Book 2 of 'My Mom Is Who?'
Cody's journey continues, and it's filled with more ups and downs than before. Follow her story as she juggles life with relationship drama, work, addiction and having a famous soccer player for a mom, all while transform...
"From even the greatest of horrors irony is seldom absent." - H.P. Lovecraft
| Jack |
"Can we please just talk?" Kelley asks for the hundredth time.
It's been like that since I finalized my transfer to Houston to play in orange. It shocked everyone, in that they were confused as heck. I didn't talk it over with Hope or Kelley. The only person I told was Christen, who still texts me everyday.
"About what?" I ask, my arms crossed over my chest. Not because I'm feeling defensive, but because I'm simply exhausted.
Exhausted from the mere repetition of this conversation. Exhausted from all the travel days. Exhausted from simply not getting along with everyone - that includes Kelley.
"I want to apologize-"
"Save it." I cut her off, continuing before the hurt look on her face can settle in. "It's cool, I want to start over. You're not the only one that acted like an ass." I confess which elicits a small chuckle from the Utah player.
She extends her hand out, a grin taking over her small face, "Nice to meet you, I'm Kelley!"
"I'm Jack, but you can call me awesome." I throw a playful wink at her before she laughs.
"Happy to see you two getting along." Christen beams as she throws an arm around me. "And of all places, the beautiful streets of L.A."
"God, you sound like a tour guide." Cody walks by, shades on, snapback on her head, sipping on a coffee.
"Don't mind her." Alex cuts in. "Jet lag sure does look like a hangover."
"Shut up." The young Morgan grumbles before resting her head on her mothers shoulder as Tobin skates up to the group.
"You used to be the fun one." She grumbles while playfully glaring at Cody.
| Cody |
The US team is touring as part of their victory tour, off days lined up for Jack and I to tag along, though we'll be departing on seperate days.
Taking advantage of the limited number of days I get with my childhood best friend, we share a room and spend a few hours binge watching Netflix.
"Oh she totally killed him!" Jack pleads her case with a lot of energy without moving, as to not disturb the comfort I had found laying in bed with her, my head on her shoulder - just like old times.
"I don't think so. She loved him-"
"Ha, yeah, cause husbands never kill their wives!"
"Okay, No more Netflix for you, Detective Squirrel."
"Get over it." I sass when she groans. I stand from the bed, putting on my shoes and a jacket. "Want a coffee?"
"Yeah, but I'm too lazy to move."
Rolling my eyes, I throw her a wave and head to the nearest Starbucks. As usual it's packed and my patience is quickly draining, so when I eventually get my order I'm too excited to pay attention and I have tunnel vision for the door.
Unfortunately I walk straight into another body, spilling both cups all over my poor victim.
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention and-" I start to ramble, grabbing as many napkins as I can as I try to clean up my mess.
"Hey, it's okay. I shouldn't have stood so close. It's my fault." He reassures me as I continue to pat his chest through his ruined shirt. I was so focused once again that I hadn't noticed how furiously I was trying to clean the coffee stains off his shirt until a deep chuckle escaped his throat.
It's the moment I looked up and truly seen his face. His tanned skin, brown eyes, killer smile. I suddenly wish he hadn't laughed, as I'm now just staring at the man in front of me. Model-like features.
"Are you okay?" He asks, his warm brown eyes showing concern.
"Oh, yeah. Uh, I'm fine! You?"
"I'm good." He chuckles, flashing his smile once again as he glances down, "Can't say the same about my shirt."
"I'm so sor-"
"Sorry, I know, you already said." The mystery man chuckles again, and I start wondering if anything can wipe that smile off his beautiful face. "Can I buy you a refill? Or..."
"Or what?" I ask in a teasing tone, surprisingly comfortable enough to speak with this stranger.
He chuckles once again, "Or can I buy you lunch?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you out? I mean, I did just ruin your shirt."
He only smiles and shakes his head. "I insist."
I cave, though admittedly I didn't put up much of an inner fight. We exchanged numbers, he saved his under 'Coffee Victim'.
"So what's your name?" I ask, as I only saved my number under my name, not some cheesy line.
"Oh, I should have started with that. I'm Servando, it's a pleasure to meet you."
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