Page 125 of Finding Delaware

Following her gaze, my chest tightens a little. “That’s awesome that your parents are here to support you.”

For the most part, the fact that Maisie and Aaron don’t acknowledge my existence doesn’t bother me. Hasn’t for a long time. But there are still those moments where I’ll watch other people with their parents and wonder,what must that be like?

“They’re the best, honestly.” Her face shines with so much love that I have to turn away and watch Christian take his spot.

I already know what trick he’s about to do; we’ve been practicing since February. Still, watching him race toward the ramp and lift twenty feet into the air has my heart jumping into my throat. He extends his legs flat over the handlebars as he backflips, a move called a Dead Body, before extending them up toward the sky in a Rigamortis. Letting go of the handlebars, he lets the bike float away from him for a moment while he flips and then grabs the bars again to pull it back to his body. My breath catches as he comes back down towardearth, and he’s back in his seat just in time to stick the landing down the ramp.

“Fuck yeah!” I shout as I throw out my hands, jumping up and down. “That’s my best friend, motherfucker!”

People in the stands clap, and I see his mom doing the same as me, hopping around while she cheers on her son. He’s back beside me soon after, hazel eyes bright with excitement as we wait for the judges to score him. Freestyle Big Air scores are given on a zero to one hundred scale based on style, trick, difficulty, and originality, among other things. I loop my arm through his while we wait in anticipation, Karlee hanging on to him from the other side. The judges release the final score, and my heart drops.

Eighty-six.

Two points below Karlee, giving him second place.

“Damn.” Leaning my head on his shoulder, I pat his back. “I’m sorry, man. You did really well.”

Karlee gives him a punch on the arm. “I agree. I thought you did better than me, Totillo. That Holy Grab was amazing!”

“It’s all good,” he shrugs, smiling broadly even though I can see the disappointment in his eyes, “I’m just happy to be here. And I bet Salem got some hella sick shots, so that’s a win.”

“For sure, buddy.”

A few more riders go after him because the selection is randomized. All of them are skilled but don’t score any higher. And as luck would have it, I’m the last contestant to go.

The sweat is pooling on my neck as I pull up half of my dark strands to keep them out of my face. Christian and Karlee give me nudges and thumbs up, and when I look to the stands, I immediately lock eyes with Huck. He’s too far away for me tosee what he’s feeling, but his grin of encouragement reaches me all the way over here, and I grin back. I’m tempted to do some dumb shit like blow him a kiss or make a heart with my fingers at him, but I don’t. Mainly because Xed, Matty, and Logan still don’t know what’s been going on between us, but also because I don’t think Huckslee would appreciate the sentiment on Salem’s livestream.

Sliding on my helmet as I climb onto my bike, I ride over the tarmac and do a few circles of warm-ups. Despite the nervous energy vibrating my body, I feel good. Strong. Capable. Especially knowing that Huck is here watching and sending positive vibes my way. It’s like the night of the monster truck rally when Christian and I performed in the Globe of Death. I knew he was watching me, and it just...calmed me. Kept me focused.

I used to picture his eyes before a performance, but now, just seeing him there in the stands is enough to rev me up. My senses are heightened ten-fold, and as I line myself up with the ramp and take off, I can feel his presence keeping me steady. My feet come off the pegs, planting onto the seat in a crouch before my wheels hit the incline. Pulling back, I stand on the seat when I’m upside down and lift a leg onto the handlebars, placing my fists on my hips in what I hope is the first Captain Morgan backflip ever.

The world falls away as I spin, and I hold my breath in freefall for a moment. My stomach flutters up into my chest before I drop back down onto the seat just in time for theimpact of the landing to rattle my bones. That ever-present ache shoots down my shoulder, but it’s duller today, and my form is fucking solid.

Air shotguns out of my lungs, arms like jelly, but I did it!I fucking did it!

As I ride back over to Christian, I can see him punching the sky while Karlee stands with her hands on her cheeks, mouth agape. Christian jumps on me when my helmet comes off, hollering as he bumps his forehead into mine. “Youloco hijo de puta, that shit was insane! And your feet on the seat starting out?!”

“Dude, I just came up with that on the spot,” I laugh, elated as I swing him around in a circle.

Karlee shakes her head, grinning widely as we approach the scoreboard to await the judges. “You two are fuckin’ cute.”

“I know, right.” Christian reaches over to ruffle my hair. “He doesn’t have eyes for me, though.” Leaning close enough that only I can hear, he whispers, “fucker likes to keep it in the family.”

Hissing harshly, I shove him hard enough that he loses balance. “You sick fuck, cut it out.”

Ever since finding out about Huck and I, he’s been giving me non-stop shit for it. The jokes would bother me if they came from anyone else, but I’ve known my best friend all my life. There’s no malicious intent behind his jabs. He’s not one hundred percent on board with the idea, though, only because of Huck punching me out in January. Even after I explained our convoluted history, Christian still isn’t sure he’s over that. The fact that I’m into a guy doesn’t even factor into the equation.

“He’s looking at you right now,cariño.” My best friend twiddles his fingers toward the stands, waggling his brows, and I pull him down into a headlock.

“Stop making it weird!”

“I’m not calling him dad.” Christian struggles against me, quoting the movie Step Brothers for the thousandth time. “Even if there’s a fire!”

“You’re such a fucking jackass.”

“Uh, guys.” Karlee’s voice has us glancing up from where I’ve got his arm twisted around his back. She’s pointing at the board, mouth parted. When I take in the score, my knees nearly give out.

Ninety-two.

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