Page 108 of Chasing Headlines
“You've only got a couple of hours before practice starts.” She waved her access badge at the reader, then turned and gave me a nudge. I grabbed the handle, pulling the door open for her.
“Schorr's gone soft in his old age if you're still on his roster.”
A phantom force sucker punched me in the gut as I leaned down to grab her filters. “Fuck. Fuck me. Fuck this whole God damned college shit.” I groaned.
“Yeah, you're one smooth conversationalist aren't you?” She tugged me through the doorway. My feet moved like they'd turned to lead. “Oh, come now. Unless Andressa's recovered her cold and signed up for karaoke tonight, the fat lady's not singing your tune, yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Olivia POV
Grumbling and on edge, I let myself into my dorm room. “I've got to get that interview somehow. Without Cooper around. But how? I go there at night, he's there. I show up during the day and there he is. Makingmewant to resort to Storm Cooper violence. Gah!” I sunk down onto the couch and groaned.
“Talking to yourself again?” Cathy's voice came out of nowhere. I practically jumped out of my skin.
I sat up and found her half-hidden by her monitors in the corner of the room. “Only when I need an expert opinion on something.”
She leaned back and came fully into view. “I'd call someone else,” she said with a cocky grin.
“Hey, now.” I stuck my tongue out at her.
“Unless it's about baseball.”
“Or some baseball players.” Hilda shut the door to her room and joined the conversation. She sat on the edge of the couch with her ginormous sippy water bottle.
“Baseball, sure. The players?” I rolled my eyes. “They're as impossible as most men.”Cheap shots are what I expect from reporters. Wah wah wah. Ass.
“That's what I say. But still it's Antonio, Antonio, Antonio. 'you must marry him, es ungran partido. Just es asombroso.”
“No, no, chica. No casada, ma querida. Enterrar la batata.” I rolled my r's in the absolute worst Spanish accent anyone could have the misfortune of hearing.
Hilda tipped her head back and growled at the ceiling—a sure sign I was having the desired effect. The series of knotted lumps inside my chest from my time cooped up with Coop finally loosened.
“You prefer mojar el bizcocho?” I snickered.
“Why did I ever try to teach you Spanish?” Her dark-colored eyes found mine. One eyebrow raised, but her mouth twitched. She wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.
“Because you knew it'd mucho help my street cred in hashtag baseball life.” I tilted my head and grinned.
“I did not teach you these idiotic phrases.” She pointed a finger at me. “Que chingaos.”
“I memorized a Reddit post with dozens of them,” I warned. “Admit you like him.”
“He smiles too big, like nothing ever phases him. I tell him 'never', and he just smiles and says he won't give up. He knows its destiny or some loco bullshit.”
“Cachetear el querubin.”
“Why?” Hilda threw up her hands.
“I have no idea what's happening right now,” Cathy said as she moved to lean against the back of the couch.
“Liv's being an idiot. In two languages.” Hilda stood over me, hands on both hips.
“Echarse un polvo.” I pressed my lips together to hold in my laughter, but I wasn't going to make it. She scowled and I lost it, doubling over into a fit of giggles. Cathy just stared at me.
“Yes, yes, you've had your fun.” Hilda let out a sharp breath and sat down on the floor next to me. “He does have a nice ass.”
“I knew it!”