Rock Bottom Girl(100)

The crowd was on its feet, and there was nothing even happening on the court. I could see the can collectors accepting fistfuls of cash and winked at Marley.

She grinned and then covered it with a fierce glare.

Bertha lunged at Marley’s hood and got another good bite.

“Aaah! Control your noble steed, you jackass,” Marley screeched at me as Bertha accidentally choked her with her death bite on the hood.

“Yellow card for trying to asphyxiate a member of the opposing team,” the ref said, shoving a yellow card in my face.

“Now you’re just making shit up,” I complained, wrestling Marley’s hood away from my hungry donkey. “Bertha, you’re making me look bad.” I swear to God she winked at me.

Marley skipped off with Donkey Ote and gave her team the thumbs-up. Karma was swift and judicious. When Marley tried to climb onto her donkey’s back, he turned in a tight circle, and she slid right over his back onto the gym floor. Her soccer team was hysterical. I jogged over and sidestepped Donkey Ote.

“Are you okay?”

She rolled over, tears streaming down her face.

“Oh, shit. Are you hurt?”

Marley shook her head and sucked in a breath. Her bun was crooked under her helmet, her cheeks were flushed, and her shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

“I. Can’t. Breathe,” she squeaked out, wiping away the tears. “I fell off a donkey.” She covered her mouth with her hand, brown eyes twinkling, and I realized I’d never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life. I was going to marry this woman. And I was going to mention this exact moment in our vows.

Donkey Ote got tired of not eating snacks and nudged me in the back hard enough to shove me into Marley. It started her laughing all over again. We were a tangle of limbs and donkey leads, and neither one of us could stop laughing long enough to help the other one up. Around us, the game continued in fits and spurts. But I was too busy falling deeper in love to do anything about it.

We sat up and did our best to untie the donkey halters.

“Yo, Cicero!” Floyd called from down the court just as we got untangled.

He heaved a Hail Mary in our direction. In slow motion, I watched as Marley shoved me back onto the floor and caught the ball to her chest. She stuck her tongue out at me and slid onto Donkey Ote’s back. I lay there slack-jawed as her ass jogged down the court and Marley executed the perfect donkey-assisted layup.

It was pure pandemonium in the gym.





59





Marley





“We won. Get over it,” I told Jake smugly as we walked up the driveway.

“You cheated,” he argued.

“Listen, I don’t know how my team all ended up with cans of silly string. I’m completely innocent,” I lied. My team had squeaked by with a victory after we’d unleashed a silly string assault on the other team’s riders with a minute left in the game.

“You’re a Cicero. I should have known you’d take winning too seriously,” he teased. “I think my wrist is still sprained from Dutch Blitz.”

“It’s your own fault for assuming my family is normal. And you should see Zinnia play chess. She’s got a victory dance for a checkmate that is not safe for work.”

We stepped up onto the front porch, and I glanced around at the columns. Even the front of Amie Jo’s house was decked out for the party. There were balloons in Culpepper blue and white, hurricane vases with candles, and what looked like several large Barn Owl pi?atas hanging from the rafters.

Living next door had given me a front-row seat to witness Amie Jo’s party preparations. The swan had been corralled in a white picket pen in the front yard where it squawked at the steady line of caterers and party planners and other strangers in uniform carrying mysterious boxes and bins. Vans and trucks drove onto the grounds in a steady stream starting at 10 a.m.

I couldn’t wait to see what was behind the large double front doors. On the other hand, I also couldn’t wait to go the hell back to Jake’s house. I was willingly going to a social event in Culpepper. At my sworn enemy’s house. Sure, I was interested in what was behind door number one, but I’d rather be getting naked with my boyfriend.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, tugging at his sports coat.

“Amie Jo hasn’t reported me to Principal Eccles in a few days,” I told him. It was a Culpepper miracle. Seemingly, her slide through warm donkey shit had, at least temporarily, dulled the woman’s hatred of me. I’d expected another conference with the principal when Floyd and I worked out a deal with a local barre studio to borrow their free-standing barres. We were in the midst of two weeks of clunky ballet moves and quivering thighs as we all held unnatural positions. The kids freaking loved it.

“Maybe she’s finally decided to grow up,” Jake said optimistically. He reached around me and pressed the doorbell I’d been working up the nerve to poke. “Relax, Mars. You look great, and I guarantee you’re going to have a damn good time.”

“I’m walking into the lion’s den, and you act like we’re going to an ice cream social,” I complained.

“Trust me. There ain’t nothing ice cream social about this party,” he promised cryptically.

The front door opened, and I could only blink at the camouflage tuxedo-ed man before us. “Welcome to the Hostetter Estate,” he said in a British accent. “May I please have your names?”