Where It Begins – A Pucked Novella Read Online Helena Hunting

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Novella, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
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“If he tells the rest of them, I’ll kill him. Oh, shit.” She pulls her hood up, and sinks down in her seat.

The window slides open and a gangly teen boy who looks beyond bored asks, “Small vanilla milkshake and a medium fry?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you want any ketchup packets with that?”

“Violet?” I ask.

“Nope, no ketchup, but thanks,” Violet replies, her voice all pitchy.

The boy’s head lifts and his eyes light up. “Violet? Hall?”

She drops her hood and adopts a stiff smile. “Hey Jordan, how’s it going?”

“Good. I got a part in the play this semester. Are you working on costume design again?”

“Uh, not this time. Mathletes is keeping me on my toes this semester.”

“That’s too bad. It’s nice to see you.” He passes over the shake and the bag with the fries. “I threw in some ketchup, anyway. Just in case.”

“Thanks. See you around.”

“Yeah, have a good night.”

I wait until we drive away before I ask. “Would that be the Jordan you got all the practice kissing time in with?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s cute.”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t I ever meet him?”

“Because we only hung out when we were working on the play and he had a kiss scene because he was the lead role. I’m sure you can see where this is going.” She pushes her straw into her shake and tries to hide a smirk by taking a hearty slurp. Two seconds later, she’s holding the side of her head. “Ahhh, damn, you brain freeze.”

“So you practiced that scene together.”

“Obviously it was supposed to be closed mouth on stage, but we took creative liberties.” She flings a hand around in the air. “Anyway, that happened, and now this has happened, and I don’t know how to deal with it. And I’m terrified to text him because his mom probably reads all his messages.”

“I read your messages.”

“Yeah, but we have an agreement. When it’s no longer safe to read my messages, I’ll let you know.”

“I’m hoping that won’t happen for a couple more years.”

“Based on what most of the girls I know say about their boyfriends, you don’t have much to worry about there. I’d rather wait until the hormones have settled before I go making those kinds of life-altering decisions. My body is mine and all that jazz.” She pries the lid off her shake and dips a fry in the thick vanilla. “Ah, fries and ice cream, my arch nemesis and best friend, how I love you so.” She hums contentedly as she chews. “Do you want one?”

“I’m okay, but thanks. Back to the Michael issue. I think you can safely message him and ask if he’s able to talk. And then you can set the parameters for him. All your concerns are valid, and you can present it to him as valuing his friendship and your working relationship, and that you don’t want to disrupt the dynamic on the team, so it would be best if you kept what happened between you,” I suggest.

“Okay. I can do that. I’m so glad you’re my mom. I can’t imagine having to rely on my girlfriends for advice on stuff like this.” She pops another fry into her mouth. “Oh! How was the date? Did it go well?”

“It did, actually. We had a lovely dinner at Spiaggia.”

“And? Will you see him again?” Violet’s hopeful excitement makes me smile.

“I think so, yes.”

“Did you get a last name so I can internet stalk him and see what he looks like?”

“I did! His last name is Butterson.”

Violet frowns. “Butterson? That’s a weird last name. If you marry him, I’m keeping Hall. Violet Butterson doesn’t sound as nice as Violet Hall.”

I chuckle. “We’ve been out twice, Vi. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Still. Doesn’t hurt to put that out in the universe.” She pulls out her phone, presumably to look him up.

“He has a son,” I tell her before she finds out through social media. “He’s a little older than you. A junior I think.”

Her thumb stills for a moment before continuing to tap along her screen. “Okay. It’s b-u-t-t-e-r-s-o-n, right? Spelled like it sounds?”

“Yup, spelled like it sounds.”

“Cool. Huh, there are more Buttersons in the world than I realized. The top hit for Sidney Butterson looks like a hockey fan.”

“That’s him.” I grip the wheel nervously. My daughter’s approval is important. We’ve been a pair for a long time, and I don’t want to upset the balance. These years before she goes to college and becomes a strong, independent woman are pivotal. I brake at the four-way stop.

“Oh, hey now.” She whistles and holds up her phone. “Is this him?”

“Yup, that’s Sidney.”

“And the beefcake must be his son. He’s a junior in high school? He’s freaking huge.”

“He plays competitive hockey.”

“That’s unsurprising.”

I don’t tell Violet about the situation Sidney and I walked in on this evening. I don’t want to taint her view of his son before she meets him. And I’m not even sure if that will ever happen. Besides, she’s had enough of her own nonsense tonight. She doesn’t need more stress on top of the Michael situation.



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