Like, if she can’t stand me, you’ll take her side (as you should!).
Me
You know you’re her idol, right?
H.E.
I’m nervous!
Me
I’ll take to her this afternoon.
H.E.
Please report back.
Me
You’re going to be anxious all day, aren’t you?
H.E.
I don’t think you understand how important a teenage girl’s opinion is. They’re brutally honest.
Me
Oh, I’m well aware. Two nights ago, Liv told me my hair is starting to turn gray at the temples.
H.E.
I could dig the silver fox look.
Me
Noted.
March turns to April,and with it, the last two weeks of the regular season arrive. We’ve held on to a playoff spot, sitting pretty at second in the East and first in the Metropolitan division. Practices amp up. The guys are exhausted, and so am I, but I spend hours in my office studying lineups. I stay up late watching footage of our weaker games so I can address any persistent issues before the playoffs starts, and I don’t know where the hell this year has gone.
No one is expecting us to make a deep run. With Maverick’s intermittent playing time this season and our slow start in October and November, we’ve already been written off.
I’ve always liked being an underdog, and hearing analysts throw out words likeluckyandeasy scheduleabout our year only fuels the boys’ fire with their training efforts.
I shut my laptop and press my palms into my eyes knowing Liv is on her way up. Kali is dropping her off after her skating lesson, and I should figure out what we’re going to have for dinner.
“I’m home!” Liv calls out. There’s a loud thump from the foyer and the slam of the front door. “Mom says hi!”
“I say hi back,” I answer, rising and stretching my shoulders. “How was school? And skating?”
“I’m up to the first forty-five seconds of my choreography! Hannah said she was proud of my double Axel, which makes me very happy because I’ve been working on that formonths.” She climbs on a barstool at the island and accepts the glass of chocolate milk I hand her way. “School sucks. Algebra blows, and I really don’t see how anyone uses it in their daily life.”
“Olivia Elliot.” I sigh. “Can we watch the word choices, please? Your principal already called me once this semester to let me know your vocabulary was… colorful.”
“What’s wrong with colorful? This world is too dreary.”
“Nothing. I’d just prefer if people didn’t think I walked around the house only using four-lettered words.”
“You kind of do,” she says, and I huff. “I will do better with not beingsoprofane.”
