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As I make my way down the hallway, the anticipation builds in my chest. I take a deep breath and clutch my necklace, running my thumb over the little silver heart pendant, feeling the cool metal beneath my fingertips. This necklace belonged to my gran, and I’ve worn it every day since she passed away. It’s my good luck charm, a reminder that she’s always looking out for me.
“Took you long enough,” Cameron says dryly as I make it back to the car. I ignore him, climbing in and reaching for my seatbelt. Lord knows I’ll need it. He grunts something under his breath—which I also ignore—and pulls out of the parking lot, taking off down the street.
I reach into my purse, fishing out my phone and looking for any missed notifications. Unsurprisingly, there are no new text messages, but I still check anyway. Then I make my way to my social media notifications. There’s a lot. Just like always.
I don’t know why I even care what strangers have to say on my posts…
But still. The loneliness drives me to read through them.
“This is just a get-together.” Cameron’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “So I don’t know what you think you’re going to do—but I can assure you, there won’t be anything interesting to take pictures of…”
“I don’t need anything interesting. I can make a walk in the park look interesting,” I tell him, locking my phone screen. “It’s not about what you do, it’s about how you do it.”
He makes a face at me. “Well, good luck. I hate taking pictures.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. My mom used to take a ton of pictures, and I guess I just don’t like it now.”
“Right.” I frown.
Must be nice to have one of those.
I chide myself for the bitter thought. It’s only coming from a place of grief. I don’t really have a mom. Well, I mean, I do, but she’s not interested in my life, usually.
“Does your phone always do that?”
I furrow my brow. “What?”
“It’s like a light show with all those notifications.”
I glance down at it, seeing the notifications for Instagram and TikTok mentions and likes lighting up my lock screen. I shrug at him. “Yeah, well, I have a lot of followers on social media. It’s part of the gig. And there’s always something going on.”
He curls his lip up in disapproval as he turns into a neighborhood, towering with modern, urban houses. “This is where Blaze lives.”
Blaze...
Which one is he?
I created a full breakdown of all the players, complete with pictures and stats. I quickly scan through my mental database, recalling the name Blaze belonging to a hotshot right-winger who’s been on the team for nearly a decade.
“Blaze, Kade, and Dylan will be there,” Cameron continues, eyeing me. “And then some of our other friends, but those three are my closest teammates. Might as well be family to me.”
“Noted,” I say, ignoring the pang of jealousy. I have tons of friends—more than most people prefer, probably—but not a single one of them would fall under the category of family. Come to think of it, the majority of them are more like acquaintances or people I’ve met through social media.
I have more followers now than ever, yet I’ve never felt more lonely.
It wasn’t always this way, though. I used to have close friendships. And I had a best friend in Gran. But after she passed away two years ago, I became more … isolated. I guess it’s just easier to keep people at arm’s length, especially when the possibility of losing them is always looming over my head.
But I’m not here to wallow in self-pity.
I’m here to work, and that’s what I intend to do.
I do my best to brush off these feelings as Cameron parks behind a massive Jeep, lifted with gaudy tires and wheels. “Who drives that?”
“Dylan,” Cameron answers, killing the engine and pushing open the door. “When you meet him, you’ll understand.”
“Fair enough.” I follow him out of the car and up to the front door, my heart anxiously pounding in my chest. Attending these kinds of events for work is normal, but for some reason, I’m not feeling as comfortable.
