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Chapter 135: Hit Me With It

ZOYA

Have I mentioned how much I hate statistics? Well, let me mention it again, because it frustrates me to no end. What will I ever do with this knowledge, please tell me.

My phone rings and I startle at the intrusion. It's nearly midnight so I know it must be Tyler, post-game.

"Hey there, BFF," I answer, happy to hear from him. "Did you win?"

"We did. Tight, tough game."

"Oh, good. But sorry it was a tough game. You sound tired."

"I'm fuckin' exhausted," he barks. Then quickly followed by, "I'm sorry. That wasn't nice and it wasn't directed at you."

"It's all right. Do you need to talk? How was your time with your family?"

"Ahhh..." I can hear frustration in his every word. "I didn't see them."

"Oh? Why not?"