Page 8 of Forbidden Puck
Of course, it doesn't help that I spend all my time working. Back when I was in school, I couldn't wait to get out and go into business for myself. And it reallyisamazing, being my own boss. And I do very wellfor myself. But lately, I find myself wondering—what's the point? What's the point of all this work, if I can't actually enjoy the fruits of my labor? Why do I blow off my friends, every time they call wanting to get together and hang out, just so I can worksome more instead?
Keep treating your friends like that, and soon they'll stop calling.Ask me how I know!
Just then, my private pity party was interrupted by a buzzing; thebzzt-bzztof an iPhone-on-glass. I snatched my phone from the coffee table, wondering if my guardian angels had heard my laments and delivered some evening plans for the night …!
But I groaned when I saw it was a text from my brother Lance instead.I opened it and read.
“Sup Honey Badger?”
Honey badger: that's my nickname in the family. I don't love it, but I don't hate it, either. (If you've seen the YouTube video about the honey badger, you'll understand. If not, well, I'll explain more later.)
I tapped out a reply. “Just being super cool and hanging out by myself on a Friday night. What's up with you?”
“LOL, loser. Hey, what are you up to this weekend? I moved into a new condo in Boston this season with Radar. You should come visit! I'll be home for a week, so you can stay as long as you like!”
Red flags started going off in my head.
“And why do you want me there?” I replied.
“Uhhh, because you're my sister? And I love you?”
“Uh huh.”
“Look, do you wanna come or not?”
I started tapping out my reply: “I'd love to, but I have to work.” But before I hit send, I stared at those words. The same words that I wasjustcomplaining about, because they cost me my social life.
Then again: spending a week with mybrother?Surrounded by his hockey friends, who werejustas bad as he was, if not worse?
Oh, what the hell, Ella,I thought to myself.Why not? It'll help you forget about Key West and you haven't seen your brother in a while. Just do it.
Besides. My bag was already packed. After the blow-up with Matthew, I never had the heart to unpack it.
I texted him back: “Short notice, isn't it? And who is 'Radar,' anyway?”
“My teammate. Look, I need a yes or a no, Ella.”
“Gosh, you sure are persuasive. But yeah, I can come for a few days. I actually had plans for a vacation, but they fell through. Womp womp, sadface.”
“Holy shit. You sure? You're not gonna change your mind at the last minute like you always do, right?”
“Yes, I'm sure. Don't make a big deal out of it. So which flight should I take?”
“Check your e-mail inbox.”
Just as he sent that text, my phone chimed to announce a new e-mail. I opened it and saw the itinerary, a ticket to Boston departing tomorrow evening, bought and paid for.
“You didn't have to do that,” I texted Lance. “I've got money. I can pay for my own stuff.”
“Hey, don't mention it,” he replied, and I could justhearhim saying that in his sarcastic-as-hell voice.
“… Thanks,” I texted back.
“I'll send a car to pick you up at Logan Airport. By the way, if you got any hot roommates, I'll buy them a ticket too.” Insert creepy super-happy-winky-emoji.
I groaned, and said aloud to Eucalyptus, “really? Lance thinks that's funny, even after the thing with Quinn?”
Eucalyptus sat in the corner and gave me a strange look, as if he were regarding this entire development with skepticism.
