Wait. Kidding.
Here's a small sneak peek at my current WIP, and yes-- it's a secret one that no one knew about UNTIL NOW!!
***
It was like the Camp Gods decided to answer me because as I was about to call out again, the front doors opened behind me.
I turned, almost expecting to hear church choirs singing as whoever these camper gods entered the premises.
A lone guy wearing a business suit was there.
That was it.
One.
One?! Are you kidding me?
But nope. I was getting ahead of myself. He moved forward, a tired look on his face, a bag thrown over his shoulder, and two more guys in business suits came behind him.
I was used to having wealthy campers before. Freedom catered to them, and the random celebrity had been known to rent out the whole place before, so I was used to seeing nice things. Nice clothes. Nice shoes. Nice bags.
These three guys--they were the definition of nice.
Their faces were man-scaped. Clean. Their flash of teeth I saw were white. Their eyes weren’t jaded, but they were worldly. Or maybe that was just the feel I was getting from them. There was an air of authority and confidence, not arrogant, but strong. They were sure of themselves, so sure that I moved back a step.
These guys were known, whoever they were.
Custom-tailored suits. Italian shoes. Their bags, I didn’t recognize the brand, but wealthy people used them. There was a look to them. The first guy was normal height, but trim. The two behind him were giants.
And then all the air was sucked out of the room. It started spinning.
The first guy looked at the office door, at me, and pointed. “That’s where I go?”
“Argucham,” came out of my mouth.
I didn’t recognize the language myself. Maybe it was something international, or maybe it was a future alien language, because that’s how I played it off. I smiled, blinked, and nodded as I felt like I was about make a crash landing on the floor.
He frowned briefly, but went to the office. A soft tap, and he opened it, stepping inside.
The two other giants went with him. Neither spared me another look.
Why would they? Because the reason I started speaking Alien was the same time I recognized one of those giants. He was a former NBA All-star, was on the All-NBA team, on the All-Defensive Team, and won six NBA championships.
He. Was. A. Legend.
And I couldn’t breathe.
I was hyperventilating.
Winston Duty, retired six years ago, but was now an assistant coach for the Seattle Thunder.
Oh.
My.
God.
The Seattle Thunder.
I was wheezing.
I bent over, my hands at my hips, and I couldn’t get any air out. I was panicking and pissing myself from excitement all at the same time. And I was about to pass out.
“Charlie!” Hadley hissed my name from behind, and I tried to turn around. I really did.
She was probably motioning for me to get to safety. Hide and die. That was it, but I couldn’t. My knees were melting. My feet were already in a puddle. I was sure that really was pee dripping down my legs.
This was my dream come true, if I’d live to relish it.
A hand wrapped around my arm, and I was jerked backwards. I clutched at whoever’s arm it was and raised my head. I was pretty sure that was the back of Owen’s head. He pulled me into the kitchen’s office and I was shoved down to the chair, my head forced between my knees and Hadley was kneeling in front of me.
“Breathe, Charlie. Breathe.” She patted me on the back.
I couldn’t. I kept shaking my head, pointing past them and out the door. Did they not know who was out there? No. The joke was on me. They did.
The Seattle Thunder. Reese Forster. My favorite all-time team and player.
Those were his coaches. If they were here, it meant one thing.
I was so unbelievably stupid.
The Seattle Thunder was having their training program here. HERE! AND I WAS HERE TOO!
All the fangirling, fanatical fan, obsessive stalker inside of me was freaking the fuck out.
Aliens. I talked like an alien, and I still was. “Whobegodan ham--” I was trying to blubber to Hadley and Owen about who was out there, but they didn’t need to understand. They were snickering at me. They were laughing.
I darted forward, knocking my hand against the back of Owen’s knee as he turned for a moment. He went down, but caught himself, shaking his head at me.
See. That was the old Charlie. I did annoying stuff like that when we were young, but it was payback this time.
I half-glared, half-tried to keep breathing. Nostrils, open on my command.
“You fuckers.” I half-growled too.
... stay tuned!
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