Play No More (Player Next Door sequel) ✓

11 | Sock

Thank you to @Lola.Lallas who DM'ed me the raccoon photo above. She also made this into a sticker.  So creative!

Chapter 11: Sock

There was blood on the carpet and Chad's designer sunglasses broken on the floor.

I had one shoe on and my other foot was catching the breeze in an orange sock.

This day was not going well. I swear nothing good begins on a Monday...

My thoughts were on Arturo. I wished he was safe. Now that we knew the jersey belonged to him, whose to say the blood wasn't? Please, please be ok.

The phone rang.

I had no understanding of why this was happening. Arturo and I had never met. Why would his jersey be in my room? Who put it here and why?

"Please pick up," my sister whispered next to me.

We were huddled around Luke's phone. Chad, Austin, Luke, Flora and myself. Each ring sent us into a deeper silence.

The tension was building. Riiiing.

"Don't go to voicemail..." Austin muttered.

"Ssh!" Chad hushed us.

We all leaned in. There was a moment's silence as we waited. The phone was either going to voicemail or someone was picking it up.

...

...

"Yo, yo, YOOOOOO!"

Art's loud voice blared out through the speakerphone. It momentarily shocked us.

"How's it going boss?" Art yelled out into the deafening silence.

We all looked at Luke. Boss?!

Luke ignored our looks and brought the phone closer, "You ok, Art?"

Sounds like he is.

"Nah, I'm not! I know I p*ssed you off at the mall and I want to apologize. I'm glad you saw my texts and called me back, man-"

"But you're ok?" Luke confirmed for the second time. He clearly hadn't paid attention to any of Art's texts. "No one has come up to you or taken anything from you?"

"Why? Is someone setting me set up?"

"Just check your basketball kit and call me back." Luke hung up, having no patience for this guy. He looked at us, "So he's fine."

A collective sigh escaped our lips.

Chad commented, "Anyone else forget how annoying that kid is?"

"At least he's alive."

Chad shrugged, "Meh."

There was some commotion as everyone collected themselves. The stress of the last few minutes had been too intense. Art's alive and he's well. That was priority #1 (except on Chad's list).

I tapped my fingers against my chin and thought out loud, "I hate to bring this up but if that isn't Art's blood, then whose is it?"

Silence.

We were back to square one.

"Maybe it's not blood," Flora pointed out, "Has anyone checked? It could be ketchup."

"You can't pay me to check that," Austin said, backing the hell away from my bloody bedroom door.

We were about to start pointing fingers at each other, when the sound of the front door slamming shut made us silent. Someone was inside the house.