Gio walks over, licking her face.
“Are you kidding me?” The man recording asks. “This shit is gold.”
“Not for me!”
He shrugs.
“Can someone get the goat off me, please?”
Emy walks over and pulls Gio away. “While today is the last weekend for the Annual Chawton Falls in Love with Jane Austen Festival, there’s still time to buy your tickets for Christmas at Pemberley, a fun recreation of a regency Christmas at Wentworth Mansion. Tickets available online!”
Behind her, Veronica tries to get up but manages another slip.
Feeling merciful, I walk over to the guy recording and put my hand on his. “I think that’s enough,” I whisper. He shrugs and finally ends the recording.
By the time I turn back to Veronica, she’s covered in mud and on the verge of tears. I sigh. I know what my Memere would want me to do in this situation, and I’m realizing it’s not a weakness. It’s a strength.
“Come on, I have some dry clothes in the tent.” I lend her my arm, and she grabs it. “Do you like tea? You must be freezing in that.”
“Tea sounds amazing. Thank you,” she whispers, wiping back a tear. “He was right. You really are extraordinary.”
ChapterThirty-Nine
Jack Parker
Play:Slow Show by the National
“Glad to have you back, Parker.” Coach Tidwell slaps my back in the Philly Away Team locker room. “Hell of a game out there.”
“Thanks. It felt good.” I lie. After the last week I’ve had, a two-goal gameshouldfeel like a relief, but—there’s a hollowness in my chest that hockey isn’t touching. I haven’t been able to contact Aulie since Veronica’s video posted last night. Her messages are undelivered, and I’m being sent to voicemail when I call. I can’t tell if she blocked me that fast…or what. But something in my gut tells me she wouldn’t do that to me without giving me a chance to explain myself.
Either way, it lit a fire of frustration in my chest that made it so I could finally play out of my freaking night tonight. So if she is mad at me, at least I’ve got that going for me.
Not that I want it.
Powering on my phone, I tell myself not to read too much into it if she hasn’t texted me back. We have two days off starting tomorrow that I was planning on spending at home with an ice bag before a long road trip, but maybe I can drive up and see her instead.
A few texts populate. One is from Aulie, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Kitten
Hey, SO sorry. I should have told you I was powering my phone down for the day. Feel free to call me when you get home. Good luck tonight! I hope you kick butt.
The timestamp says it was sent five hours ago, and the text doesn’t super read like she wants to hurt me, so …this is good.
We don’t have WiFi on our plane where I can text her, but luckily, Philly isn’t that far of a flight. We had an afternoon game, and we’re leaving immediately so that we can sleep in our beds.
Jack
Sounds excellent. I’ll talk to you soon.
A shrill voice screeches in the locker room. God, I’ve heard enough of Veronica’s voice to last a lifetime. I’ll never forgive her if she ruined what I have with Aulie. “Yo, Parker, you need to get a look at your girl.” Wes laughs.
“She’s not—” I turn to correct Wes because there’s no way I’m letting this rumor spread.
He shoves a video of Veronica in my face, but the immediate background takes me off guard.
Familiar rolling hills sit in the back, with a crowd and a backdrop of Wentworth Mansion, that I know well.
