Page 58 of Scoring Chances
Cole is listening to music on his headphones. Though now he’s sitting on the pool lounge next to me. Cassidy, Maddie, and Parker are playing in the pool when Keelan slides the back door shut. It rattles behind him.
“Uh… you okay there?”
“I’m fine,” he says, tossing his towel onto an empty chair and stripping out his Hawaiian shirt.
Cole and I exchange glances before going back to our phones.
“Izzy and Ryker are coming by,” Keelan says, before diving head first into the deep end. Cassidy looks over at me with a puzzled look. I shrug.
I can almost guarantee whatever has Keelan in a mood is Rina-related. And if Izzy and Ryker are coming–it’s probably because they know something.
I brace myself for what’s likely going to be a come to Jesus meeting for our team captain.
A few minutes later a car rumbles in the driveway. Ryker opens the side gate and ushers the very pregnant Izzy in.
“Hey!” I wave at them.
Izzy waddles over, Ryker holding her from the side.
“Dude… did you pop overnight?” She sits down on the chair next to me and huffs.
“Just got back from my doctor’s appointment. I’m officially two weeks away from popping out a baby.”
“Congrats,” I smile at her.
She returns it and greets everyone in the pool. Ryker sets their beach bag down next to Izzy’s feet. Izzy’s swollen feet. Damn. Poor girl.
“Stop staring at my fiancee’s feet, Hicks. It’s weird,” Ryker says.
“Does it hurt?” I look up at her.
She sighs. “I mean, it’s not comfortable. I feel like a walking beluga and I haven’t slept in months… but no, Hicks, it doesn’t hurt.”
Ryker looks out into the pool and in a low voice says, “So… how is he?”
“Lando?”
“No… your dick. Of course, Lando,” he deadpans, then shakes his head. “Landry… I mean, Keelan!”
I laugh. Glad that my nickname for our team captain is catching on. “He’s been better.”
“They’re eloping,” Izzy says.
I cock my head. “Rina and soccer douche?”
She nods, solemnly, turning to look at her brother floating on the water staring up at the sky. His shades pulled over his eyes.
“Rina Bonner,” she scrunches her nose. “I can’t get used to it.”
I laugh to myself and I see small grin on my teen brother’s face. We’re thinking the same thing.
“Stop it,” Izzy says, wagging a finger at us. “Grow up, Hicks.”
“Ok, but in all seriousness–how do you spell it?”
“Not how you think it is,” she says, sliding her feet out of her sandals.
“We’ll need to get his mind off of it. He needs a project. Anything in the house need renovating?” she suggests.