Play The Part (Player Next Door Book 3)

01 | A Rule You Follow

Some of you had faith we would meet here again.

Others think cobwebs have grown over the shell of this story. 

And YET, here we are once more.  Have your popcorn ready, because we are about to re-encounter a raccoon and some other folks.  

Happy reading :) 

Chapter 01: A Rule You Follow

Saturday, 10am

Doz woke up this morning and sprung out of bed with a pep in his step.

He pondered the meaning of life as he swept open the curtains and let the bright sunlight stream in. Then he moseyed on into the kitchen and opened the fridge to find more air inside. A fridge of fully stocked air.

He expertly poured himself a glass of air and-

"Are you narrating my life, Millie?"

I blinked.

Doz turned around and stared at me from across the room. I was sitting at the dining room table with my math textbook out and nothing but painful pages of exercises, surrounding me. Drowning me.

Had I really just narrated my mom's boyfriend's walk to the kitchen as if he was the main character in a musical?

Yes.

After all, he is Doz.

Doz, the Musical...

I'd buy a ticket to see that.

"Doz," I confessed to him, "I think I'm going crazy."

"Well, you've come to the right person," he said and shut the fridge, "I specialize in crazy."

Technically, I didn't come to him at all, but I'll just go with it.

Doz walked over to me with his empty cup in hand, tugging at the neckline of his red t-shirt. His baggy, yellow tracksuits made swishy sounds as he walked.

"What's going on, little one?"

"Doz," I sighed, "I suck at math, my boyfriend is going to graduate soon, I have a blackmailer on the loose, only two cups of coffee today and my dad who went out to get milk a decade ago is a phone call away and that thought is haunting me."

Doz stared at me like I was speaking a different language.  His goatee twitched. 

It took a minute for him to react. "I'm trying to think about what medication I got for that."

"Maybe we can just talk?" I suggested.

He looked uncomfortable, "Uh, I'm not used to talking to teenage girls so, where do you want to begin?"

"At the worst part?" I suggested, pressing my face in my hands.

"Right, right, right," Doz scratched the back of his neck, "The part about your dad."

My mouth was still squished against my hands, so my words came out muffled, "No. The part about no coffee."

**

Saturday, 3pm

The beach was bathed in the warm light of the afternoon sun. There was still a chill in these early days of spring and I inhaled the salty air, wrapping my jacket tighter around me.

It was Doz's advice to come here. Get some fresh air. Go to nature.

The beach was an hour away from my home, but I have the fondest memories here. Last summer was when I met Luke and Austin, when we met the biker gang and had milkshakes in the Surfside Shack.