“Today. She told us during warm-ups. Sounds like the father is a real piece of work.”
I scoff. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Which is why if you’re in this, you need to bein this.” Grace narrows her eyes once more.
“I’m in this. I’ll do whatever it takes. I just don’t know how to cross this bridge into something more.”
She ponders for a moment. “I’ll help you. We can set up a meeting or something and come up with a plan. How does that sound?”
Trigg and Calvin lean over at the same time.
“What are we talking about?” Calvin asks, his brows raising curiously.
Trigg echoes the question.
Grace offers the guys a sly smile. “Operation Ruin The Friendship.”
17
MOMMY ISSUES
LYDIA
Ismooth my hands over my black skirt, hoping it’s nice enough for my mother. My rust-orange sweater is tucked into the skirt. It’s not extremely fancy, but it’ll do. I have tights under the skirt because I couldn’t be bothered to shave my legs, and it's chilly this morning. I’ll find a pair of nice shoes to help the outfit pop.
My hands shake as I run my hands over my shirt, and I pull the sleeve down in an attempt to cover the brace still on my left wrist. I’ve been nauseous all morning, and at this point, who knows if it’s from the baby, or the fear of meeting with my parents. Of course, my mother will have questions about what happened, and I don’t want to share my news until I’m ready.
My phone rings with an incoming FaceTime call from Fletcher. His face is dripping with sweat as he bends over, taking off his skates. He should already be on his way.
“Hey, are you leaving soon?”
He groans. “Nope. Practice went long, and now Coach called an emergency team meeting for some reason. I don’tthink it’ll take long, but you should drive separately in case I don’t make it home on time.”
A speck of fear digs into my chest. “You’re still coming, right?”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise,” he says, determination strong in his voice. He glances up at the screen, looking at me for the first time. There’s a long silence.
“What?” I ask, my voice growing higher. Is my outfit horrible, or is my hair wrong? “Oh god, I look awful, don’t I?”
I prop my phone against the wall, trying to fix my curls. I can’t look like this. My mom will freak.
“Wait, no!” he blurts, halting my motions. “You look incredible. That’s all. I couldn’t form words.”
I let out an awkward chuckle, trying to play off the swirling butterflies in my stomach. “Oh, you mean the sheen of sweat from nausea?”
Fletcher shakes his head, and he shifts on the bench. “You’re beautiful, Lydi. Absolutely stunning. But to answer your question, yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Thank god. I really don’t want to do this alone. I absolutely can, but Fletcher is my biggest support, and my parents won’t be as harsh on me if someone else is present. At least I don’t think they will.
“Okay,” I say. “Thanks. I appreciate you.”
“Right back at you. I gotta go, but I’ll text you when I’m on my way, okay?”
I agree, and we hang up, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Maybe I shouldn’t tell them today. I mean, I’m still early on in this pregnancy. You never know what could happen.
No, I have to tell them. They’re going to be gone for a month, and I should tell them this in person.
I sigh and check the time on my phone. I have to leave in fifteen minutes to make it to the restaurant on time. After finishing my hair and makeup, I slip into my shoes and pull on my favorite wool peacoat before leaving.
