"She cheated on me. He cheated on you. What do you say? Want to settle the score?"
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Kate Wilson, a hot-headed Dragon striker, and Rosie Connelly, an uncredited behind the scenes Sea Lion captain; witness Kate's...
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It didn't matter how far I stuck my head out of the bathroom window or how much I begged, bribed, or threatened the orange cat to come back inside: nothing worked. Carmilla hung out in the neighbor's gutter, tiptoed to the opposite end of the roof and leapt off into oblivion. The elderly woman who took a nap on the sunbed in the yard below the window did not appreciate my loud, "No!"
I sat at the edge of the bath with my face between my hands. Maybe I should call Rosie back to tell her what happened. How would she react? She'd remembered my jersey number after a full year had passed and knew which locker to prank. If that's how far she was willing to go over her ex—how far would she go to avenge her cat?
It was impossible to predict. Which left one option: I'd have to go cat-hunting after chaperoning Eduardo's date.
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Izzy dropped her brother and me off at the Game Junction Arcade before she went to work her shift at the Splash N' Bash waterpark.
My dad used to bring me here one Saturday a month growing up. He'd called them 'date nights.' The rows of machines, the glowing screens, the revving engines, and chiming pings from pinball games brought me back to a time when I had been a giddy kid whizzing through the dusty old carpets while Dad fended off a headache from the flashing neon lights.
The ticket dispenser sat all the way to the back of the building; no doubt a strategy to encourage children to beg their parents for more money than needed. That's what I'd done, and it'd worked on my poor dad every time.
Eduardo bought me ten tokens as a 'thank you' for coming along without putting up a fight. The machine juddered and failed to produce the tokens on the first try, so he whacked it until tokens spat out onto the floor. He bent down and scooped them up. This place hadn't changed one bit.
The entrance's bell rang, catching my attention for a brief second, only for me to double-take. Not only did Dorothy glide across the room, but Rosie walked not far behind, one hand dug into her hoodie's pocket, and the other twirling a wisp of hair that fell loose from her hood.
It wasn't any hoodie. It was my dad's.
The so-called group hang with Dorothy's friends turned out to be an awkward double whatever with her sister. Izzy had already called me out for my hot-headedness around Rosie. She wouldn't have trusted me to chaperone if she knew Rosie would be here.
