Winston Duty retired six years ago, but he was now the head coach for the Seattle Thunder.

Oh.

My.

God.

The Seattle Thunder.

I was wheezing.

How many records is too many to break for the Guinness Book of World Records?

I bent over, my hands on my knees, but I couldn’t get any air out. I was panicking and pissing myself from excitement all at the same time. And I was about to pass out.

“Charlie!” Hadley hissed my name from behind, and I tried to turn around. I really did.

She was probably motioning for me to get to safety. Hide and die. But I couldn’t. My knees were melting. My feet were already in a puddle. I was sure that really was pee dripping down my legs.

This was my dream come true, if I lived to relish it.

A hand wrapped around my arm and jerked me backward. I clutched it and raised my head. I was pretty sure that was Owen’s hair just in front of me. He pulled me into the kitchen’s office and shoved me in the chair. They pushed my head between my knees, and Hadley kneeled in front of me.

“Breathe, Charlie. Breathe.” She patted me on the back.

I couldn’t. I kept shaking my head, pointing past them and out the door. Did they not know who was out there? No. The joke was on me. They did.

The Seattle Thunder. Reese Forster. My favorite all-time team and player.

Those were his coaches. If they were here, it meant one thing.

I was so unbelievably stupid.

The Seattle Thunder was having their training program here. HERE! AND I WAS HERE TOO!

All the fangirling, fanatical fan/obsessive stalker inside of me was freaking the fuck out.

Aliens. I’d talked like an alien, and it seemed I wasn’t done.

“Whobegodan ham—”

They were snickering at me. They were laughing.

I darted forward, knocking my hand against the back of Owen’s knee as he turned for a moment. He went down, but caught himself, shaking his head.

That was the old Charlie. I did annoying stuff like that, but it was payback this time.

I glared as I tried to keep breathing. Nostrils, open on my command.

“You fuckers,” I finally managed.

They bent over in laughter. Hadley was leaning on Owen’s arm.

“The look on your face.” She pointed at me.

I whipped out a hand, knocking it aside. “What’s your favorite sexual position—” I caught myself. “Please don’t answer that.”

She just pointed again and smiled. “We never do. We ignore your questions.”

Years of friendship here. We were past what was polite. It was like the eight-year absence never existed, and then I was laughing too. I mean, I was trying not to think about who was out there—and maybe now standing in the front office’s hallway—because if I did, it’s straight to the language of the Arguchamites.

“What’s going on?” came another voice from the kitchen. There was an attached doorway between the two.

I didn’t even look at Trent. He’d been in on it too.

“She found out who the campers are,” Owen reported.

“Oh.” Trent laughed. “That’s fucking awesome.” He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees and raised his voice. “Can you hear me, Charlie?”

I glared at him. “If everyone was deaf, would anyone speak?”

“She started hyperventilating.”

I shot Hadley a dark look. I was still hyperventilating. There were birds in the room. Goddamn birds.

One of them flew through Trent’s head. He didn’t notice. It came out the other side.

A cocky smirk tugged at his mouth. “Live, Charlie. Live. Are you going to live? Do I need to give you a motivational talk on how to soothe your inner fan?”

I punched him in the stomach.

He dropped. “Oomph.”

Owen and Hadley started laughing all over again.

“Can animals besides parrots and elephants dance?” spilled out of me.

I couldn’t think about who was in the hallway. If I did, the walls in my brain started bending and everything flipped upside down. So therefore, we had normal, wealthy-prick campers out there. I was just here to waste some time, write a little for a novel I’d probably never finish, and deal. I was here to deal. That was it.

As I repeated that, I felt myself calm down.

I could breathe normally. My chest wasn’t threatening to cave in.

I started feeling my feet and legs again, enough where I could stand up.

My three A-hole friends all stopped laughing and moved forward, their hands out to catch me. I was tempted to flip them off. That’s the least they deserved for laughing at me in my moment of stupidity.

“You better now?”

Aw, Hadley. She was nice, and tenderhearted.

Trent snorted. “You mean is she more sane now?” He gently rapped his knuckles against my head. “Did you scramble these tonight?”

Hadley started laughing.

I take back the tenderhearted part.

Owen lifted his shoulder, knocking it back in place. I swear, that wasn’t even about his injury anymore. It was his “we need to get going” signal. That or his “I’m uncomfortable; let’s change the subject” signal.

I waited.

We all did—the two other A-holes quieted too.