“I had half an idea she was the flying kitten of death when I adopted her, but she was so cute, I didn’t care.”
If anyone who doesn’t know the game were listening in, they’d likely think we’d been dipping into edibles.
“I never adopt anything,” he says. “I’m afraid it’ll eat me in my sleep.”
“That’sthe whole point. And why we have unlimited lives.” Half the fandom is lobbying for an option to die so many times that you get to be a ghost for a day, but so far, the creators aren’t having it. I’m holding out hope though.
“I can handle it if I drown or if my slingshot malfunctions and takes out my eye, but there’s something about being eaten by a pet that doesn’t work for me.”
“You must’ve been a crazy old cat lady whose pets ate her after she died alone in a previous life.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Must’ve been. You feeling better?”
I blink once. Then again. “I am. Thank you.”
“Good. Time to ruin it. Sorry.”
He pulls out his phone, thumbs over the screen, and then slides it in front of me.
Athletes’ Auction Breaks Record and Brings the Drama.
I take another gulp of coffee before setting the cup aside so I can use my good hand to scroll.
Auction opened as normal, blah blah. Decent food. Levi Wilson made a great emcee. Blah blah blah.
But the real excitement began when Addie Bloom, batting coach for the Fireballs, stepped on stage draped in a pink dress with a matching sling that she’s been sporting for unknown reasons. The sassy L’Addie and her quick mouth on stage sparked a bidding war that ended with the unexpectedly feminine coach fetching the highest price of the evening, beating even an offering from pop star Waverly Sweet and her husband, future baseball Hall of Famer Cooper Rock.
Adding to the unexpected, she was won not by a local real estate magnate twice her age, but by the captain of the Thrusters.
Is an afternoon of playing a second-rate video game truly worth over a hundred grand? Or is there something more going on here?
I shove the phone away. “Who cares what the gossips say?”
“It’s the lead headline on the paper’s website. Written by a sports guy.”
My fingers prickle.
So do my toes.
Will Santiago see that?
And Tripp and Lila?
Also— “‘Sassy L’Addie?’ What the actualfuck? That reporter should be fired.”
Duncan clears his throat. “The comments indicate people around Copper Valley have decided to call us…Daddie.”
I’m in my sixth season with the Fireballs. I’ve seen grown men launch glitter bombs in locker rooms. Use jock straps as slingshots to send plush mascots flying at each other. There’s a hat that makes its rounds in the locker room every year with a stuffy attached that looks like a dick and balls, thanks to the mascot contest management ran my first season with the team, when they tried to convince the city thatMeaty the Flaming Meatballshould be the Fireballs’ new mascot. More than once,we’ve been subjected to the entire team wearing mascot thongs over their pants.
It takes a lot to make me gape in disbelief.
But I’m actually speechless as I stare at Duncan.
“I already called the Thrusters’ PR team to ask what they can do about it.”
“Daddie?” I shriek loudly enough to re-spark my own headache. “Daddie. Oh my god. Do you know how this looks?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
