, I throw myself onto my bed and stare at the ceiling.

Why does life have to be so fucking complicated?

Exactly one hour later BooBoo is at my place, and I climb into his car, ready to meet his mom.

“Saying my mom is eccentric would be an understatement,” BooBoo states as he drives us to his parents’ house. “She’s honestly crazy, but she’s so loving and kind that it makes up for her weirdness.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure she’s fine. Aren’t all kids supposed to think their parents are weird?”

BooBoo shrugs. “Maybe… But she’s like extra weird. I just don’t want you to say I didn’t warn you.”

“Dude, I’m going to her for a tarot reading. I know what I’m getting into here.”

He hums his acknowledgment. “I guess you’re right. Is there anything you’re hoping to get from your reading?”

I flip the quartz he gave me in my hand a couple of times before responding. “Clarity, I guess. I don’t think this rock is doing that for me.”

“Why do you keep carrying it around then?” he questions with a stupid smirk on his lips.

“Because I don’t want to tempt shit either. I’m worried if I stop carrying it around shit is going to hit the fan, and I don’t want that.”

BooBoo laughs, but he knows exactly what I’m talking about. Athletes aren’t stereotyped as superstitious for no reason.

The rest of the drive is quick, and my palms start to sweat as we pull into a driveway for a cute little house. Flowers line the sidewalk and a wreath of lavender sits front and center on the door.

“Ready for the weirdness?” BooBoo whispers before opening the door and shouting, “We’re here.”

“About time,” a woman in a flowy dress with long raven hair says before pulling BooBoo in for a hug. When she lets him go, she turns to me and offers me the brightest smile I’ve ever seen. It instantly eases the majority of my anxiety. “You must be Rio.”

I nod. “And you’re BooBoo’s mom.”

She giggles and grabs my hand. “I am, but you can call me Karla. Come on, I’ve got everything set up.”

Karla gently pulls on my hand, and I follow her to a room that smells like a garden and is filled with herbs and plants. Beside the big bay window, a table is set up with a black tablecloth and a couple of boxes on top. There are two chairs, one on either side of the table.

“Have a seat and pick a tarot deck,” she instructs before telling BooBoo to go help his father in the backyard. He stomps off, clearly unexcited with his new task.

Karla lights some incense while I look at the boxes. I’m not sure what the aroma is, but it’s somewhat sweet and wraps around me like a blanket of calm. My eyes keep coming back to one box, and I feel like it’s calling me, so I tap it, and Karla smiles.

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