“You’re right.” Skye nodded firmly. “Fosters aren’t afraid!”
Together, my little sisters jumped up and charged out from under the tent, shouting as loudly as they could.
“Roar!” they both bellowed as they ran across the living room and disappeared into the hallway. They returned a few moments later and started to shout, “We did it! The dragons are scared ofus.”
I played with my sisters for a while longer as Tessa prepared dinner. When my dad got home, he stuck his head into the living room to say a quick hello before he went into the kitchen to help. I could overhear him and Tessa talking and my ears pricked up when I caught mention of the Devils.
“It hasn’t been the best start,” my dad was saying. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do if tryouts don’t go well tomorrow.”
“Is the current goalie really that bad?”
I didn’t hear my dad’s response, so I had to assume he wassimply nodding his head.
“What about the boy who got injured? Will he be able to play again soon?”
“Ford’s out for at least six weeks. That might be enough time to improve Anderson a little, but we can’t afford to lose many more games if we’re going to make the playoffs.”
They both fell silent for a few moments before Tessa said, “I’m sure it’ll all work out. You always seem to find a way.”
She only got a grunt in response. I couldn’t work out how to feel after what I’d heard. My dad was desperately searching for a solution to his problem and was running out of options, yet he remained oblivious to the fact there was a perfectly good one sitting in the next room. Okay, maybe I wasn’t aperfectoption, but I was an option. At least, I would be if he was able to stomach the idea of me in hockey gear.
“Kenzie, you’re not playing,” Daisy whined, nudging me from my thoughts.
I didn’t hear any more hockey talk coming from the kitchen after that, and there was none at dinner, but I was still eager to get to my room once I’d finished eating. Mitts was lying on my bed as I entered, licking one of her bright white paws. I smiled at how cute she looked but only received an irritated huff in reply.
“I’m sorry, did I interrupt you?”
Her judgmental side-eye told me everything I needed to know.
There was a loudtinkas something hit my window, making Mitts scamper out the door. It was probably just the wind or the branch of a tree. I dismissed the sound and went to grabmy paints. My mural still wasn’t finished, and all I wanted to do tonight was block out the rest of the world and work on it.
But thetinkcame again, louder this time, and not so easily ignored. I slowly approached the window to investigate, trying not to feel like the first victim in a trashy horror movie. It was dark outside, and when I reached the glass, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I was almost disappointed to see it wasn’t a serial killer standing on my front lawn. It was Parker Darling, with his arm lifted as though he was about to throw something.
I quickly opened my window. “What are you doing?”
“Throwing stones at your window.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to talk. Can you come out here?” He whispered the last bit and glanced around the lawn cautiously.
“No,” I hissed. “Go away.”
“Just for a minute?”
“Not going to happen.”
“Please?”
“Go home, Parker.”
He grinned up at me, then disappeared from view. I leaned out the window and looked down to see him grabbing the latticework that ran up the front of the house.
“Now what are you doing?”
It only took him a few seconds to scale the wall and reach my window. And his grin had only grown on the way up. “I said I want to talk to you,” he repeated, one hand now on the windowsill.
“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” I slid the window firmlyshut and stepped away.
