Page 82 of Wrong Pucking Player

Whether I’m questioning my worth because I’m an orphan with no rich family heritage to my name or fighting to ensure no one knows just how poor I am in this small ass town where the talk spreads like wildfire, it makes me feel like I’m constantly dealing with fight-or-flight mode. Desperate to protect my image and the bits of reputation I have that don’t bring up my past and what sad circumstances I’m in.

No real family.

Only one close friend.

No one to really rely on when in a financial crunch.

Heck, I just left a hotel because I know the man I absolutely loved for years isn’t ready for commitment because I’m fucking poor.

A disgrace to his elite family.

A drop of water falls onto the glowing screen which dims a second later.

Followed by another.

Until the booming sound of thunder echoes from the sky above.

Despite the first droplets of rain that hit my bare flesh, I can’t help but stand there, tears blurring my vision as I question what the fuck I’m doing.

Am I going to be stuck in this cycle forever?

This was why I left.

The suffocating feeling of being worthless in such a small town that monitored my every move. Despite wanting to prove to all of them that I could succeed, I couldn’t continue walking the path I was on.

Walking on eggshells with my aunt’s continuous criticism.

Walking on eggshells with my relationship with Wyatt.

Walking on eggshells with everyone comparing my life to my best friend’s.

Walking on eggshells knowing I’ll never know who I could have been if my family didn’t just throw me away…

“What are you fucking doing Mackenzie?” I quietly whisper to myself and fight off a sob.

I blink away more tears, muffling a few sobs as I look at my phone and debate on who to call now.

I can’t afford to go home by Uber, Taxi, or any type of transportation.

Mikayla is probably asleep with Maddox.

No way can I call Coach Cyrus or Coach Johnson.

And definitely would never call my aunt for aid in such a humiliating way.

Walking back to re-enter the suite would simply be impossible, and even if the girl had a hint of sympathy, Wyatt would wake up and confront me as to why I ditched, to begin with.

My eyes land on the only name that doesn’t make me feel like the world is so daunting at this moment.

Armani…

Biting my bottom lip, I take a shaky breath and press his name. The phone begins to ring, and I hold my breath hoping he’ll actually give me a chance and answer.

Only a soft ringtone comes from behind me.

All I can do is slowly turn around, just as the ringing stops as the line is answered.

“What, Andrews?”

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