ᴍᴀᴇᴠᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ
"𝐈 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐈𝐅 you don't come play street puck with me within the next 10 minutes, I'm gonna hoard that Nirvana album for the next 6 months," Adam Banks warned.
I imagined him with his usual toothy grin as he twirled the phone cord around his finger, leaning against the gray wallpaper of his kitchen. Ever since the grass turned green and the temperature hit above 50, he's been at my door practically every day trying to get me to practice with him. He's also been using that Nirvana threat since it came out in 1993--almost 9 whole months of the same tedious consequence.
"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes, holding the phone between my shoulder and head. "I heard you the first billion times."
"Wait, what phone are you using?"
"Library's," I answered while placing 'Little Women' back into its proper section. "You know, the place with all the books."
"They let you use that?"
"Gee, Adam, I've only worked here for months."
"Well, you're leaving now, right?" He asked.
I heard the rattle of his fridge opening to grab a cold water bottle. That boy always got his hopes up so soon.
"Be home in 15," I told him.
"Promise?"
"You're so needy. Just play with yourself, I won't be that long."
"Promise on true blue that you'll be here in 15!" His voice rose so much through the staticky phone that I had to pull it away from my ear.
"20 max."
When I heard the first quack, I thought it was another Adam strategy to get me to play hockey with him. But when the second one floated through the nearby open window, my head practically snapped in its direction. By the third one, I had never been so sure of anything in my life.
"B-"
"Adam!" I interrupted, my movements stopping as my eyes darted out the library window--watching as three unmistakable figures approached. "I think he's back."
"Oh, I have a feeling you won't be home in 15."
☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆
"𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄! 𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄! 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍!" I yelled as the trio of boys made their way down the sidewalk.
"Well, you were easy to find," Averman remarked as their roller blades came to a halting stop right in front of me.
"Lace-up, Maeve," Charlie said, grinning a grin that I hadn't seen in forever. "We're hunting Ducks."
I knew what those words meant, and they made me want to jump around and scream with excitement. Bombay was back. He was actually back. We were back.
"I thought Coach wasn't getting here until November," I mentioned, quickly tying the purple laces into a sloppy bow.
"Didn't you hear?" Jesse questioned.
"No..."
"He tore a shit ton of cartilage in his knee," Charlie summarized.
"Bye-bye professional hockey career," Averman added.
"So he's back to coaching," I filled in, glancing up to see their nodding heads.
"But it gets better," Jesse Hall continued.
