Most Valuable Playboy

She laughs at me.

We’ve been here for a few hours already. After the hospital administrator gave us a tour of the new wing, and I visited as many patients as I could and signed as many casts as possible, a group of kids convinced us to play Xbox in the hospital’s game room here on the third floor. It didn’t take much convincing, to be honest. This is my favorite part of these kinds of visits. Chill time with the kids in the game room. The walls are a bright yellow, the TVs are huge, and the video games are plentiful. Jillian has parked herself in a quiet corner of the room, tapping away on her phone. That’s her job—to be here if needed but to fade into the background if not.

“Can’t we switch to NBA 2K? I can school all of you at basketball,” I say.

Violet laughs then pats my shoulder. “But you know I can beat you at that, too.”

I scowl. “Apparently, my girl has been practicing video games behind my back.”

Violet’s eyes widen when I say my girl, and I flash her a smile. She feels like my girl. For real.

Shane laughs, and Carlton cracks up. “Cooper, you’re terrible at Madden,” Carlton says in his pipsqueak nine-year-old voice.

A nurse knocks on the open door. A redheaded girl with bright blue glasses stands at her side. “Hi there. This is Natalie. She’s eleven and she had a fantastic day,” the nurse says with a cheery smile.

Immediately, I pop up from the couch and head to the doorway. “Fantastic days at hospitals are the best days,” I say.

Natalie lifts a hand to wave. “I got the results of my one-year scan today.”

My eyebrows rise. “That so?”

She nods and smiles, showing two missing teeth. “The doctor said I don’t have leukemia anymore.”

Violet gasps.

I hold up a palm, and Natalie high-fives me. “Best news ever,” I say with a huge grin.

“That’s amazing, Natalie,” Violet says with a wobble in her voice. She clears her throat, speaking evenly now. “What are you going to do to celebrate? Do you want to hang out with us?”

Natalie nods then looks at her parents in the hall behind her, who gesture that it’s okay for her to join us.

“Natalie, do you like sports?” I ask as she enters the game room.

She nods enthusiastically. “I like ice skating and gymnastics and roller derby. I went to the roller rink last week, and I had the best time. The roller derby girls were there, and I decided I want to play roller derby.”

“What would your roller derby name be?”

“I would be Smashalie.”

I crack up. “That is most excellent, Smashalie. I don’t think we have roller derby on the Xbox, but I would love it if you want to be my teammate in NBA 2K.”

But Natalie has very little interest in the video games. Ten minutes later, she puts down her controller and turns to Violet on the other side of her on the couch. “Are you one of the nurses?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m here with Cooper.”

“Are you his sister?”

She laughs. “No.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m his hairdresser.”

Natalie’s eyes widen. “He has a hairdresser?”

She nods my way. “Of course. How else would we make sure his hair looked so messy all the time?”

“His hair is super messy. But yours is pretty. Did you do your own hair?” Natalie asks, pointing to Violet’s coffee-colored hair, twisted up on one side in a small silver barrette.

“I did,” Violet says. “I can pretty much do any style you can imagine.”

Natalie raises her hand and touches her own hair. It’s a little longer than her shoulders. “I didn’t have hair for a while. But I have some again now.”

“You have gorgeous hair.” Violet stops, considers it, and says, “Have you ever worn a French braid?”

Natalie shakes her head. “I tried, but they’re hard to do. Can you actually do a French braid?” she asks with complete wonder in her tone.

“I can do two French braids. One on each side. If you wanted three, I could even do that.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Natalie raise two fingers then whisper, “I really want two. The roller derby girl I liked had two French braids.”

Soon, I lose track of the game. Instead, I can’t take my eyes off Violet. She and Natalie have moved to a corner of the couch. Violet is kneeling by Natalie’s side, her fast hands lacing chunks of red hair into a neat, tight braid down one side of the young girl’s head. When she reaches the end, I take a closer look and see Violet has looped the bottom through with a French braid she’d already woven down the other side. Holy hair skills.

Violet grabs her phone, snaps a picture, and shows the back of Natalie’s head to a girl who, a mere year ago, didn’t even have hair.

“I look like a roller derby girl now,” Natalie says in awe.

“You’re Smashalie,” Violet declares.

My heart expands in my chest, thumps hard against my rib cage, and I know that this is the moment when I want to take Violet home with me. It’s not because she’s sexy. It’s not because she’s clever. It’s because she’s good.

She’s so good that I want to find a way to turn this pretend relationship into the real thing, because it already feels that way for me.





24





Life gets in the way.

When we leave the hospital, I swear I’m ready to say, “Be mine. Screw this pretend stuff.”

After Jillian says goodbye and takes off for the training facility, Violet and I head to my car. I take her hand, and like I did the other night at my house, I decide to just go for it. “Hey, Vi. Would you ever want to go out on a date—”

“Cooper Armstrong. Can I just ask one question?”

I whip around and nearly groan when I see a local sports radio host known as Todd the Talker striding across the asphalt and cutting in. Todd invited me on his show earlier this year after a weekend when I played like crap, and he pointedly asked, “Why should we, the fans, consider you anything besides the insurance plan that didn’t pan out?”

To his credit, a few weeks later, he was the first to declare I’d turned the ship around. “What can I do for you, Todd? I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

He thrusts his cell phone at me, so I guess he’s recording this. I also surmise he’s not going to tell me how he found me, but I remember another reason I don’t like social media since I suspect he follows the team’s Twitter and a photo has already been posted from my visit here today. “Is it true the Renegades are waiting to see if you make it to the playoffs before they re-sign you?”

I flash a practiced smile at the sandy-blond dude with a chipped front tooth. “That’s entirely up to the GM.”

“If you don’t make it, we hear that New Orleans is first in line to sign you as a free agent, given its woeful quarterback situation. Would you go to New Orleans?”

“New Orleans is a great town.”

“So, does that mean you’re going to New Orleans?”