Page 63 of Bad Wolf
He lifts another ping pong ball out of the jar and it’s a W. Wren steps forward and I cross my arms over my chest. There’s no way she’s beating me.
“Okay, Wren. Here goes. As many questions as you can in twenty seconds. You can pass though if you don’t know. You haven’t been here for very long.”
She swallows. “Got it.”
“What was the name of Scott’s lucky goalie stick?”
“Oh, Avril!”
“Yep. What is my favorite ice cream?”
“This week it’s been chocolate fudge.”
“Correct. What is Knox’s favorite TV show?”
“It used to be Friday Night Lights and…now…I think maybe…Stranger Things will be up there too?”
I roll my eyes as my blood starts to heat. Stranger Things is currently everyone’s favorite TV show. The score on that series is epic.
“I’ll take Friday Night Lights.”
“Okay, another Knox question. What’s his worst fear?”
She levels me with a stare, “A coach asking him to play on the right.”
The buzzer sounds and I’ve had just about enough. I lift my phone out of my pocket and answer a call that’s not really there.
“Hey. Yeah, oh no really? I’m kinda busy.” I give a few seconds nodding.
“Well, okay then, if you really need me to. I will.” I end the fake call.
“Sorry kid, gotta run.” I ruffle his hair. “I’ve missed some bits of media training and they want me to do it right now.”
“Aww, but we didn’t even get to the best part.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
Jason calls me a dick under his breath, but I shake it off. Eight sets of eyes watch me leave, but I need to get out of here. Casey tries to follow me, but I send him a glare and he stays where he is.
She thinks she still knows me. Thinks she can just waltz back into my life like nothing happened. Like she didn’t do the most awful thing.
I’m so done.
* * *
My friend, sleep, and I have become estranged, and I don’t remember the last time I was able to get a full eight hours.
Bleary-eyed and feeling like shit, I make my way to the bathroom, take a leak and switch the shower on. Even that’s a chore. I won’t be able to get the job done without at least a few gulps of coffee, so I turn the water off and head to the kitchen.
Jase is already leaning on the kitchen island, coffee in hand, staring intently at the TV mounted on the far wall blasting highlights from last night’s games. I’d be just as engaged if I wasn't so damn tired.
He takes me in and shakes his head. “Why you still doing this to yourself, man? Just fucking talk to her, already. Then maybe you’ll be able to sleep instead of pacing around here in the middle of the night. If nothing else, it might give you some peace. Trust me, no one needs an over-tired Knox on top of grumpy asshole.”
I roll my eyes.
“It’s started affecting your game. You need to hear what she has to say. It’s important.” He stares at me for a moment, his hand raising to his hair, but he fights the urge and places it on the counter instead.
He’s worried, and pulling on his hair is a tick he’s had since he was a kid. It makes me feel really shitty. But what am I supposed to do? Pretend all my siblings haven’t gone behind my back?