From: griffincaleb@gmail.com
To: skylarlodge@gmail.com
Subject: Therapy.
For real? They must be assholes.
How did it make you feel to find out that your childhood was a lie and what did you do afterwards?
~~~~~~~
"How in the world are you looking like that after last night?" Mark grumbles.
"Maybe because I didn't drink as if yesterday was the last day I was going to live," I shrug as I open the gate to the ice rink of the hockey arena.
"So loud," he grumbles at the loud screeching the gate produces.
"Didn't you take medicine in the morning for the hangover?"
"Iced coffee," he shakes the coffee in his hands.
I shake my head at his choice of hangover reliever and walk over to the benches.
"Let's start by some laps before we get into hockey," I suggest dropping my duffle bag.
"I swear to God I don't know why I thought joining you for hockey practice on a Saturday morning after getting drunk would be a good idea," Mark continues to grumble as we make our laps.
"How long has it been since you were last on the ice?" Mark asks after our laps are done.
"A few years,"
"A few years? And you expect to be good by next weekend?"
"Not good. Just better for an out of retirement," I joke.
"Let's start with some shots,"
We spend hours shooting the puck till Mark has to leave.
"I gotta go. I have some things to get too," Mark says.
"Okay see you later,"
I continue practicing before I remember I have some to meet up with Mrs. Smith and head to locker rooms.
"Fuck!!" I curse at the shower as it stops while I am still lathered in soap.
"I swear this world hates me for real," I grumble as I reach for the towel to wipe the foam of my face.
I check all the stalls but nothing is working. I debate just wiping myself clean but the thought that I might be in the kitchen for the rest of the day, cancels that thought. And walking like this all the way to my dorm room on the other side of campus just won't do.
Wrapping my towel tight around me, I sneak my way into the male locker room.
"No one is around, I will just take a quick shower and head out," I tell myself as I get started on the shower.
I am almost done and out of the showers when someone starts speaking in the locker rooms.
"I can't get benched this season," the voice says before taking a pause.
"This is the season I get drafted and that can't happen if I am benched,"
He pauses again. I figure that he must be talking on the phone. I wrap my towel and take my things ready to sprint at the slightest of opportunity.
"Yeah I am thinking of getting a tutor," he continues, his voice getting closer.
"He must be coming in here. Think Skylar. Think of a way out," I mutter to myself.
I hide behind the curtains waiting for him to walk far into the shower so I can sprint out.
"Talk later grandpa. Love you," he ends the call.
Sneaking a look I find him facing the other way. Taking the opportunity I slip out only for my leg to slip on the soap I dropped and fall down.
"Shiiit!!" A voice yells from under me
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry,"I tried to apologize.
"You have very nice boobs... Super perky pressed against my chest," he comments.
Making me notice that my towel slipped open when I fell and I was currently on top of him naked.
"Sicko," I accuse blushing furiously as I pick myself off the floor holding my towel tight and race out of there.
*****
"You finally decided to make it," Mrs. Smith greets.
"Sorry, had shower issues at the arena,"
"Didn't ask,"
Rude much.
"What have you decided?"
"I will do a project and take on the baking class,"
"Marvelous. The baking class you will be with Mrs.Grayson, find her to give you a way forward," she says, making her way to leave the kitchen.
"And the project?"
"One must learn to market their skills so as to be successful in whichever field of their choosing. For the project, choose a skill, harness and make it pay. I will send you an email of the guidelines you are to follow," and she is out of the door before I can ask anything.
You around campus?
Amelia texts as I head back to FSCH.
Yeah . I shoot back.
Drop by at Yaya's rn?
Sure.
I reply heading there, my stomach already grumbling at the thought of food.
Walking into the diner I easily spot Amelia's bright orange bow on top of her head, and I am quite sure she has paired it with her white dress decorated with poppy flowers.
She is seated at the far end corner booth, in the arms of a good-looking guy I assume to be the one she was with yesterday and just the thought of it has my sun-kissed skin turning a brighter shade.
On the opposite side facing the door, Mark occupies the seat alone. A guy whose face I can't see is seated next to Amelia's guy.
The diner is almost empty save for a couple near the window and another close to the register working on some school work, I presumed.
"Finally you made it. I was about to eat your chips," Mark announces the second he sees.
"Nice to see you too," I sass sliding into the booth next to him.
"Hey," I greet the rest, my eyes trained on the chips masala before taking a bite and moaning at the deliciousness that spreads throughout my mouth.
"Pretty sure I can make that sound go higher," someone comments, making me look up only to see him.
I swear I am starting to think I am cursed at this point.
I ignore him and turn to Amelia, raising a brow.
"Was waiting for you to finish eating, but this is my boyfriend, Luca," she says, pointing at the guy she is pressed on, almost infusing themselves.
"Boyfriend?" I lean to Mark and whisper.
"They are on and off every other week," he whispers back.
"He is Mark's twin-," she continues.
"You have a twin?" I gasp.
"Yeah... Nothing major," he shrugs.
"I have a twin too," I say but not that enthusiastically.
"Really? I thought you were an only child," Amelia says.
"Nah. I have like five siblings," I say, sadness seeping into my voice.
I miss them.
"That's lit. And this is Caleb," she says pointing at him.
A cute name for a good-looking guy.
"This is my roommate Sky,"
"Sup," her boyfriend greets.
I nod in greeting because what in the world am I supposed to say to that?
"Sexy Sky," Caleb nods, eyeing me.
Again I ignore him and focus on my chips before it gets cold, but mostly to keep our encounter in the shower from flashing and turning my face into a tomato.
"So I remembered that I read from your files that you were majoring in Economics before the transfer right?" Amelia asks.
I gave her a nod to show I was following.
"And you had good grades?"
"Good grades? Hell no! She was nailing them classes. Top three in all her classes," Mark brags.
We all stare at him confused.
"How the hell do you know that?" His brother asks.
"I have my ways," he shrugs.
"Well... Caleb here needs an economics tutor-"
"What!" Both Caleb and I spurted at the same time.