Page 89 of Zero Pucks Given
“Because Carter is too fucking lazy?” I muttered.
Carter darted into the room. “Hey! I have a legitimate back problem!”
“Didn’t seem to stop you from playing Pickleball last week. Yeah, that’s right, I heard you telling Devin about the tournament. Little shit.”
Carter sputtered something angry at our boss.
“Just take the backpack,” my boss said. “He had it for the first two quarters.”
I held my chin up a little higher. “No.”
My boss seemed shocked by my defiance. “Last call is at the end of the third quarter. It’s only twelve minutes.”
“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not doing it. You can’t make me.”
Yeah. I know I sounded like a petulant teenager. But I was angry, and sick of being bullied around by people in this goddamn arena.
“Icanmake you. As long as you’re an employee here, I decide who—”
“Then I’ll make this easy for you.” I removed my name tag pin from my shirt and tossed it on the ground. “I quit.”
On the way out of the storage room, I showed Carter my middle finger.
Sharon gawked at me as I left the concession stand and disappeared into the crowd.
43
Josie
I was trembling as I walked out of the arena and got in my car in the employee parking lot. That was probably the adrenaline. I’d gotten a huge rush from quitting my job and flipping Carter off. I’d fantasized about winning the lottery and quitting my job before, but I never thought I would actually get the chance.
I sat before the wheel, waiting for my hands to stop shaking, before I drove home. And as a little treat to make myself feel better, I picked up some comfort food on the way: a large order of tortilla chips from my favorite Mexican restaurant, with queso dipandguacamole.
But as soon as I walked into my apartment, I started crying.
I didn’t intend to fall apart so quickly, but it was like the weight of everything crashed down on me at once. It didn’t help that as soon as I took my phone off silent, I was bombarded with TikTok notifications. More comments on all of my videos, most of them negative.
The worst part? I had to edit and prepare two more videos to release tomorrow, but I didn’t have the motivation or energy. What was the point if it would just invite a thousand more harassing comments?
When I eventually stopped crying, I played an episode ofGossip Girland stuffed my face with chips on the couch. The more I ate, themore I felt sorry for myself.
Wondering if alcohol would help, I poured myself a very strong gin and tonic. Honestly, it was more like a glass of gin with asplashof tonic water, but hey. Nobody was watching. And if there was ever a time to drown my sorrows, this felt like it.
Halfway through my second drink, I was brave enough—orstupidenough—to open TikTok.
Oh myGod. People could be so mean. Since Grayson’s press conference, I had officially become the target of everyone’s frustration for the game two loss. I reported some of the more violent comments, then closed the app for the night.
By the time I had polished off my second drink, I was ready to direct my frustration where itreallybelonged.
Grayson didn’t answer his phone when I called, so I fired off a flurry of texts.
Me: It really sucks that you’re ignoring me.
Me: It also sucks what you said on TV.
Me: EVERYTHING SUCKS. That’s what I’m trying to say.
Me: It would be better if I could talk to you, though.
