![]() ![]() It looks like I’m going to another hockey game. “The flight isn’t until tomorrow morning.” She taps the date on the ticket, which I’ve failed to read. How are we even going to make it to the game on time?” ![]() ![]() “A car will be at the house to pick us up at six.” I give getting out of going to the game a last-ditch effort. I need to reconsider the apartment situation. Once my mom makes up her mind, rationalizing an alternative is like slamming your head into a titanium wall-painful and futile. “Do you mean hypotheticals?”Ĭorrecting her is as pointless as fighting her on this. “Are you guilting me into coming?” I glare over the rim of my mug. Maybe if you’d been at this one”-she points at the magazine-“he might not have gotten himself into so much trouble.” “He was very upset when you couldn’t make the last few. Buck doesn’t care if I come to his games.” ” She trails off and gestures below the table. “Don’t be so crass! This isn’t about Buck’s. ![]() “Violet!” Her brow arches and her lips purse as if she’s sucking a lemon. “It’s not my fault Buck can’t keep his dick in his pants and out of his coach’s niece.” “It’s Buck’s first away game with the Hawks.” “What’s this? Why does it have my name on it? What’s in Atlanta?” Upon inspection, I realize it’s a plane ticket. Sidney’s excited to have him back in the city, though. “Well, I think they’ve blown this way out of proportion. ![]()
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