Page 17 of Wrong Pucking Player

His way of showing love, affection, and support may be different from the average father figure, but I could tell he really did care about me as though I was just an addition to his offspring.

“Alex? Is that you?”

I’m already frowning at her response.

“Yes, it’s Mackenzie, Auntie.” Can’t you just call me by the name I’m most comfortable with? “I read your text and was worried aboutthe importance of the message.”

“Oh!” She gasps. “I overheard from the administrators at your university that internship results were being sent out and was intrigued whether you’d gotten yours yet.”

The way my shoulders slump at the ‘importance’ of her text really proves how disappointed I felt. I bet if I looked in the mirror, my reflection would display a scowl of distaste.

She’s probably hoping for some sort of money to flow in.

“Ah. I haven’t actually heard anything yet,” I admit. “Maybe I’ll pass by my place and check the mail.”

“That would be lovely,” she tries to sound positive, but I can read the sound of her voice.

Impatience.

“Was there anything else that was of importance?” I ask.

It’s already clear she’d been spying on me in any shape or form. Using her vast connections in this small ass town to get information and updates about my life when I don’t feed it to her through the phone.

I can’t even remember the last time we met in person.

It’s a shame that I continue to try to paint a good image of her to the rest of the world. Even Mikayla doesn’t know the extent of how bad my aunt really is.

Wyatt and Coach Cyrus know…

“Well, I was also curious if you applied for any scholarships this year or funding?” she inquires with a perky voice that’s far too cheery for my taste.

Especially revolving around the potential flow of money that should be going into my account. Not hers.

“Well, with me already graduating, there aren’t any scholarships I can really apply for,” I confess. “I did apply to all those various funding programs and some grants for graduates but haven’t heard anything yet.”

“Ah, well… that’s interesting.”

She’s not pleased.

“You’re still using the same bank account we set up for you, yes?”

“The joint one I’ve had since sixteen?” I feign innocence when I know that’s exactly the one she’s referring to.

The one she stalks every damn day to ensure I’m not getting some extra money from somewhere.

“Yes, that one! I’m glad you’re still using it. I’ve noticed there hasn’t been any money in it for a few months. Did you quit that part-time job you used to do at the gym?”

My part-time position that Oliver got for me.

“Ah, no. I had to pause going there because of the exams and how hard the final year in nursing was. Remember, I was doing the fast-track route with Mikayla, so I couldn’t really juggle the job, too. It was getting to be too much, so they allowed me a few months off, but I doubt the position is available any longer. It’s been almost a year.”

This was partially a lie.

I’m still employed at Muscle Pump Life Fitness, but I was lucky they were taking a year break for major renovations of their Strattonville location. Despite that, Oliver, who sponsored the fitness gym’s expansion, and Leo, one of the top trainers and co-founders of the gym, agreed to let me come in whenever I could to do little things and still pay me what I’d been making working part-time.

Paperwork, bookkeeping, anything that was easy to do without much office space while the gym was torn apart and rebuilt.

I was paid cash, and I’d stored that money until I had enough to input into an American account I managed to open when I went with Mikayla on her family trip to Hawaii. Whenever I saved a thousand dollars, I’d give it to Coach Cyrus who would then wire the money from his account into that American account.

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