THIS STORY HAS NOT BEEN EDITED. OR FINISHED. IT IS FICTIONAL SO PLS BE AWARE THAT THERE MIGHT BE SOME HOCKEY FACTS TWEAKED TO FIT THE STORY.
Lennon Levine has sworn off athletes for the rest of her life. With a lifetime of baggage she has made a pro...
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I put my current read into my bag, along with my water-bottle and a chocolate bar. I'm already running late, and have had to skip on my sessions at the diner this past week and it's throwing me off schedule.
My brain feel scrambled already and we're not even a month into the academic year.
Before my dad left this morning to go back to California, he came over to bring me up to date on what working with Greyson at the charity entails. I can't say I'm thrilled, but luckily it seemed to be less work than I thought. I can't exactly tell my dad no...
The charity has it's east-side headquarters in downtown Boston, which is about a thirty-minute drive from our apartment. They usually work with children, and with ensuring that children from less-privileged areas have access to sports and equipment. Whenever I've helped in the past, it's been with social media posts or advertisement. I've never been involved in the camps or the visiting of the children - or anything that has to do with people, really.
It's just not in my nature.
Now that the charity has become the size it is, they have people who work full time in all these areas.
The plan today is to bring Greyson up to speed, before actually visiting one of the clubs that recieves funding from the charity. That part i'm exited for - even if I have to do it with him.
I park my car and grab my bag before walking inside. The offices are on the 13th and 14th floor of a high-rise, and as you enter the lobby there's a big, canvas painted onto the wall of the logo. 'Levine Sports' in blue and white, with two hockey sticks crossed on top of each other. My dad wanted something easy to remember when he made it, but also something that would blend well into the background and not take too much focus of the kids.
I guess he nailed that.
"Good day, Miss Levine" the receptionist smiles at me, buzzing the doors open as I greet her. "Mr. Carter is already here. I sent him into the common-room."
"Thank you" I say and walk through the glass doors.
The common-room is essentially just a big, cozy, livingroom area made to make people feel welcome. There's several sofas, bean-bags and chairs in different colors scattered around the room, and smaller tables and chairs fit for children. There's a sea of different colors throughout the room. Everywhere you look there's a sports-memorabilia - hockey, baseball, football, soccer - my dad wanted anyone to feel included despite dealing with mostly hockey.
It's a stark contrast to the rest of the offices. The building we're in is fairly new, with sleek design and floor-to-ceiling windows. It's very clinical.
I love the way he's made the children in focus when decorating.
I spot Greyson before he spots me. He's standing by the picture wall, hands in his pockets, looking at the pictures. He's turned slightly away from me but I can still see his split lip.
