Page 8 of Wrong Pucking Player

At least he did…

Until the accident…

That was all my fault…

“The moment he says he loves your blonde locks, you’re a goner,” Mikayla hums as she hooks her arm around mine. “My sweet Xandra with her blonde hair and gorgeous aquamarine eyes.” Mikayla’s imitation of him makes me laugh again.

“Shut up!”

“You’d become a puddle and probably fail at speaking English! You’d go straight Russian. No, Gaelic even.”

I knew five languages, but English, Russian, and Gaelic were my fortes. I specifically learned Gaelic just to insult Jayce, knowing damn well he understood me.

King of Douches.

“Alright, alright. Back on you being scolded.” I shift the conversation, which makes Mikayla’s shoulders drop.

“No!” I love when she’s so dramatic. It makes life with her far more fun. “Distract my dad more, so I don’t get in trouble.”

Coach Johnson just stares at the both of us before he shakes his head and descends the ladder.

“Come downstairs already,” he encourages. “I’m sure you’re both hungry.”

“Score!” we cheer.

I let go of Mikayla’s arm to run over to the attic entrance to see Coach Johnson running a hand through his short, brown locks.

“Admit it. Red looks stunning on your daughter!”

Coach Johnson peers up at me, acknowledging my wide grin, which only makes him roll his eyes.

“Sadly,” he concludes and begins to walk away while muttering, “it makes her look like her mother.”

My heart dips a little at the reminder of the stunning woman who was in Mikayla’s life at every chapter of her youth.

Until she faded away.

“What did he say?” Mikayla asks just as I turn away to see her nervous grin. “Does he really hate it?”

“Nah.” I give her a genuine grin, hoping to hide the hint of sadness that I feel within my heart. “He admitted it actually looks good on you.”

She sighs in relief. “Thank goodness.”

I know despite all the ups and downs my best friend has endured in life, her dad’s approval is really important to her. I guess when you only have one parent left, everything they say and comment about really means a lot more than when you have both.

As if I’d ever know what it was like…

I clap my hands together, attempting to cheer myself from going down that depressed rabbit hole of my traumatic past. I’ve told myself that when I’m with Mikayla, I’ll always be my happy, free self.

She was always the light I needed to be cheery. I fought to ensure it stayed that way. No matter what.

“Let’s go eat some good food!”

“I-I should at least clean, shouldn’t I?” Mikayla is looking around, her eyes specifically landing on her bathroom that’s the ultimate crime scene.

Could make plenty of TikTok and Reels to promote a crime thriller book if you wanted to.

“Later,” I emphasize. “I know your OCD is going to say otherwise, but let’s not upset your dad with our tardiness.”

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