Page 5 of Rookie Season
Harry is going to give me the silent treatment, I am sure.
“Hey,” Cora says as she comes up to stand beside me. “I hate to do this on your first day, but I have an audition across town in half an hour. Would you be able to wait with Paige?”
The child’s sad blue eyes turn on me accusingly, andalthough I have a million places to be hours ago, the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, “Of course.”
Accompanied by a bright smile.
Because the last thing I want is for Paige to feel like she’s a burden to me because her dad’s running late.
“Thanks girl, I owe you one,” Cora says as she shrugs on a velour zip-up hoodie, slings her dance bag over her shoulder, then ruffles Paige’s hair.
“See you, kiddo.”
“Bye Miss Cora,” Paige replies flatly.
I can tell it’s really bothering her that she’s the last one here, so I spend the next few minutes trying to cheer her up as we do some ridiculous dance moves together.
When I finally see a smile from her, I fish my phone out of my dance bag.
“Sorry, honey, I just need to send a quick message to my new roommate.”
I left Fisher a garbled voicemail on my way out of the Wendy’s bathroom earlier, letting him know I was running late and would now be coming to the apartment—which is actually a fancy penthouse loft—after I was done with orientation.
He texted me back a few minutes later, replying he was on his way into hockey practice right now, but that we’d connect later, and he was excited to see me.
Which I’m sure wasn’t exactly true—he was just saying it to be nice.
Archibald Fisher presents himself like he’s one of those rich, arrogant playboy-type of guys who doesn’t give a damn about anyone or anything but himself, but the guy has a heart of gold buried underneath all that swagger.
I’ve seen it firsthand.
And though I don’t know him super well, he’s been waymore of a friend to me than the people who used to call themselves my friends before everything that happened last spring.
“What’s a roommate, Miss Ally?” Paige peers up at me.
I sit down next to her. “A roommate is someone you live with who’s not part of your family. Like you share a house together, but you have your own room.”
“Oh! Like my Uncle Noah. He’s twenty-two years old.” She says this like being twenty-two makes a person an ancient, sage-like being.
“That’s very, very old,” I agree, matching her solemn expression.
“How old are you?”
“Also very old—almost twenty-one.”
“Wow!” She exclaims.
I laugh as I open my phone and find a new text from Fisher.
Fisher
Change of plans, we’re headed out for the night for drinks. Come join us! We’re at Mulligan's on York Street right now.
Allegra
Thanks for the offer, but I’m pretty beat. If it's okay, I’ll swing by there and grab my keys from you so I can move in, and we can catch up later?
Fisher
