Page 59 of Burnout
Hendrick and I both shake our heads. The crowd thins out around us, everyone piling into the cafeteria to stand in the concession line.
I’m checking my phone. I had to miss today’s practice session with Avery for Flynn’s game, but we’ve been texting back and forth. Silly stuff. She just sent me a video of a three-year-old doing the press handstand and said, “Watch this kid for tips.”
I’m not even sure if she’s joking. Probably not. I give it a thumbs-up and then reply, “Watch these girls for tips.” And put in the link for Pornhub.
I’m laughing to myself as Hendrick leans back and props his feet up on the bleacher in front of us. “This place never changes.”
“Nope,” I say without looking up.
“It’s weird to think about coming back here someday with our own kids and it all being exactly the same.”
I lift my gaze. It takes me a second to process his words. “Kids? Is Jane pregnant?”
“What?” He waves me off. “No. I was just thinking.”
“About kids?”
“Well, yeah. Eventually. Jane wants to finish school and get married first, and I want to have a house and make sure the bar is doing well.”
He’s serious. Damn. I knew things in his life were changing. He and Jane got engaged a year ago and she practically lives at our house, but kids? A house? Fuck.
“A little Hollywood.” I smile as I think about Hendrick as a parent. He’s going to be an overbearing prick to anyone who hurts his kid, and they’ll most definitely have him wrapped around their finger. “I hope they get Jane’s looks.”
“Yeah, me too.” His chest rises and falls with a short laugh.
Avery texts back a selfie of her giving me the finger. I chuckle as I send an angel emoji back.
“Who are you texting?” Hendrick asks.
“Avery. That girl that’s training me.”
“The gymnast,” Hendrick says, more statement than question.
“Yep.”
“Are you two dating?”
“No,” I say quickly and slide my phone into my pocket.
“Oh, come on. Don’t act like Flynn when I ask if he likes a girl. You’re texting her and laughing. I’m not an idiot.”
“We’re just talking.”
“Naked?”
“Is that how you talk to people?” I mock him. “No wonder you don’t have any friends.”
“You know what I mean. Are you fucking her or not?” he asks as a group of parents walk by. Their disapproving glares are priceless.
Hendrick shoots them an apologetic smile and I hide my laughter behind a fist.
Before we can compose ourselves, Archer and Brogan reappear with snacks. Brogan tosses me a bag of M&Ms. I always tell him I don’t want anything, and he always gets me something. I think it’s to make up for how annoying he is all the time.
Brogan sits in front of us, but Archer stands with a contemplative look on his face.
“You make a better door than window,” I tell him and also sign. Flynn’s team is stepping back onto the floor behind him. Not that I can see.
“I think I saw Dad outside,” he says finally.
