FUDGE.
Not the gooey, chocolate variety that coated Val’s tongue in sheer, sweet ecstasy each time she bit into her favorite extra chewy brownies--but the word she would often utter when faced with an extremely stressful situation.
It was because she, for the life of her, could not bring herself to cuss. So a watered-down version of f*ck was the best that she could come up with.
FUDGE!
“Blame it on the nuns.” She would smirk, referring to the wimple-wearing administration that dictated her education—from kinder all the way to high school.
Not that she was a model for Christian faith, humility, and all-around niceness. Not being able to curse was just one of her quirks, along with the need to always win—the latter she was giving up now, in order to win back something more precious than a mere victory.
FUDGEFUDGEFUDGEFUDGEFUDGE!
Val gave an involuntary start when she heard her laugh—that unapologetic, soul-powered laugh that floated above the canned orchestral music pouring from the speakers. It was a laugh so hearty, you could slice it with a fork and steak knife, consume it, and allow it to warm your insides. Val’s heart ached just hearing it.
She gazed at the couple dining on the lone table, bathed in soft light. From where she hid, she could see his face, and knew right away, that he, too, felt the pull of her charm. He was smiling and looking at her in a way that made Val's heart ache anew.
Le sigh.
They were almost finished with the pasta. In a few moments, it would be time for dessert—and the big reveal. By then, Val would know if she totally, irrevocably fudged it this time.
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon A Player
DragosteGorgeous college senior Val Fabian is a player in every sense of the word. She's the star spiker of her university's volleyball team, and she never runs out of dates. But it seems that this year, she has finally been bitten by the commitment bug. S...
