Page 22 of Burnout
“Oh, I definitely wanted to.” Might as well have for the way things ended up. “I don’t know, maybe it’s a stretch to think they’ll take me back no matter what I do.”
“Nah, I think it’s a good idea.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. It’s like when Coach Cook benches one of us for hogging the ball. He always threatens to make us sit there until we have splinters, but he never does. He just needs time to cool down, then he gives us another chance. Your team will too.”
“I hope so. I really don’t want splinters in my ass.”
My brother smirks and then we fall quiet as we watch the bikes take off up the ramp and spin in the air.
“We should get you home,” I say, finally pulling myself off the ground. “Do you have homework tonight?”
“A little.” He stands in front of me. Sometime over the last month he’s shot up another inch. He’s lanky still, not quite grown into his body, but he’s going to be the tallest and broadest of all of us someday.
Flynn stands in front of the truck, watching the riders until my bike is loaded, then he walks backward and pulls himself up into the passenger seat, never tearing his gaze away.
“How long has it been since you rode?” I ask him.
He shrugs, lifting both shoulders up to his ears. “I don’t know. Nine years or so. I think I was eight.”
Since Mom died. A lot changed after that. I silently curse myself for not taking him with me. I rode to get away from everything, but Flynn didn’t have that option. That’s probably why he started playing every school sport that he could.
“We should go sometime. I know some good easy spots out on the east side of town where we can take the bikes and ride.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
I hold back a smile at him trying not to appear too eager, but I catch the smile he’s fighting.
Later that night I’m lying in bed, muscles tight and so exhausted I’m fighting sleep before it’s completely dark outside. Archer and Brogan are playing video games and their voices carry through the thin walls.
Scrolling through Instagram, I heart a couple of photos of chicks I’ve hooked up with in the past. I can’t remember the last time I went out and cut loose. Since the end of the season, I’ve been wound too tightly.
Messages start to pop up in response to my liking pictures, but before I click on them, I come to Flynn’s most recent post. My breath catches as I read the caption.My brother is a badass. Wait until you see the other tricks up his sleeve.And above it is a video of me performing a heel clicker. It actually doesn’t look too bad. He caught me at just the right angle.
I watch it a dozen times, rereading his words and letting them fill me with hope and determination.
I sit up, groaning as I do, and close out of the app. I text Colter before I think better of it.
Me
I’m in. Send me Avery’s information.
If Flynn thinks I can do this, then I want to do everything I can to prove him right.
EIGHT
“That one was better,”I say as Hope completes another turn almost perfectly. After only one day, she’s made huge improvements.
“Now can I work on dismounts?” Her excitement at the prospect is contagious.
“Yes, now we can work on dismounts.”
She squeals and gets into position at one of the beams and prepares for a back tuck dismount into the foam pit. She’s flawless and her smile widens each time she launches herself into the air.
I continue practicing some of my own skills on the mat: leaps and turns, mostly. My knee has been holding up, but I’ve already put a lot of strain on it today with practice earlier, so I don’t want to push it too much.
“Wow!” Hope climbs onto the beam and stops. At first, I think she is amazed by my split leap with full turn, but she isn’t looking at me at all.
