Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“Right? Okay…well, if I’m going to have to pack up my entire life, I’d like to know what to expect. You see, I realize if the story is to be that I’m your girlfriend to the public, I don’t exactly…” The words catch in my throat, and he leans forward.
“You don’t exactly what?”
“It’s just that, I’m all right with pretending, but when this is done, I’ll have a life that I need to get back to. I want to be a social worker, and if my reputation is soiled, no reputable employee will hire me.”
He works his jaw.
“Why would your reputation be in jeopardy?” he asks, sounding confused.
“You’re Mr. Hockey. Everyone loves you even though they don’t actually know you.”
“I guess you could say that, but how does this affect you?”
I have veered so far from where I started, and I need to get us back on track. “When we break up, since that’s inevitable, what will we tell them?”
It’s like a light turns on in his eyes, and I see the moment he’s up to speed with me.
“That my schedule was hectic, and we were away from each other for too long. That we both mutually agreed that right now might not be the right time. We can cross that bridge when it comes, but I promise you, you won’t be painted as the bad guy. I don’t personally like to play the victim, either.” He chuckles, but there is something off about it. “We’ll work all that out, but you have my word that when it’s all done, you will be able to walk right into any office and get a job.”
I take a deep breath, feeling better now. “Thank you.”
“Right, well…hopefully, this will actually help land you the job of your dreams.”
It’s so easy for someone like Aiden, someone who’s well on his way to the status of legend, to walk through life. He’s likely not even being boastful. It’s a fact that if I become recognizable as his girlfriend, and things end on good terms, I could score a position for simply having dated a hockey star.
It’s so messed up.
He chews on his cheek. “Social worker, eh?”
“Yep,” I say, popping the p, not sure what else to say.
It’s something I’ve wanted to do forever. Look after those kids who have been practically abandoned. The kids like Aiden and me.
“Didn’t see that coming.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Why? You don’t know me.”
He blows out a breath. “You’re right. Just didn’t expect that.”
A steady thump lands on the front door of the trailer. The sound echoes through the space, shaking the walls around me. The knocking seems to grow louder as I stand from the couch to see who’s there.
I throw the door open, and I instantly recognize the woman.
Mrs. Saber. The social worker from my school.
This isn’t the first time she’s been to the trailer.
I cross my arms as I stare at the woman who often comes over to check. “Hi, Pippa. How are you today?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, I’m just peachy. Who called you this time?”
She chuckles softly, undeterred by my attitude. “Maybe I’m just here to check in.”
Inclining my head down, I give her my best who you trying to fool face. “You’re never here to just check in.”
She throws her hands up in the air dramatically. If I didn’t know her, I’d think she’s annoyed, but she’s one of the good ones. “Fine. There was a call. But I’m also here for you.”
I nibble my lip, trying to think of who could have called her. Most likely my math teacher. I have class with her right after lunch. This morning, Dad was passed out, and I was so late getting to school that I forgot to pack a lunch...maybe that’s it? Maybe she heard my stomach growl?
“You can talk to me. Nothing you say—”
“Can I?”
“From what I can tell, the house is clean, and you’re eating, right?” I nod, knowing full well the only reason I’m not skin and bones is because I make sure I eat, but I can’t let her know that.
“Your English teacher said you were upset. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Oh, there it is. She’s not wrong. I was upset.
English is my first class, and on the way to school, I had a run-in with the asshat who lives a few trailers down. I got marked tardy, and to make it worse, I left my homework at home.
“Do school social workers usually do house calls?”
“No,” she admits, and I’m almost shocked that she fesses up to it.
“Why am I so lucky…” There’s a bite to my voice that I know doesn’t belong there. She’s trying. She cares.
At least one adult does. Not true. There’s that nice old couple. The wife makes me cookies sometimes. If only they were my family. I’d much rather live with them.