ʀᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ | ᴋᴏ ✔︎

21

| Logan |

"Are you excited?!" Emily shrieks down the receiver as I drive home after practice, in desperate need of a shower. "I can't wait to see you suit up for Canada!"

"You're too excited this soon after practice. Are you drunk?" She chuckles as I clearly joke with her, turning the corner and closing in on my apartment building.

"I wish." She mumbles before a small yawn escapes her lips. "I'll let you go for now but don't forget, I'm picking you up in the morning with Kaylyn and taking you both to the airport for our flight."

"So responsible." I deadpan, rolling my eyes at my teammate who shares my childishness, and my blanket. "I'll see you in the morning."

I hang up on my blanket buddy and pull into the underground parking lot for my building, parking near the elevator doors. Getting out, I grab my kit bag from the trunk of my beloved bucket of trash and lock up before heading to the elevator. It'd be creepy if there was a blinking light in the darkness, but alas, there isn't. The doors open and I step in, hitting the button for the fourth floor and relaxing as the doors close and I hear the boring elevator music begin to play.

"What song is this anyway?" I mumble to myself as the terrible tune becomes lodged in my brain, despite my protests.

The doors open when I arrive on the fourth floor, my phone immediately buzzing as social media lights up at the mention of my inclusion on the Canadian team for the two friendlies coming up. I unlock my front door and enter my apartment, being slapped on the face by the overpowering heat in the place.

"I don't remember leaving that on." I mumble to myself as I turn the thermostat down, taking my kitbag and dropping it near the utility room since it's laundry day.

I trek back to the kitchen, getting a glass of water to cool my body, when the sound of a glass being placed on the countertop startles me and I spill my water.

"So...this is where you've been?" She slurs, holding onto the kitchen island, stopping herself from falling over.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" I ask, exasperated and on edge by her sudden, unwelcomed presence. "How did you get in here?"

"The man downstairs let me in. Funny how he has a key to my daughters hideaway and I don't." She spits through clenched teeth, lifting the glass to take another drink of the bourbon I had hidden away for a special occasion, something involving Kelley, and not my drunken mother.

"Why are you here?" I ask her, again, placing my empty glass in the sink.

"I see you're doing well." She motions to my chest where the Reign emblem on my shirt rests. "You're welcome, by the way. After everything I did for you, I don't even get a thank you? You always were a lousy daughter." She snarls, trying to bait me, but I'm too tired to fight with her.

"If all you want is a fight, I'm not in the mood. You can leave now."

"Where is he?" She slurs, throwing back the rest of the bourbon and slamming the glass on the counter.

"Who?" I ask, playing stupid, but I know who she means.

"KEVIN!" My mom screams, the veins popping in her neck and forehead when the sound of keys unlocking my door interrupts her. "Does everyone have keys to your place but me?! What did I do to raise such a stupid whore!" My mom takes swaggered steps around the kitchen island towards me. I don't move, already knowing her fist will connect with my face. She pulls her hand back, clenched into a fist, a deranged look on her face and I close my eyes, waiting for the impact.

"Woah, woah. I don't think so." I hear the female voice speak up, and open my eyes to see that she's caught my mom's wrist, inches from my face. "No one hits my favorite Rookie but me."