Page 57 of The Foul Out

Bambi: This is a karaoke idea, not nonsense.

Dragon: And in what world do you think I’m doing karaoke?

Dragon left Baseball Bros

Me: Did you really think he’d sing or dance with you?

Bambi: He did when I proposed.

Dumpty: Dude you can’t see a difference?

Me: I’m in for any karaoke plan.

Angel Boy: Going to sing a love song?

You removed Angel Boy from Baseball Bros

Dumpty: dead

“ID,”the giant standing at the door barked.

“Oh.” I should probably have expected that, but it had been so long since I’d gone out like this that it hadn’t even crossed my mind. As I was digging my wallet out of my bag, my phone buzzed.

Jace: What’s the name of the pizza place the kids like?

For the love of God, it was almost eight thirty, and he was only now thinking about feeding them? I guessed I shouldn’t be so surprised. He had been almost an hour late, so why wouldn’t dinner be late too? I knew better than to bring it up, though. If I did, it would lead to a fight and delay dinner further, so I just fired off the answer and then got my driver’s license out.

An exasperated sigh sounded behind me, garnering my attention. The group of women behind me were all dressed in ridiculously short dresses and sky-high heels. My own leggings and boots screamedmomsuddenly. But it was November in Boston. I was wearing double the clothing these girls were, and I was still freezing. The one closest to me scrutinized my sweater, then turned her nose up like it offended her. Tough shit. So I wasn’t wearing a sparkling cropped tank top like her and every other Gen Zer in the line. Even if I had the first clue what was in style these days, it wouldn’t matter. The last time I’d purchased new clothing was probably shortly after Sam was born.

I’d had lunch with Zara three times over the last couple of weeks, and I’d never felt dowdy or frumpy. But beside these women, I felt very out of place.

“You’re good.” The bouncer tipped his head like I should go in.

But I wasn’t sure where to go. Zara had said they would check the list and send me the right way. I’d waited almost forty minutes already, and I still didn’t have the first clue.

“I think I’m supposed to tell you that I’m here for Zara Price’s party?”

He lifted one dark brow and peered down at me. “Why didn’t you go to the VIP line?” He pointed to the other side of the door, where two people stood at a podium and there wasn’t a single person in line.

Why? Because I had no idea what I was doing. There was a line here, so I got in it.

“Harper.”

At the sound of my name, I turned. A blond in ripped jeans and a gorgeous brunette in a crop top and black leggings very similar to mine—although with her curves, she wore them much better—approached. I’d met them at the stadium. The blond had pulled the bird off me.

“Hi.” I half waved to the two women who were now standing by the VIP check-in. Although I wasn’t positive of their names, they were definitely part of the Revs’ wives and girlfriends group. The realization that neither of them was dressed like the women in line behind me made me feel a million times better.

“Are they giving you a hard time, Avery?” Christian—I thought he was the pitcher for team—came up beside the blond and scowled.

“Damiano!”

“Dragon!”

The calls echoed from the line I was holding up, but Christian ignored the noise like he hadn’t heard it, remaining completely focused on Avery.

“No.” She shook her head and pointed my way. “We were grabbing Harper.”

“Oh.” The corner of his mouth tipped up almost imperceptibly at the sight of me, making him look slightly less pissed off. “Wrong line. Come this way.” He waved my way, and the bouncer let me out through the red rope.

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