Page 15 of The Play Maker

Maybe.

God, she’s annoying. And frustrating. And somehow the most interesting person I’ve talked to in forever.

She might like the mystery, but I don’t. I’ve never liked surprises. I’m the guy who looks up movie spoilers before watching. So yeah, this whole anonymous thing? It’s killing me.

Me:

Anything else you can tell me?

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling as I glance around. Ryan and Isabella are across the room, laughing, her hands on his chest, his on her hips. Then he cups her face and kisses her.

I remember when those two were sneaking around for months. They thought they were so slick. They weren’t. I clocked Ryan’s dumbass heart eyes the first time he looked at her. See? I’m not dumb all the time.

My phone buzzes in my hand, pulling me back.

Cherry:

Doesn’t seem fair that you get to know two things about me, and I don’t know anything about you.

I chuckle, typing out a reply.

She doesn’t realize it, but she already knows more than most people do. Everyone else gets the jokes, the cocky grins, the life-of-the-party guy who never shuts up. But her? I kinda want her to know more. To know the thoughts in my head that I don’t tell anyone else.

Me:

You can ask me anything you want, Cherry.

Cherry:

What’s one thing you can’t live without?

Easy. Hockey. No doubt about it.

My thumbs hover over the keyboard. It’s my first instinct. But I can’t say that. We agreed to no specific details. And if I tell her, that’s all she’ll see. That’s all everyone ever sees. The hockey guy. The athlete. The guy who’s only worth something when he’s scoring goals.

But she doesn’t look at me like that. She doesn’t evenknowme like that. And I like that she likesme.

I pause for a second before typing the real answer.

Me:

My family. I don’t know what I would do without them.

I set the phone down for a second, my mind drifting to Scarlett and Mom.

Scarlett’s probably at home, messing with Mom just for fun. She’s a little shit sometimes, but she’s got the biggest heart. I remember the first time I taught her how to skate, how stiff she was, arms flailing, like Bambi on ice.

God, I miss them like crazy. The smell of coffee in the morning, Mom in the kitchen, half-dressed for work, always in a rush but never too busy to give me a hug before she left. Even when she was dead on her feet, she still made time for us. She always did.

My phone buzzes, breaking me out of my thoughts.

Cherry:

Damn, I thought you were gonna say me. I’m offended now.

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. She might be joking, but she’s not wrong. I don’t know what I’d do without these texts. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but she’s already a constant in my life, something I look forward to every day.

And apparently, I’ve been too busy smiling at my phone like an idiot, because next thing I know, someone smacks the back of my head.