Page 8 of A Scoring Chance

“It hasn’t, but you need to get your cute behind over here right now, and make it quick.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up now. I need to get the cattle back to the farm and take care of Bluebell. I’ll be there before the meeting at 7:30.”

“But you’ll miss everything,” Alise whines into the phone, causing me to roll my eyes.

My best friend has always had a flair for the dramatic, much like my older sister, Imani. Those two were the reason our mommas got so many grey hairs before they turned forty. I’m the exact opposite, not wanting to make waves and trying my best to blend into the background, but Alise and I clicked. Most people assume it’s because we are both in mixed-raced families, but they’re wrong. Alise is the ying to my yang, and I would be completely lost without her. However, no matter how much I love her, she hasn’t given me one reason to rush to the ice rink right now.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just head right home to shower and curl up in bed,” I respond, stopping in the middle of the road to make sure there aren’t any stragglers before moving closer toward home.

“Cooper Hendrix,” She squeals into the phone as if I should know who this person is.

I know Ms. Peggy’s best friend/sister is Melanie Hendrix. Is this one of her boys? I haven’t seen any of them around town recently, but I think there was someone named Cole Hendrix I graduated with. Maybe they’re related? If the stories people say about small towns are true, there’s a strong possibility they’re all related somehow. Mother, brother, son, nephew… Who knows? The sky's the limit.

“Girl, he’s fine.” Alise sighs before giggling softly. “I guess I should’ve started the conversation with that, huh?”

“Ya think?” I roll my eyes, even though I know damn well she can’t see me. Alise is forever trying to set me up with someone, claiming I need some “fun” in my life. “But it doesn’t matterwhat you have planned, the answer is no. This Cooper Hendrix isn’t a good enough reason for me to rush there right this second.”

“Have you been living under a damn rock, Ramona?” she screeches as I pull the phone away from my ear for a moment. “Cooper Hendrix is my brother from another mother. The longest-serving captain in the Portland Timberwolves’ history. He’s brought home three Stanley Cups and lord knows how many Western Conference Championships since joining the team right after high school.”

“Oookaaaaayyyy.” I drag out the word, trying to understand why the heck any of that should matter to me. “But if he’s your brother from another mother, and I’m your sister from another mister, doesn’t that mean he and I are related?”

“I’m working on that right now,” Alise mumbles, barely loud enough for me to hear, and I burst out laughing.

“Oh, no. Not another setup, Lise. I can’t take it. Not again.”

Alise means well, but she feels the need to set me up with any red-blooded male with a friendly smile. She always forgets to ask important questions like whether they are married or have their own apartment. Yes, it’s happened, and it was as mortifying as you would expect. After the last time, I made her promise she would stop with the matchmaking.

“It’s not a setup, per se. He’s Darius’s new hockey coach.”

I let her statement of “per se” go for once, focusing on the matter at hand. “Okay, I can get behind that, but I don’t understand why I have to come right now.”

It’s silent for a few moments before Alise huffs loudly into the line. “Because Annamarie and her plastics are here, and I want to commit murder.”

Now we are getting to the heart of the matter. Annamarie and her friends are stereotypical mean girls. No, seriously, I mean it. If that movie hadn’t been released the year we were born, Iwould believe they used them as inspiration for Regina George and her plastics. A group of wealthy, well-known, and attractive girls who’ve been told their entire lives they are special when they aren’t. Products of living in a small town with small ideas. If any of them ever left this place, they’d know they ain’t shit. Maybe that’s the reason they haven’t stepped foot out of town: the fear of being insignificant.

The only thing I know is if Cooper Hendrix, whoever he is, has gained the attention of Annamarie Sutton and her court, I feel sorry for him. Nothing good ever comes from being the center of their attention. And I’m speaking from experience. Thankfully, I had Alise, the perfect person to protect anyone from the things that go bump in the night. Cooper and Alise are close, so depending on his desire to have said attention will depend on whether I have to worry about my best friend ending up in a jail cell tonight or not. Alise has a temper on her, and Annamarie loves to push her buttons. No matter how you look at it, this situation is a recipe for disaster if I’ve ever seen one.

Alise continues to tell me all about her run-in with Annamarie earlier today, but I tune her out. This isn’t anything new between the two of them. When Alise has a run-in with her, she always calls me. I let her ramble to her heart’s content, not really listening to anything she is saying. I “oh” and “ah” in all the right places and even gasp a few times for maximum effect as I maneuver Bluebell through the fence and signal for her to stop. I check back into the call to make sure Alise is still on one of her tangents before tucking my cell phone into the pocket of my shirt and hopping off. The last thing I want to do is hunt down cattle in the morning as the sun rises. I made that mistake only once. Never again. I quickly shut the gate tightly behind us before striding back toward Bluebell.

The moment I settle back on the horse, I grab my phone and bring it back to my ear. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Nope.” I giggle softly before clicking my heels into Bluebell's side, signaling her to a trot.

“I feel the love.” Alise is silent for a few moments before she speaks again. “Are you coming or not? I look amazing in orange, but I really want to see who winsThe Voicethis season.”

“They have cable in county jail.”

“Ramona.”

“Alise,” I respond with just as much annoyance. I could dig my heels in and go home to shower before heading to The Chill Zone, but the nagging voice in my head is telling me to go. I’m finished with my work for the day, and Alise apparently needs me to stop her from committing murder. She has always been there for me whenever I needed her, no questions asked. The least I can do is to be there for her, too.

“Fine. I just have to get the saddle off Bluebell and get her back to her stall. I can be there in twenty.” I check my watch again to make sure I’m not lying to my best friend as the stables come into view.

“Don’t you want to stop at home and shower first?”

“No, you take what you can get. No shower, but I promise to make sure there’s no straw in my locs this time.”

“Thank the Lord for that.”

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