Page 175 of Call the Shots
Cleo’s eyes flickered to Bear, and I followed her line of sight to him talking to Pickles and Charlie. His gaze landed on mine and there was that smile again, so hopeful and boyish and sweet. So different from any kind of smile he had from the summer.
“Oh,” Cleo whispered.
“Those trips I took with Xavier’s family, the dinners, the weekends, remember how I used to complain about Bear not showing up?” I put my head in my hands. “What if I was wrong? What if he wasn’t invited?”
“Um…shit.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“I—I don’t know.”
My eyes widened. “You always know what to do!”
“Not this. I can fix sports teams; I can’t fix deep-rooted family problems.”
“Do I tell Bear?Now?”
She made a noise at the back of her throat. “I’ve never seen him happy. This would definitely kill him.”
“I don’t want to kill Bear! I don’t want to hurt him at all!”
Her eyes darted to her phone. “Oh, wow, Sémajuste’s here, Gladiators! SÉMAJUSTE’S HERE!”
“Wait, Mom! What do I do?!” I pleaded but one of my best friends in the world scurried away from the table, gathering everyone from their workstations. “Mom!MOM!”
CHAPTER 66
BEAR
THE SÉMA-AUTOMATIC
Fuck being friends.
They were about to lock me in the pound for how much pussy I’d eat. Now that my check was in my account, I’d take June out to dinner. Show her how much of a gentleman I could be before I had her ass-up at home.
Once she saw how green the grass was, she’d never want to leave.
Everything was falling into place, I couldn’t believe it. I was actually settling in with my team, we had a brand-new coach, and I scored June.Holy shit.
“We’re professionals,” Denali reminded us by the entrance, anticipation thick in the air. “Not fanboys, we’re hockey players.”
The front door’s handle jiggled and everyone shifted forward, watching, craning our necks,waiting.
This was it. The real beginning of the Gladiators.
The door pushed open and everyone held their breath.
A tan guy in a neon jacket shoved his way through. He peered at the ceiling of the Colo and whistled.
Not Sémajuste.
“Uh…are you—uh—lost?” Nick asked, confused.
The guy scanned the team and laughed. He moved past us, heading deeper into the Colo.
We exchanged more confused looks, no one was sure what to say or do when the door opened again. More people in neon safety jackets poured through, sunglasses propped on their foreheads, then came fancy people with bluetooth headphones, loudly having conversations, people in polo shirts,morepeople in polo shirts, until a line was streaming into the Colo.
“I’m your new strength coach!” someone shouted, shaking my teammates’ hands.
