Page 112 of Burnout
His smile pulls back into the easy, playful one I’ve grown so accustomed to. He walks over to the bed and takes my hands,pulling me up and into his arms. “Trust me. I know what it’s like to have people you care about pop in and out of your life. Always waiting around, always hoping for things that don’t happen, always disappointed. I don’t want that for you, and I could never let myself do that to another person.”
I smash my lips together to keep them from quivering.
“New Mexico isn’t that far. Maybe you can visit one weekend,” he says as casually as if he were telling an old friend he hoped he’d see them around town sometime.
“Yeah. Maybe.” Surprisingly my voice comes out much steadier than the beating of my heart as it cracks.
Knox brushes a kiss over my lips and smiles. “Come on, let me feed you and then we can drive back to Valley. We have a few days before I leave, and I know just how I want to spend them.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
The next fewdays go by quickly. I chat with Burt, the team owner of Neon Punch, and dig him immediately. He raced when he was younger before deciding he wanted to be a lawyer. He did that for fifteen years and then, in his words, decided he was tired of sitting behind a desk.
His team is new, but they already have a lot of backing from heavy-hitting sponsors, one of which they poached from Thorne. I’m excited.
But there’s this underlying emotion that’s been nagging me all week. My brothers were stoked for me and they all reassured me that it was fine, that this is what I had been working for. I’ve been gone before, so it shouldn’t feel any different. Maybe it’s because Flynn’s almost done with school and his days and weeks are filled with school activities that tout it being the final or last. It’s funny, really, since I didn’t care about those things during my own senior year.
And then there’s Avery. I can’t get her out of my head. We’ve hung out as much as we can, but there aren’t that many hours between her school and practice, and me hanging out with my brothers and getting ready to go.
Things are weird between us. She hasn’t said anything else about wanting to keep hanging out, but I can feel her disappointment. I’m bummed that we won’t be able to see each other as often, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to promise that things will be the same.
I saw what it was like for my mom and for our family when my dad came and went when it was convenient for his schedule. I won’t do that to someone, least of all Avery.
Tonight is my last night in Valley. Avery had a late practice, but she’s going to meet me after Flynn’s basketball game. It could be a big game for him. Scouts from two of his top universities are in attendance. He’s still not sure if he wants to play basketball in college, in addition to baseball, but having options is great.
While the team warms up, I think through my schedule for the rest of the week. The initial meeting should only take a few days, so I can probably get back mid next week. I’m lost in my thoughts, wondering when I can squeeze in time to see her, when Archer and Brogan take their usual seats in the row in front of me and to the left. Brogan hands over a bag of plain M&Ms.
“Thanks.” I kick one foot out onto the bleacher in front of me.
Hendrick drops down into the seat beside me, Jane on his other side.
“The gang’s all here,” I say, leaning forward to wave at my brother’s fiancée. “Hey, Hollywood.”
“Hey, Knox.” Her smile is tight.
“I gotta talk to you about something,” Hendrick mutters, tipping his chin toward me and speaking quietly.
“What’s up?” I’m distracted by the buzzer and the players jogging over to their
respective benches.
“Dad’s here.”
“What?” I ask loudly, snapping my attention to him. There’s no way I heard him right.
He tilts his head toward the door, and I turn to see our dad walking in.
What the actual fuck?
I start to stand to tell him to leave, but Hendrick places an arm out to keep me in my seat.
“Wait,” he says. “Look at Flynn.”
Clenching my jaw, I do as he says. We’re not the only ones that spotted our prick of a father. Flynn’s noticed Dad’s here too, and he’s got a tentative smile on his face. My blood is boiling.
Dad scans the gym like he’s taking it all in for the first time in years, which I guess he is. About ten years too late. He must feel the fury of our stares because his gaze lands on us and his steps slow.
“Hi, boys.” He tips his head in greeting.
