When a weary college student accidentally summons the ghost of an arrogant billionaire, she hesitantly agrees to help solve his dark disappearance, but discovering the truth entails bidding farewell.
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Lake Larson
I ran across campus in the chilly fall weather. The icy air froze over the evening, masking with hazy clouds into the night sky. Cheesy Halloween decorations flattened on the frost-bitten grass, ready to be stored for another year. The lights above blinked on as I jogged to a stop before opening the locker room door.
A girl from the club team walked out of the door. She glanced at me with tear-filled eyes.
"Sorry," she mumbled before running off.
I watched her jog away, using her sleeve to wipe her face. With my hand on the door, the warm air from inside floated around my ears. I rushed by the showers toward the lockers, smelling body odor and bleach.
The Eastern Washington women's team had the end of the season sneaking up on us, and I was grateful for it to be over. High school soccer was my favorite thing when I played with my best friend Alex, but unfortunately, she did not attend EWU with me. If I didn't get a full scholarship to the university based on my skills, I would have quit in my first year. The girls on the team were more focused on their appearance than winning.
Spinning the lock on my locker, I opened the metal door, seeing the soccer bag I had left that morning.
"Ladies, look, Lake got a haircut!" a high-pitched devil voice yelled, silencing the locker room.
I looked at Gabby, who was already smiling in my direction. Her fake grin matched her copy personality. Gabby's black ponytail pulled so tight that her forehead tugged her brows higher from her dark eyes. Her perfect body swayed closer to me as she placed her hand on her hip.
Everyone glanced at us before returning to getting ready for practice. Gabby huffed in annoyance because her audience lacked attention at her mocking personality. She looked around, mad at the idea that nobody wanted to play her game, causing her to glare at me and stomp out of the locker room.
I quickly stripped my shirt off, letting the dress material flop into my locker. My red sports bra and black shorts to match with my black and red cleats piled perfectly in my sports bag as I scooped them out.
Placing everything on, I soon realized my shirt was missing. I dug through my bag in a panic when my shirt for practice was not in sight. An image of it lying on my bed popped into my head, and I realized I had forgotten it.
"Crap," I whispered to myself, glancing around.
The locker room emptied fast while I watched the last girl race to the door.
"Hey, Jamie," I said, but she did not hear me before the door shut behind her.
I huffed out, glancing down at my sports bra. Practicing in this outfit would be standard to most, but I was not most, being uncomfortable with the exposure.
Without my choice, I jogged out of the locker room, racing up the hillside to the fields on the backside of the campus. I pulled my hair into a half ponytail and stretched my arms while fast walking to my teammates.
