I should laugh. But somehow, my three closest friends all being in committed, happy relationships doesn’t please me this minute. Don’t get me wrong, I’m normally very happy for them. Each and every one. They’re good guys. And I like all of their girls. Two of my friends are already hitched. I’m holding out that Zev will stay unmarried with me a little longer, though I can’t exactly call the man single. Rosalie’s got him wrapped around her finger.
I am happy for them.
I’m just not ready to be one of them.
“And now,” the announcer booms over the stadium speaker, “your Reno-Tesoro Red Taiiiils!”
We jog onto the field, ready to line up and wave as the starting lineup. I watch Callum as he crosses the line, one handpatting Margaret McCrae’s shoulder. She turns, her brown ponytail flicking to the side, and then she’s smiling at Cal.
She smiles.
It’s a pretty sight. One that might deceive lesser men into thinking she had a heart. Still, I’m surprised to see it. I was certain the woman had one expression:sour.
Callum nods. I can see his mouth moving as he speaks to her, and then the woman laughs.
She’s laughing?
Not possible.
Why is Callum talking to the enemy anyway?
That’s what I’m pondering when I run right into the Graveyard ahead of me.
“Oof!” Roman grunts and stumbles over his next two steps.
McCrae’s eyes find us with our small disturbance, and the smile Callum produced quickly falls into a glower.
“Do you have better things to look at than where you’re going?” Roman says.
“You’re just slow,” I say. “What’s up with Callum talking to McCrae? Hesmiledat her.”
“He’s captain.” Roman shrugs. “He’s just being cordial. He talks to all the refs. He’s probably welcoming her back.”
“What’s the point?” I gripe.
“Maybe he made a crack about her keeping you in line. I don’t know. Maybe if she’s smiling, she won’t be in the mood to shut you down with a card today. Have you never heard the saying, ‘You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar’?”
I grunt. “She doesn’t have good moods. She’s our ringmaster. Her joy comes from our mistakes.”
Roman snorts. “Are you serious? Tell me I never sounded as bitter as you.”
The Graveyard—we call him that for a reason. Though he has been dramatically less bad-tempered since Stella came backinto his life. Still, I stare at him. He knows she’s got it out for me. We all know it.
“Youareserious.” Roman huffs out a laugh, like I’m being silly. I’m not.
“She’s the worst.”
“She isn’t the worst,” he says. “Or have you forgotten Phillips? That guy called every little thing. He stopped the game whenever he got the chance. The power had gone to his head.”
“And she isn’t power hungry?” I say, gesturing to the middle of the field where the four refs for this game huddle.
Roman slaps my hand back to my side. “No. I think you’ve put more stock into her calls than is actually there.”
Strobing lights flash around the field, and I bite back my argument. Roman’s wrong on this.
“Tesoro,” the announcer sings. “Now for your starting lineup! Number three?—”
I jump in place, ready to get this game started, ready to run off some of this negative energy around me.
