Not My Kind of Hero

by Pippa Grant

And the minute we find Junie’s soccer ball?

Just wait..

He finds it under a panel of boards, lifts it in the air, and calls, “Hey, June, you wanna frame this?” After a beat of total silence, Junie does the last thing I would expect, and she cracks up. “What’s the story with the soccer ball?” It’s a murmur going through the whole group of ranchers and teachers and residents of Hell’s Bells who have come out to help us today. Junie’s friends too. I’m sure many of them know she wanted to be on the team but that we got here too late and Flint wouldn’t bend the rules. And I’m sure those people who know suspect there’s tension there, and they’d be right.

Wait….

But Junie strides right up to Flint, takes the ball from him, tucks it under her arm, and faces the crowd. “I was out here kicking it around yesterday, and when I turned one of my cones, it whispered, ‘June. Juniper. That barn is so ugly. If you kick me, I’ll take it down,’” June answers dramatically. A few people share nervous glances, but more laugh or giggle. “So I was like, ‘No, ball. No. That’s bad. That’s wrong.’ And the ball whispered, ‘But if you don’t use me to take it down now, someone could get hurt if they’re inside when it falls. You need to do this. You need to do this to save lives.’ And so I trusted the ball, and I trusted the universe. I knew if the ball was lying, it would bounce off, but instead, it went right through the wall and took down the whole barn.” A few people look at me. I shrug. “She took the barn down with the ball. That part’s true.” “Saw it myself,” Flint says. “She had to have hit the side at exactly the right weak spot to do it,” I add, “but she did it. I actually think the ball did talk to her.” “I have a way with balls,” Junie announces. She blinks, her face goes redder than a tomato, and Flint and I both rush in to save her at the exact same time.

This entire fucking scene makes me sick. It’s so cringe.

can make sun tea.

If you’re trying to get people beverages right now, you cannot get them sun tea. Shit takes at least four hours and requires THE SUN.

“Not like this. And not for a while. Jesus. The ball whisperer.” “It’s genetic, you know.” He slides a look at me, then glances around. Closest other person is over ten feet away, loading up another truck. “Soccer?” he says flatly. I smile. “Whispering to balls.”

I’m about to fucking throw up lunch. Why do I HATE this so much? Why is this novel so cringey and bad? How did Pippa Grant fool me with one incredible book, only for every one I’ve read after to be a dud??

Maisey arrived here every bit as lost as some of the kids I work with at the school. Looking for where they fit in and belong in this world, with not enough support at home. Their parents are often in over their heads, doing the best they can but not nearly good enough for what their kids need.

Oh so you’re aligning her with your students. How incredibly hot. 🙄

She gives me a playful shove in the biceps. “What I lack in cooking skills, I make up for with knowing how to use a hammer.” Yep. Contemplating my cock as her hammer, and there’s no half about how hard I am anymore. “I have some hammering that needs to be done.”

Yep…there goes my lunch. Ugh.

“I wanted to find me”—I whisper—“and I think I did. In you.”

(Vomits)