Lucky Break by Brooke Carter

Author:Brooke Carter
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459816428
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2018-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Misery Loves Company

My name is Lucy Graves and I am going to kill Emily Jones. I mean, I’ve been CRYING and somehow Andy Williams is walking INTO MY LIVING ROOM. Did I mention that he’s carrying FLOWERS? I stare at him. He’s all freckly and smiling and looking right at me, and I am going to KILL Emily for bringing him here and not even giving me a heads-up. I mean, I’ve been CRYING.

Coach approaches, clearing her throat and shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Hey, Lucy,” she says. “How’s the leg? How’s your head? You doing okay? I’m really sorry this happened.”

She’s fairly gruff at the best of times, and right now she seems way out of her element. I prefer Coach when she’s barking orders and being a total boss. Sympathetic Coach is kind of alarming. And a bit annoying.

“Uh, well, not great,” I answer. I point to my ankle. “Broken.”

“No!” says Emily, a bit too loudly and dramatically for my taste. She reaches for Andy and clutches his arm.

I feel my stomach clench as a surge of rage rushes through me, but I keep it together when I see Andy take a small step back from Emily.

“Geez, Emily,” I snarl. “What are you, a Southern belle?”

Andy winces.

“Lucy!” Mom is standing in the doorway.

Great—she came back just in time to hear my awful comment.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “I’m not feeling too great.”

“We won’t stay,” says Coach.

“We just wanted to see how you were doing,” says Andy in a soft voice. He hands me the flowers. It’s a small bouquet of daisies. Emily must have told him they’re my favorite. I’m such a jerk.

“Thanks,” I manage.

“Lucy,” says Emily, “we wanted you to know what happened with the game.”

The game. Of course, the game. It’s not as if the game would have ended just because I got hurt. The play would have continued.

I look at them and try to act interested. “Don’t keep me in suspense, Jones.”

“We won!” says Emily, giving a little hop.

“Great,” I say, but my voice is grim. Mom gives me another one of her looks.

Emily continues, unfazed. “Well, after you…you know…the ref called a penalty kick, and we scored!”

“Who took the kick?” I ask.

“I did,” says Emily, her smile faltering a little.

I nod. “Makes sense. But wait—who played fly-half?”

Coach chimes in. “We got Candace Peters in there.”

“Candace?” I ask. “She’s been riding the bench all season. And she’s a prop!”

“I know,” says Emily. “But she makes a decent fly-half. Nowhere near as good as you, of course,” she adds quickly. “Turns out she’s got a pretty decent passing game.”

“Emily, you’re being modest,” says Andy. Then, to me, he adds, “Emily scored three times.”

Emily shrugs and looks at her feet.

“Wow,” I say. “Good job, Jones.”

“I did it for you, Lucky,” Emily says, her eyes wide and sincere.

I can’t bring myself to thank her. It’s great that we won, and I am happy for Emily, but I’m dying inside.

I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone so dry that I cough.

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