Page 22 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
The business office had been sympathetic to my tears and given me until the start of the school year, which was in early September. Still, there was no way I could rent a place right now–even in a house full of people–andpay that now-owed tuition.
I sniffed. If Austin hadn’t promised to pay for this year, I never would have chosen to transfer to NYIT.
Dropping out wasthe obvious answer. Realistically, it would be better for me to stay and play my last year. I’d focus, find an agent, win another title for NYIT, and finish my degree.
Somehow.
Leaving the subway, I hurried down the street, running late for my shift. It was a good thing Tony said I could store my stuff at the rink. After years of working there, I knew all the good places. My community college team had practiced and had our games there, which was how I’d gotten to know Tony.
My Knights badge would get me even better places, safer places, as well as food and showers. Coach Kirov had given me summer access, and I knew where Chef kept the snacks.
Tony hadn’t said Icouldn’tstoremyselfthere. I spent so much time at the rink no one would notice. I’d put in even more time there instead of picking up another waitressing job.
Slipping in through the back door, I made my way to the staff locker room. I shoved my bag in my locker and hid the box in the supply closet with the other few things I’d already stashed. Then put on my rink uniform.
One thing I’d also done this past week was a lot of soul searching. Like what would my nonna advise?
The last time I saw her she said, “Even when you spread your wings, don’t forget your roots. They don’t stifle you, they just lead you home when you’re lost”.
That’s what I needed to do; find my way home on the ice and go back to my roots. Because I felt lost. Adrift. I’d gotten so wrapped up in Austin, and everything else, that I’d forgotten what mattered most.
You were good once.Austin was right. Sure, stats didn’t lie, but I’d buried a lot of what had once made me special out of fear.
It was time to find it again. Find her.Bring the sauce,as my nonna’s neighbors always told me–that thing that made you special on the ice.
“You’re late.” Tony eyed me as I clocked in.
“Sorry.” I hustled out to the snack bar.
Yeah, I’d find it. Right after work.
In the breakroom, I stuffed nachos in my face, replying to Carlos that yes, I was going to his mom’s for dinner tomorrow. I loved Carlos’ mom; she made the best enchiladas. Often, she brought them to games for me when I was on EBUG duty.
Since PHL teams usually only had two goalies, our job was to step in foreitherteam should both of their goalies end up being sick, hurt, or otherwise unable to play. The Knights had three or four EBUGs that rotated, because we all played for our own teams, and one of us needed to be present at every home game. An EBUG going into play rarely happened. In my two years with the team, I’d never gone in.
Still, it was fun, and I learned a lot.
Usually, the EBUG on duty sat up in the press box, but they let me sit in the family section with the MASOs. Themates and significant others.While being in the press box was an experience, none of the MASOs were trying to pinch my ass, or making uncomfortable comments about how they couldhelp me with my career.
Also, it was fun to get to know the players’ families.
“Everything went okay yesterday at the financial aid office? Your team won thechampionships.You think they’d find more money for you?” Tony came over to me as I finished eating.
I took a sip of lime soda as I kept my emotions calm, so he didn’t smell the lie. Alphas had much better noses than betas. He didn’t need to know what happened with my tuition.
“They found some, which helps. Coach mentioned reaching out to alumni, but I’m not counting on that. They are getting me a new laptop though.” I couldn’t use Clark’s forever.
“Good. What about gear?” he prodded.
“The company that sponsors our team is replacing my gear that my ex destroyed.” I liked their hockey skates well enough, but I wasveryparticular about my goalie skates.
Also, I wasn’t a huge fan of how that company’s goalie gear fit me. Which was why Austin had gotten me goalie pads from Canadian Hockey Supply for my birthday–the ones he’d destroyed.
But hey, it was free and I wasn’t in a place where I could afford to be picky.
Part of why I was going over to Carlos’ mom’s was that he was going to help me try to get Austin’s graffiti off my good goalie mask.
“What about housing? Still not sure how you didn’t qualify for a student loan.” Tony frowned.
