My phone lights up with an incoming call from Annalise, and I press the green button to answer it. “Hey, Rosie.”
“Hey, Dimples. How did it go?” she says softly.
Despite the sour mood I’m in, hearing her voice puts a smile on my face.
“They fined me and suspended me for two games.” I sigh, raking my hand through my hair.
“Two games? That’s just cruel!”
“If Chandler weren’t injured, they’d probably have a better chance without me. If we lose these next two games, we have to win four in a row, and I don’t see that happening.” I exhale, the weight of defeat heavy in my chest.
“Don’t lose hope, Maddox. It may seem impossible, but I know you’re capable of making the impossible happen.”
I stare out the window, shaking my head. “I don’t know if I have any hope left, Annalise. Everything is so fucked. What if this person makes me throw the next game I play in? I don’t think they’ll stop until the NBA drops me.”
She lets out a heavy sigh on the other line. “I’m sorry, Maddox. I hate that this is happening to you.”
“Will you still be with me if I’m not an NBA player?”
She lets out a laugh, and I can picture her eyes rolling. “That’s not gonna happen, but don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be with you regardless of what your career is.”
“Even if it’s flipping burgers at In-N-Out?”
“Yes. I’m sure they’ll make you a manager in no time.”
I chuckle softly. “Do you have any plans when you get off work?”
“I actually made plans for us tonight. Meet me at my apartment at seven. Make sure you wear long pants, long sleeves, and closed-toe shoes.”
I scrunch my brows. “What the hell are we doing?”
“Just trust me.”
“Are we almost there?” I glance over at Annalise as we cruise down the highway.
Her eyes flick to her phone. “Yeah. You’re gonna take the next exit and then make a right on 27th Street.”
Annalise continues to direct me until we reach our destination. I park next to a grey building marked by a bold blue sign that reads Wreck It. A towering sledgehammer stands next to it.
“Is this one of those rage rooms?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah. I saw an ad for it the other day and thought it would be fun. I figured we could both use some de-stressing.”
Leaning forward, I pop a kiss on her lips. “You are the best.”
After we sign the waivers, the worker gives us hard hats and goggles and leads us to our rage room.
The room is filled with several different objects—monitors, game consoles, glass bottles, and more.
“Alright, so you have an hour. Feel free to use any of those objects”—the worker points to the side, where baseball bats, sledgehammers, and golf clubs line the floor—“but please, don’t use them on each other.”
Annalise gives him a smile. “I’ll try my best not to.”
The guy chuckles. “Have fun!”
Grabbing a glass bottle, I chuck it against the wall. A small wave of relief washes over me seeing it shatter into hundreds of pieces.
Annalise picks one up too, and a smile tilts her lips when she smashes it.
