Blindsided: A Sports Romance by Ava Kendrick

don’t want him to worry. It’s my problem. And I’m going to fix it.
    The only problem is I have no idea how.
    I don’t remember getting home because I was in such a daze that complete strangers had to warn me not to cross the street in front of traffic. As soon as I did make it home, I did two things. The first thing was to call Van. I got her voicemail. No surprise—she works most hours of the day and most of the night, plus she travels for work two or three weeks out of four.
    The second thing was to pull my battered old laptop out from under the bed and try and put together a resume. I’ve looked at countless careers websites and I’m still none the wiser. I got my job at the Greenboro Court through a friend—I don’t think I’ve ever even had a resume.
    There’s also the fact that I don’t have a reference I can use. I mean, I could put down Marcus’s name but who’s going to hire me if they think I’m a hooker? It makes my blood boil. I called a couple of attorneys but didn’t get past their secretaries. I had hoped they might take my case for free on a no-win no-fee basis, but they didn’t seem interested. Now, if I’d been hit by a bus, it might have been a different story. One of them even told me that straight out.
    I turn my attention back to the document on my screen. It’s blank apart from my name and the word ‘resume’ at the top. I stare at it, but my eyes keep turning back to the bills. The power is overdue. I’ve already called my phone company to change my plan from bill to prepay. The internet is a luxury we won’t be able to afford much longer, but that’s a catch 22—Sam needs it for school and I need it to find a job.
    Something needs to give. I’ve got five hundred dollars in my checking account and one more paycheck due. That’s not much of a safety net. I’ve got to make rent and bills. And pay for food. It’s. Just. Not. Possible.
    And then I can’t hold the tears back. We’ve had some dark periods, Sam and me, but there was never a point where I wasn’t able to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. Until now. And I’ve only got myself to blame. Marcus was right. Why did I sneak up to Jake’s room? Of course it looked suspicious. It doesn’t matter that it was none of Luca’s business. I shouldn’t have given him the ammunition he needed to take me down.
    My stupid crush might have made us homeless. That’s the reality I need to face.
    I tell myself to hush the hell up and do something constructive, but I can’t see the screen through my tears. How can I even start to spin this? I’m a hotel receptionist with no high school diploma let alone a college degree. I’ve just been fired because my boss thinks I was operating as a hooker for our guests.
    I mean… How? How do I work with this? Even a politician would struggle to spin it.
    I bury my head in my hands. It’s too much. I know I’m supposed to be chipper and grateful and all sorts of other plucky-single-mom stereotypes, but I can’t do it. This is rock bottom. And there’s no ladder or rope to get me out of it.
    ***
    To make things even worse, I’m too wrapped up in my problems to hear the door creak open. The first indication I have that Sam is home is a loud gasp.
    “What’s wrong, Mom?”
    I cover my eyes with my hands. “Nothing, sweetie.”
    “Mom?” he runs to my side, eyes wide with concern.
    I glance past him to the door, where my mother is standing, holding his book bag.
    “Honey, it’s fine,” I laugh, smoothing his hair. “Momma just watched a sad movie is all.”
    He looks up at me and I see my own eyes staring back at me. Skeptical. “Oh yeah? What movie?”
    I smile. This time it’s genuine. Here’s the one thing I’ve done right in the world: this clever, sensitive little kid. Whose life I’ve just ruined. My face crumples. “It was an old movie,” I gasp through racking sobs. “Sad. It’s heartbreaking.”
    He wraps his little arms around me and hugs me.