Cards (and how we play them) - Hartbig

Chapter 8

Mamrie Lillian Hart is many things. 

Kind. Patient. Anoddball. Off-the-cuff. Patient. Confident. Strange. Patient. Intelligent.Hilarious beyond belief. Patient.

And as wonderful and understanding a human that the fierygirl was, she was two seconds away from simply strangling Grace just to get some semblance of peace.

In retrospect, this whole thing was her fault. If she hadn’tlet her lips go flying, spilling Hannah’s undoubtedly decades long-kept secret,then Grace wouldn’t be currently trembling and bouncing to her right, askingabout 10 times every minute where Hannah could possibly be, why she wasn’tanswering the blonde’s thousands of calls and messages, if Mamrie could give her any good reason as to where andwhy. Basically any form of ‘where is Hannah’ she could think of came streamlining from her mouth, bait thrown into the lake and not catching any damn fish.

“Helbig!” Mamrie finally exclaimed, effectively shutting off whatever ‘she couldn’t possibly be ignoring me’ type of sentence Grace was going to offer her. The blonde’s lips shut tight and immediate, hazel eyes shooting right to the team manager.

“What?” Grace offered meekly, probably confused by a sound entering the shared space that wasn’t her own panicked worry.

“Ya killin’ me here, kid. We are the middle of one of our most important practices for the season and you will not shut your ever-lovin’ mouth and I swear to God, Moses, Zeus and every other entity imaginable if you say ‘Exactly! She should be here!’ or any other variation I will shove my foot so far up your ass you’re gonna be smelling the turf on the back of my heel.” The redhead demanded in one breath, accurately portraying Grace’s impending interruption and the worried tone to match.

Some of the players taking a breather on the bench stared wide-eyed at the pair, recognizing the steady tone in the redhead’s voice and not daring to speak or react in any shape or form.

Hazel eyes stayed trained and wide at her, the blonde unable to set her jaw back in its upright position.

Mamrie huffed quietly, her rant causing her lunges to clench. She took a few deep breaths, exercises matching that of a star about the storm the stage from the wings, and then turned calmly to the blonde, taking in her stance of straight back and palms towards her like a wild bear.

“Okay. Yes, I understand that no one has heard from Hannah in an allotted amount of time that is worrisome. I understand that you are freaking out because in the last 10 years you two have never been out of contact longer than an old rerun of Golden Girls. And yes, I am painfully, painfully aware that the new information you acquired from me leaves you in an even more heightened state of panic. But please,please, for the sake of my sanity and your current state of being alive, just….chill. For five seconds. Just take a deep breath….and chill.” 

Grace nodded slowly, fear still plastered across her expressions, gluing her brows to her hairline. She followed Mamrie’s motions, taking one large inhale, and trailing behind with a shaky exhale. Mamrie gestured with her hands for the blonde to continue the exercise while turning a sharp stare towards the boys on the bench, nodding once with her head that they should probably head back to the field to avoid an altercation. They were gone within seconds.

“Alright. Okay. Calm. I think I’m calm.”

Mamrie tried to keep her expression neutral, taking into account the fact that, no, judging by the continued tremble of fingers and shifting of eyes, you’re nowhere near calm, Grace. Calm is here in Colorado and you’re somewhere near Mars.

“Good. That’s good. Gracie, I’m worried about her too. I agree that she’s been gone a little too long, it has myself and Tyler and even Sawyer more worried that usual, okay? But having panic attacks every other minute is not going to do anything to help her.”