Page 18 of Send It
I cringe, knowing I’m going to go. “I don’t know, bro.”
He pouts, like the goofy ass mother fucker he is.
“Fine,” I snap. “I’ll go.”
He claps his hands together, “Good, because you and Lincoln need to figure out your shit and get back to the way ya’ll used to be. All this fighting is ridiculous.”
I sigh, “We aren’t fighting.”
“Well, whatever. She’s my sister, so ya’ll need to get back on speaking terms.”
I shove the kissing terms out my mind, “I know. We’re fine, man.”
He smiles, “Just promise me that you will be nice to her, since it’s her birthday.”
“I’m always nice.”
He eyes me. “Then be extra nice.”
Instead of arguing, I agree with him. Promising to be on my best behavior. But now not only do I have to spend the whole weekend with Reiss and Lincoln, I have to do it without my number one play. I’m not going to be able to avoid her.
After finishing a top end rebuild on one of the practice bikes, I wash up and go inside. I need to go home and shower, but I want to accidentally run into Lincoln. I haven’t seen her all day, and after last night I feel like I need to apologize.
The second Reiss walked in the room, it’s like a switch flipped in me. I need to tell her how I really feel. How I can’t even see straight when she’s in the room. I need to tell her everything, and more than that, I need to tell Reiss everything.
The house is quiet as I enter and Reiss walks down from his room, his hair wet from a shower.
“Where’s Linc? I wanted to see what she wants for her birthday.” I lie.
He shrugs, walking past me to the fridge, “She said she was going to meet Jackson for dinner.”
My heart sinks.
You were an asshole last night, Colson.
“I’ll uh… catch up with her later then,” I fumble over my words, and pull out my phone on my way out to my truck. Typing as fast and as furiously into it as possible. I have to make this right.
Colson
I’m sorry about last night. Please come over.
I wait and wait for a response, but one never comes.
10
Lincoln
I told Reiss I was going out with Jackson because I couldn’t tell him where I was really going. Not without a million questions. So I lied.
“Who are you here to see, doll?” The receptionist asks, chomping her gum so loudly that I could hear it before I ever opened the door.
“Charlotte Raines,” I say.
She jots something down in the book in front of her and takes her pen to point down the hall, “Head on down.”
“Thanks,” I smile, walking in the direction of her room, praying that Colson doesn’t decide to come here tonight. That might be weird to explain.
Like, oh hey Colson, I just came to visit your nana because no one else does and I know she’s important to you.
