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Chapter 12 : We Should get a Puppy
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I knew I had to be a better boyfriend. I spent the next several days focusing on Annie and Annie alone. Well, Annie, class, and Quidditch. We lounged around and did classwork and talked about the shop. I didn’t mention Zonko, mostly because I didn’t want to worry her but also because I wasn’t sure how much she really needed to know about my family complications. It wasn’t her battle to fight.
I even joined her in the library for far too long pretending to study while she actually was. Good thing I brought spare parchment for sketching out shop ideas my father would turn down before finishing the newspaper comics.
Ryan hadn’t cashed in any requests yet. She kept to herself and Gemma, though occasionally I watched her cross the grass out the Gryffindor window, heading toward the pitch to help Albus dig his Ravenclaw team out of the crapper.
I noticed things others didn’t, though. Her baggy clothes. Fuller figure. Larger breasts.
What? I was male. She was hot.
Couldn’t help it, really.
When I wasn’t studying with Annie, James and I were plotting the demise of Gregory Zonko. When I told him what happened on Halloween he went into attack-mode, dreaming up possible ways to get him held back a year, stomped by wild horses, or at the very least have a carrot stuffed up his nose. In the end, we decided to wait a bit and tell Dad the next time we saw him. We didn’t want to trouble him through a letter without all the information. Especially the part about him attacking Ryan.
Clearly Zonko was willing to go to a lot of lengths to keep us out of Hogsmeade.
What he didn’t know was that was my shop. It was going to me. It was my legacy. My destiny and all that rubbish. It was going to be my own.
Though if Rox wanted, I’d share. Since she got to Hogwarts she hadn’t seemed all that interested in the shop anymore. Not in front of me, at least.
I’d barely seen her since school started. Just in and out of the Great Hall. In the corridors between classes. Here and there.
Always with Scorpius Malfoy.
How are things going with you-know-what?
I’m curious. Also, your mum is still convinced something is up. How long are we hiding this? I’m starting to sweat around her. You know how she is. Makes you sweat. Let me tell you, I don’t smell all that grand when I sweat. Just putting that out there.
I’ll be at your match against Hufflepuff to watch you and James dominate (yes, and the others too, but Rose has been knocked off her rocker for a while now). Besides, you’re playing Hufflepuff. Should be an easy win before a nice celebration. If you need any sweets or tricks donated, let me know. Always willing for a worthy cause.
Court has been scheduled for the middle of December. My attorney and I are prepping documents to prove we deserve that building. I definitely think we have a good shot.
Don’t worry about the money. I’m not worried.
We were practicing ruthlessly for Quidditch. A few times, Annie came to admire from the stands since all her mates were on the team. Gee took to teasing me about her being there. I took to trying to knock Gee off her broom. Rose took to giving me laps and everyone was happy.
I had to say the team looked good. Even the newbies were looking sharp under Rose’s watchful eye. It didn’t take much for James and me to look good. We’d been swinging bats at each other since we could stand.
At least I was in damn good shape and Quidditch focused my mind. Kept me from thinking about the baby book in my bedside drawer. The one I had yet to properly read.
I tried to keep my concentration on Annie, school, Quidditch, and the seventh year lock-in coming up at the end of November. The seventh years always bragged about it like it was some sacred event, but none of them ever talked about what went on. It couldn’t be too intense, though, right? It was sponsored by the school. It was in the Great Hall. They slept on the floor.
What could possibly have gone on behind those doors?
I was going to find out.
We only had a few special things as seventh years and not having the other annoying runts around for once would be nice. Maybe Mox and Gemma would snog again (she was appalled the next Charms class when we all reminded her exactly where her lips had been). If anything I could have a nice quiet evening with Annie and maybe pick on James and Ollie. It could be fun. Maybe I could even share a sleeping bag with Annie.
Professor Dierdra taught a very well-rounded Potions class. Dad used to tell me about his old Potions Master which ended up being a long story about Uncle Harry saving the world and also giving some gold to Dad and Uncle Fred to start the shop. But the point was Professor Dierdra was a zillion times better than Dad’s old prof.
She was blond and smily and slender and had this voice like a harp. Everyone loved her, even the girls (though Ollie got snippy whenever she patted James on the head for doing such a good job).
The NEWT level class was a mixture of all four houses. James had convinced me to take it since Uncle Harry still thought he was going to be an Auror and with us was Ollie, Molly (of course), Rune (gross), February (another Hufflepuff), Scotty (yet another Hufflepuff), Wyatt (wonky Ravenclaw), Derek (Slytherin), and Ryan Davies.
It took me a couple weeks from her punching me to realize she was actually in that class. She sat in the back corner, kept to herself, and obediently prepared each potion to perfection. She did her homework during class, without the assistance of the library, and tucked it into her bag for the next class. She refused to partner up, even when requested, and blew off Wyatt on more than one occasion, claiming the smell of him upset her nostrils. I’d seen him sniffing himself before he came into the classroom the last few lessons.
I had the unfortunate task of pairing up with Molly the last few weeks because James and Ollie wanted a secret snog. It was disturbing. He was breaking some sort of Code.
When Dierdra gave us the assignment, I moved toward Molly. She grinned like she was going to pour the hot potion over my head.
“No partners today, loves,” Dierdra said enthusiastically. “We’re going to have a bit of fun.”
Fun. Potions class. I wasn’t following.
“We’re going to mix things up a little,” she continued, taking out her chalk. “We’re making the motivation potion today, darlings. It’s complicated, but you’re inspired seventh years and I believe in you. And for the winner… a prize. But I won’t tell you what it is yet.” She grinned like she had a lot of secrets. I reminded myself she was a professor and having secrets was probably mandatory. “How do you win? Well, your classmates will continue to get knocked out by each wrong turn. The ingredients and directions are on the back of this board. Each time you do something incorrectly, the potion will turn a ripe shade of blue. If you prepare it properly, it will always stay a beigish-gold color.”
I made a face. I was rubbish at making potions. Everyone knew it. I’d probably make it to step two before I had blue mush all over my shirt. At least Molly stood a chance. Maybe Ollie as well. James sure didn’t. He was already looking puzzled, trying to remember what the hell a motivation potion even was. We did an essay on it two weeks ago.
“The last one standing wins,” Dierdra said, placing her fingers under the chalk board, at the ready. “Ready? Begin.” She flipped it up with so much vigor it circled again before stopping on the instructions.
It was an enormous list of ingredients and directions. I wondered what would happen if more than one person reached the finish, though with the selection of students in the room it wasn’t likely.
I followed the rest to the store cupboard and grabbed for the ingredients. James was elbowing Wyatt for a root.
A root that wasn’t on the list.
Damn it, James.
Concentrate. Concentrate. I could do this. I could at least last longer than Rune. He was making a kissy face at Molly.
I was in a room of teenage angst.
And the girl I knocked up.
I started to combine the ingredients carefully. Before I stirred clockwise, I checked the board. Before I crushed a root, I checked the board. Before I breathed, I checked. Everything was slow and steady. Ollie was several steps ahead of me, but once her potion slid into a vibrant blue color I smirked.
James’ followed. Then Rune’s. Then February and Scotty because apparently Hufflepuffs couldn’t follow directions. Derek let out a crazed yell when his went blue.
For a while, it was just me, Wyatt, Molly, and Ryan. Two Gryffindors against two Ravenclaws. I still had no idea why my potion was beige. But it was. Staring back at me.
My hands started to shake. They were sweaty. Dad was right – this was unpleasant.
It wasn’t that I wanted to win all that bad. I didn’t even know the prize. It was the thought of losing to Molly or Wyatt or Ryan that kept me going at a steady, slow pace.
Wyatt’s went blue soon after I added my last garlic clove. In frustration, he knocked over his cauldron, sending blue liquid all over the floor. Ollie jumped onto her chair and James threw a root at Wyatt’s head. Dierdra rolled her eyes and cleaned the spell quickly with her wand.
“Don’t even think about it, Fred,” Molly said out of the corner of her mouth. “I am the Head Girl in this family.”
“Two Prefects and the Head Girl,” James said gleefully. “Isn’t this a snobby competition?”
“Shut it,” Molly snapped, carefully counting her stalks as she added them.
“Come on, Mollywobbles,” James teased.
“I will hurt you, Potter.”
“Last names hurt, Mollywobbes,” he shot back.
She threw a stalk at him, but a piece of her other fell in while it sailed over the cauldron. Instantly, her potion was blue.
The shriek must have carried through the Forbidden Forest. Uncle Percy was probably wondering what was wrong all the way from London. I covered my ears. Molly lunged across the table and tackled James onto the floor. She began hitting him with a rolled up piece of parchment. No one stopped her, mostly because we were so amused.
I was still concentrating.
Part of me wondered if I should just throw it and let Ryan win. She couldn’t win at Quidditch anymore. She couldn’t go party with her mates or drink or smoke or fly. I wondered what she could do other than have mood swings and study. Then I reminded myself she didn’t study.
“Getting worried, Weasley?” Ryan said from the table behind me.
“Fat chance,” I said. I thought about our conversation at the bar. The tequila. The chips. The bathroom stall. Godric, needed to stop thinking about that.
“I’m shocked a Gryffindor is still in, really,” she mused calmly.
“I don’t know why.” I reread the instructions and added a ginger root. So, so carefully.
“Because Gryffindors are worthless,” she noted. There was a hint of truth in her tone, too. That she wasn’t just trash-talking. James’ knuckles where white. Ollie looked ready to murder her.
I sure know how to pick them.
“You think so?” I asked, carefully slicing a leaf. I added two slices and stirred three times counter-clockwise.
“Why else are you known for your stupid and selfish decisions?” Ryan asked.
The rest of the classroom was quiet. I really wished they weren’t there because I had a feeling what Ryan really thought was surfacing.
“Gryffindors or me?”
“One in the same, aren’t they?” Ryan said.
My neck was red and warm. It was rich of her to talk about stupid decisions, but how could I say something about it? I wanted to tell her it took two to do what we did, but that would be a little obvious. Last thing I wanted was for people to find out when she didn’t want them to. I just wished she’d shut her mouth and quit provoking me.
As a Gryffindor, I had a hell of a lot of pride, even if I had a tendency to let women walk all over me.
“You know very little about Gryffindor to have a lot of opinions of it,” I said, still focusing on the potion.
“I don’t need to,” Ryan said and James made a move before Ollie stopped him. “You and your family are in it. I have to exclude your sister, though. She’s in good company.”
That was my last straw. I wheeled around and looked at her, my face telling her all I needed to say. “Take it back,” I shouted. “Take it back now, Davies.”
Instead of getting angry, she smirked at me. “And if I don’t?”
“I—” I had absolutely no answer to that.
“Doesn’t matter,” Ryan said with a shrug. “I won anyway. Good game, don’t you think?” She grinned at Wyatt. “Good try, mate. You should study more. How to read.” She nodded to the root that wasn’t on the list.
I turned and she was right. In my rage, I must have added something wrong. Stirred wrong. She’d accomplished exactly what she was going for. Getting under my skin. It worked. She got under my skin and settled there like a disease under the surface, waiting. Exploding at just the right moment.
The problem was my heart hadn’t calmed. I was still angry and hurt and furious and hated myself for letting her talk to me like that. Hated myself for letting everyone talk to me like that.
I rubbed my temples and sank back onto my stool as Dierdra took back control of the classroom. She gave Ryan a vial of truth serum and everyone clapped half-heartedly.
“You okay?” James whispered. “She was just trying to get a rise out of you. She doesn’t even talk to Roxanne.” He kept his tone indifferent and I was glad he did. He was the only one at Hogwarts, besides Ryan, who knew it was me. He knew what to say and when to say it and for that I was grateful.
“I’m fine.” I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.”
When class was over I left before anyone else. I headed straight to practice, changed, and kicked off before the rest of the team was even in the locker room. The air felt relaxing and refreshing.
I couldn’t get my mind away from Roxanne. What she was doing. Why she was spending her days with Scorpius Malfoy instead of her own brother. What I’d done wrong.
That thought kept me busy for laps. Laps and laps. I practiced some dives, wondering how I could have been a better brother. What I could have done differently. Dad insisted she was just an angsty teenage girl, but I knew that wasn’t it. It was me. There was something wrong with me and she had replaced me with a blond, less-fun model.
Maybe he was more fun. Maybe he had a better sense of humor. Maybe he helped her study or tucked her in or helped her with all of those weird Ravenclaw logic questions. Maybe he was just a better person.
I didn’t exactly have a golden track record. This year alone I’d fucked up too many times to keep count.
“That’s what I like to see!” cried Rose from below. “Motivation! Good on you, Freddie!”
I went through practice in a strange haze. The match was looming closer and I felt I was in good shape, but I was losing concentration. My mind kept wandering. Roxanne. Ryan. Annie. Dad. Stupid sodding Zonko.
There was only so much longer I could handle this without crumbling under the pressure. James sensed this, as he told everyone I had the stomach flu and they should probably leave me alone.
He could have picked a less disgusting problem, but I appreciated it all the same.
Annie came down to the pitch for a while and we sat in silence. She asked what was wrong and I told her it was family stuff. She didn’t press further. Instead, she kissed me on the cheek and returned to the castle.
Everything was frayed at the edges.
The following day I received my first memo-owl from Ryan. It was a twittery little thing, wings flapping like a hummingbird, and it carried an origami swan tucked around its leg. I peeled it off, gave the bird a treat, and sent it on its way. I knew a reply wouldn’t be necessary. Especially since I couldn’t fold paper like that.
Ryan was asking me to bring her ice cream.
“Who’s it from?” James asked. He had his homework spread out over Andrew’s bed since he was still sleeping in the common room. “Annie? Does she want to snog?”
I shook my head. “It’s from Ryan.”
“Bloody hell. Can’t she lay off?”
“She’s pregnant, James.”
“She insulted your house and your family all in one go!” he shot back. “I’d tell her to fuck off if I were you. She can’t just go on requesting ice cream after manipulating you into losing the contest.”
“The contest doesn’t matter,” I said, leaning back into the pillows. She wanted vanilla ice cream. Sprinkles if possible.
Where the fuck was I going to get sprinkles? It was after hours anyway.
Okay I knew where to get sprinkles. Ryan knew that I knew where to get sprinkles. And ice cream. And anything else she might need.
Part of me hated her for it.
“Ignore it,” said James.
“I told her I’d never say no,” I replied.
“So pretend you didn’t get it.”
My eyes moved across her cursive scribbles. On one hand, it was my word. I’d given her my word that I would be there.
On the other hand, she flat-out insulted me, my family, and my house in an attempt to win a stupid Potions competition. In front of the entire class. And the professor. She didn’t seem the least bit phased by what she said.
I tossed the memo onto my bedside stand.
Fuck off, Ryan Davies.
Do not mess with Fred Weasley.
“I need a quill.” James was still working on Andrew’s bed later that night. Mox had been in and out, claiming the need to study in the library (ew) and Chopper was testing his new lighter outside on a bunch of twigs and dead leaves. “D’you have one?”
“Nope. Came to Hogwarts without one. Thought I’d write in blood.”
“Where is it then?”
“Lost them all.”
“All of them? You lost all of your quills?”
“Yes? Is that so hard to believe?”
I considered this. “Top drawer.”
James huffed and jumped from Andrew’s bed over to his, bouncing in the process. He wiggled across and pulled open my top drawer. “Ah!”
“What? Bug?” I looked over.
Shit. It was the book. The book with a big ol’ picture of a pregnant woman on the front. She had a shit-eating grin on her face.
It was horrifying.
“Why! Why! Why is it staring at me?” James leapt back, knocking his head on the bed post. “There’s a thing inside of her!”
I never imagined someone would react worse than I did.
“It’s a pregnancy book, James,” I said. I tried to keep my voice straight, but I wanted to laugh. A lot. “About what happens when women are pregnant.”
“Davies is going to look like THAT?” he said, gaping at the front cover. “There goes her being hot.”
“Shut it.” I threw a pillow at him. I took the book from its place and finally peeled it open. “It’s not so bad.”
“LIVING THINGS. LIVING THINGS INSIDE OF HER.”
Why didn’t I think James would react like a fool?
“Look. Seriously. It’s not bad. Just pictures of the woman getting bigger. What the baby looks like inside her.” I showed him the illustrations.
“Where’s she right now?” James asked, tentatively peeking toward the book from between his fingers.
I scanned the table of contents and started flipping pages. “The baby is about the size of a large, fresh plum.” I snickered. “Fruit. Really. The size of fruit.”
James held out his fist. “This is your baby.” He leaned over the gap between our beds and punched me. “I just hit you with your baby.”
I ignored him. “The fingernails and toenails have already begun to develop.”
“Ouch,” James said, rubbing his stomach.
I turned another page. “She’s almost at the end of her first trimester,” I explained. “Still fatigued. Having food aversions. Increased appetite. Yep.”
“So you believe she’s telling the truth now?” He laughed and sprawled out on his bed.
“I should have brought her the ice cream.” I kept scanning the book. The next few months. What to expect. How the baby was going to grow. Eventually, when I noticed James had passed out listening to me talk about fruit sizes, I shut the book and placed it back in the top drawer. Then I locked it in case anyone else went looking for quills.
I noticed a lot of things just skimming the chapters, but one thing was for sure.
By the time we got back from break there would be no hiding the pregnancy anymore.
We practiced and practiced and I did my best to avoid anyone not on the team. Even during Prefect walks I had a hard time actually listening to what China was saying. Something about cats and brownies and I may have agreed to introduce her to one of my mates. Or agreed to a date. I was unsure. I was always tired.
Ryan hadn’t spoken to me since Potions class days ago. Since I ignored her request for ice cream after I promised not to say no.
I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t want to be punched again. Instead I dove into Quidditch, kissed Annie between class, and focused as much effort as I could on the shop.
Everything was boiling over and all I had to keep me calm was knowing Quidditch was quickly approaching.
The morning of the match was bright and sunny, something Rose warned was practically evil. She would have said that about an overcast day or rain, though. She gave us a pre-breakfast pep talk and I was thankful to find my parents enjoying eggs and bacon at the Gryffindor table.
Roxanne wasn’t sitting with them. She was sitting with Malfoy at the Ravenclaw table, pretending her family didn’t exist. Ryan and Gemma were a few seats down looked bored and in secret conversation. Ryan looked exhausted.
“Freddo!” Dad leapt up, almost knocking a third year over, and pulled me into a hug. He looked good and the bags under his eyes were almost gone. I wondered for a fleeting moment if the shop was doing better, but that couldn’t be true. Maybe he just wanted to see some Quidditch for once. “How’re you?” There was a hidden message behind his words. It was in his eyes. Mum didn’t notice as she was straightening the collar on James’ shirt.
“Hanging in there,” I replied with a sideways grin.
“Going to win against those bloody Puffers, right?” Dad said.
“Pretty sure parents aren’t supposed to be quite this vocal,” I muttered.
“Painting my chest was a bad idea?” he asked.
Dad grinned that sly, mischievous grin.
Great. My father had a painted chest for a November Quidditch match. Brilliant.
“How’s the shop?” I asked and the grin disappeared.
“It’s doing well. Have all the paperwork drafted. I picked out a suit, too. New.”
Mum hooked her arm through his. “Just do your best, Freddie.”
“Is that what you told the team when you were captain?” I teased.
Dad made a face. “Pretty sure she may have threatened my life once or twice.”
“Just once,” Mum insisted and ruffled my hair. She kissed my forehead and James snickered. Then she kissed his forehead. “Your parents are meeting us here. Your dad got a little hung up at work but they’re on their way.”
James didn’t seem concerned. One less interaction that they could figure out he was going to take over WWW with me.
“I’m going to head out early,” I said with a grin and hugged my parents. “Get some air and check the pitch. I’ll see you after?”
“You bet. Maybe I’ll buy you a pint.” Dad winked and Mum smacked him.
I nodded and left the Great Hall with my Quidditch robes flowing back away from my shoes. At least today I could focus on Quidditch, though it was hard not telling Dad about Zonko right then and there. Especially since that git was seated so smugly at the Slytherin table.
It made me feel better his detention was cleaning bed pans at the hospital wing and a month-long sentence of cleaning owl dung out of the Owlry. I may have made a few owls take more letters just so he’d have more to clean.
I was considering my dive structure with a bat when my focus was blown. I was knocked off my feet by a heated curse from behind. The heels of my hands hit the grass and I tasted dirt on my tongue. My pants were definitely ripped at the knees.
I rolled onto my back, ready with my wand pointed at who I hoped was Gregory Zonko. I wanted a reason to take him out. All I needed was the smallest reason to claim self defense and this was my reason.
Except it wasn’t Zonko at all. It was Ryan Davies.
I lowered my wand.
“What’re you doing?” she snapped. I could tell she hadn’t slept. There were purple lines under her dark eyes and her hands were trembling. “Don’t lower your wand. I’ll hex you again, Weasley.”
“Come on, Ryan.” I groaned and propped myself up on my elbows. “I’m not dueling you on the way to the Quidditch pitch. I have a game to play.”
“Like hell you do,” she snapped. She edged closer. “You told me you wouldn’t say no. What’s that say about you?”
“Let me guess. That I’m worthless? That I make stupid and selfish decisions?”
“Probably off snogging your girlie, hmm?” Ryan said. Her hair was messy and tossed. Completely unlike her.
“I’m through arguing.” I stood and sure enough, my pants were torn at the knee. Bloody hell. “I’m not going to take your mood swings and your insults. It’s one thing to be a manipulative whore. It’s another thing completely to undercut who I am as a person and what I’ve at least tried to do.”
“Fuck off, Weasley,” Ryan said, rolling her eyes. “You knew what this was going to be like when you said you wanted to be involved and the first time I so much as ask you for something you bail on me. What a role model.”
“You’re one to talk,” I cried. “Bringing my sister into things.”
“Like it’s that bad.” She shoved past me and toward the pitch. “Good luck today, Weasley. You’ll need it. I may have sat in on a few Hufflepuff practices just to see to that.”
I stared after her. “Tell me you didn’t.”
Ryan merely shrugged and kept walking toward the stadium. Her hair moved in the wind.
“You can’t keep this secret much longer!” I yelled after her.
She ignored me.
Goddamn it. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with her. She made me absolutely crazy and I was certain she knew I wouldn’t ignore her just to snog Annie. I’d made her a promise, but her words stung and she knew exactly which ones to use to get to me.
She knew me too well, maybe.
Maybe it was time to call it quits. Ryan would never stop disliking me and resenting me for what happened. She would always hate that I was a Gryffindor. That I was a Weasley. That I shagged her in a bathroom stall. We would never get along and maybe I should just bow out while I still had some dignity.
James slapped my back hard. “Oy, mate. I thought you were going to get a look at the pitch. What happened? Trip over your shoe laces?”
I looked down. They were untied. “Yeah,” I said. “Happens way too often.”
“Don’t tell Davies. She’ll just have more ammo.” He smiled and steered me toward the locker rooms.
I couldn’t think about Ryan right now. I was in a room full of people who trusted me to go out there with a bat and hit Bludgers at the other team. That was what I was going to do. Then I was going to celebrate our victory in the Gryffindor common room while getting inappropriately intoxicated.
James clapped me on the back. “How’re you holding up?”
“Confident,” I said.
“Not about the game.”
“Less than confident,” I said.
He sighed. “Let’s go out there and win this thing. For Rose. If we win, maybe I’ll have to run less laps for being a cheeky bastard.”
“Nope.” Rose appeared at his shoulder, her hair pulled tight against her head until it flourished into a pony-tail. “But I appreciate you being optimistic. If you’re winning for anything, win for the party tonight. Andrew promised it would be wild.”
“Parise?” James snapped. “Why’s he promising wild parties?”
“I just heard it from Ollie.” Rose drew her hands up in mock surrender. “Calm down. One less thing for you to worry about, okay?” She smiled and kissed both of us on the cheek. “Now you’d better win or I will tell your parents the most incriminating information on the both of you.”
“That sounds more like my cousin,” I muttered darkly and shouldered my broom.
“I can name a couple people she sounds like,” James shot back. “Why d’you think Parise’s so excited? He’s not on the sodding team. He should want to foil our win.”
“He’s mates with Ollie,” I said, shrugging.
“I hate that guy.”
“All right, Gryffindors,” Rose said, drawing herself up in front of the group. “We’re going to go out there and win. By a large margin. Or else I will put you in a box and leave you in Hogsmeade like an unwanted puppy.”
“We should get a puppy,” James whispered.
“Definitely a golden,” I said.
“Are you ready?” Rose said, evil grin across her lips.
“Are you sure?” James asked. “I was thinking a lab or a husky.”
I shook my head. “No, no. We’d definitely have a golden. Oh! Shop mascot!”
That was when we realized the entire locker room may have been staring at us.
“Golden or lab?” I asked. Ollie rolled her eyes.
“Lab,” Gee said.
“Ha!” James cried, elbowing me.
“If you’re finished!” Rose’s cheeks were redder than usual. “We have a game to play.”
“Golden,” whispered Teo.
“You are all worthless,” Rose said, shoving open the door and letting in the deafening roar of fans.
James punched my shoulder. “Here’s to being worthless,” he said. “And getting a lab.” He shoved past me and thrust his bat into the air.
I thought that was the worst it would get. Rose being borderline homicidal before a game.
How very, very wrong I was.
A/N: Thank you again to everyone for following along. I have some great stuff planned -- and because I went on a random writing spree I've been able to update pretty frequently lately -- even though I'm crazy enough to take on four stories at once. WHOOPS!
NEXT TIME: Why Freddie was wrong, A Doctor Who reference, and something catches Freddie off guard.
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