Page 45 of Call the Shots
“Goddammit!” she swore and hit the window again, harder, faster. She swore again and the baseball bat whistled through the air beforethack—nothing. June hurried to brush at her eyes, and she hit from overhead—thack, thack, THACK.
Holy shit, is she crying?
“MOTHERFUCKER!” June screamed, slamming the baseball bat against the window before cracks appeared. Therewas no way she noticed. She was too busy biting out curses until the window exploded outward in a million pieces. June kicked away a hollowed-out microwave and the baseball bat flew like an extension of her arm, beating everything in a five-foot radius, reducing glass to pieces, breaking apart frames, leaving destruction in her wake.
Breathing hard, June whirled around, her ponytail undone, her face pink. Everyone stared. Silent. Stunned.
Montoya gave her two thumbs-up. “Nice job, June!”
The kid obviously didn’t pick up this wasn’t normal.
“Yeah—yeah.” June dropped the baseball bat, leaving for the door. “That’s how you do it.”
Cleo tried to follow but June waved her away. The other guys went to the weapons, selecting what they wanted, but I watched the door swing shut. Slowly, I pulled off my protective goggles.
I didn’t have a plan for how to talk to June. I just kept thinking about how shiny her eyes looked. The angry tears she hurried to wipe away. Scanning the hallways, searching for a hint of blonde hair, I caught sight of her on the curb outside, phone to her ear.
“This is self-preservation,” I muttered to myself, heading to the service counter. “June’s your roommate. If she snaps and murders someone, you’re the closest warm body.”
The cashier glanced up from his phone. “Yeah?”
“Do you have…?” I checked the snacks they had available, chocolate bars and bags of chips. June would shrug those off. “I don’t know. Something healthy?”
“We have smoothies.”
Great, June liked smoothies. I saw her get them atGianna’s. Actually…the more I thought about it, the more I realized those were the only things I could remember her buying. That couldn’t be right. I wracked my brain, thinking of the last time I sawher buy solid food atGianna’s.Maybe…salads? I couldn’t even remember what she ate for breakfast.
Maybe June had a thing against eating around others?
Whatever. The smoothie would be a good segue.
Hey, got you a smoothie. You won’t take a hammer to my ankles, right? Or smother me with a pillow? Just wondering.
I watched the sliver of June through the window. It looked like her social media went dark last semester but there was still plenty from before that. I scrolled through her accounts this morning. Always football games. Always with her arm wrapped around someone’s waist, where people commented about how blah, blah, blah wouldn’t exist without her.
June, in miniskirts, blue jackets, and eyeshadow so bright, it became the main focus of the picture.
To June, now. June, with her hair cut, draped below her shoulders. Most days she didn’t have makeup on. I knew she put a lot of effort into it when she wore it, and it looked great, but there was something about her naked face that was hard to look away from. How her lips puckered when she contemplated something, the tiny lines on the bridge of her nose when she gave one of those frowns that looked out of place because her face wasn’t meant to frown.
June was the most likely person in Roman Villa to have a nervous breakdown, but she was also…really pretty. Naturally gorgeous. Like someone would’ve taken a picture of her with the first camera, because that’s what cameras were invented for.
“Your smoothie?”
“Huh?” I jerked back. “Oh, yeah.”
I made my way to the front door, careful to keep the drink from spilling. No lids left, just my luck. I slowly pulled open the door?—
“Well, I love you, King.”
I froze. The door was only a few inches open, but I could clearly hear June.
“Uh-huh. Yeah. I can’t believe I missed paintball. Uh-huh. No. Um…maybe next time.”
My fingers curled over the door handle. She said ‘I love you’toKing?
“I’m drowning in hockey,” June admitted. “I’m in way over my head. The moment my contract’s up, I’m never going near the Colo again.”
My stomach sank, and I fought off that feeling. Of all things, why did I give a shit? I already knew June couldn’t wait to say goodbye to hockey. It was obvious. This was a temporary solution to keep her on campus and once her contract with the Gladiators was up, she wouldn’t renew it. Fine by me.
