Page 44 of Rebound
“And we all know who’s her favorite,” Holden says, sounding distracted.
“Kai,” they all say at the same time.
The goalie, huh?
“I don’t think I’m her favorite,” Kai says softly.
“No, you definitely are,” Drew agrees.
This conversation is taking an unhealthy turn. It’s like a car wreck. I want to continue listening, and at the same time, I’m going to lose all the camaraderie I feel towards these guys if they continue talking about the girl I haven’t been able to get out of my head since I was ten.
To protect my sanity, I put on my headphones and turn on the music loud enough to drown out my team’s voices.
FOURTEEN
LAVINIA
I forgot how crowded Vegas is and as we walk into the hotel, I almost regret agreeing to come. I could be at home in my pyjamas watching Pride and Prejudicefor the millionth time. Instead, I’m walking through a crowded hotel reception, trying not to bump into anyone.
“Remind me never to come to a convention again, especially if it’s in Vegas,” Jules begs.
She’s standing at the registration kiosk, putting our information into the machine. A group of people walk by, and they have large tube-like glasses hanging from a string around their necks filled with neon drinks.
Jules removes the room keys from the slot and turns to me triumphantly.
“What’s on our itinerary?” I ask as we make our way to the bank of elevators. There are groups of people standing around. More than a couple of girls have removed their high heels and are currently barefoot and a part of me wants to talk to them about proper foot hygiene.
“I figured we’ll do the convention the first couple of days and meet some of our favorite authors. I really want to go dancing while we’re here. We haven’t been to a club in forever.”
“Sounds good. You’re in charge.”
I lead the way into our room and drop down on the closest bed, face first. I straighten my arms over my head and my legs over the bed as I do a big stretch, getting all the kinks out.
The bed dips next to me as Jules lies down. I turn over so I’m lying on my side. She’s got her eyes closed, her blonde hair spread around her head like a halo.
“Scale of one to ten, how are we doing mentally?”
Jules opens her eyes and looks at me. “About six.”
We started doing these checks regularly in high school. Most days I was busy with practice, and she was busy with whatever extracurricular activity she had signed up for which left little time for us to hang out and check in on each other. So, we started doing these quick little checks to tell each other how we were feeling.
“Six is okay. A seven or eight would be better. What’s going on?”
Jules exhales loudly. “I’m exhausted, honestly. This book is not as easy as I thought it would be, and I so badly want to leave it and work on something else. I’ve already gotten one deadline extension, and I don’t want to sour my relationship with my publisher because they’re so amazing.”
I rub her arm gently. “Do you want to brainstorm some ideas with me or one of your author friends? How about when you finish, we go on a trip to somewhere warm? Hawaii? We had fun in Hawaii.”
A smile spreads across her face that eases the knot in my chest. “Hawaii sounds awesome. I can already taste a Pina Colada. What about you?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Still not a coconut fan, so I will settle for a margarita.”
“No, I mean, mental health check.”
I think about how I’m feeling emotionally and mentally. My life’s changed from where I thought it would be and maybe for the better. My career is over, but I have a new one as a podcast host and content creator. And that’s fine because I couldn’t play hockey forever, even though it ended sooner than I was ready.
“A seven. Maybe even a seven point five on a good day.”
Jules grins at me slyly. “What about a certain hockey player who keeps texting you?”
