Page 29 of The Player Penalty
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”
∞∞∞
“Drink?” Julian asks.
I wrinkle my nose. Everyone leaving the drink stand carries a beer bottle, with only the brand changing. “I’d rather not.”
“Have you ever had alcohol before?”
The question annoys me. It’s a perfect reminder he still sees me as a little child, no matter our friendship. Innocent and in need of protecting. In this regard, he’s not much different from my father. “More than once. I’m not a child, Julian.”
He steps back. “I wasn’t implying that.”
The question implied precisely that, but I won’t argue. We’re closer than ever, and there are still times I feel so childish in his presence, and that question doesn’t help. No matter my age, the fact that I have to work so damn hard at everything makes me feel ancient at times.
People have habits, and I need to work on remembering every single time. It wears you down.
We wind up at an impromptu stage with a band playing live music. People dance on the beds of nearby trucks.
“This is what people do before races?”
“You aren’t impressed,” he says.
Fascinated and repulsed. “My curiosity is sated.”
An old feeling creeps between my shoulder blades, pecking at my skin so it can’t be ignored.
We stand in silence, listening to the music. Beside me, Julian watches the crowd, his eyes moving from one person to another.
He’s prowling, I realize, with me right next to him.
“Julian, there you are. I hoped you’d appear.”
She puts both arms around his neck and leans in. The gesture is too intimate to be mistaken for anything but what it is—an offer.
“Samantha. It’s been a while. I’m here with someone.”
“So am I.” She doesn’t even look at me. Blond and tall, Julian’s type.
“Lily, give me a minute, will you?”
At my nod, he takes the woman’s hand and leads her away, far enough not to be overheard.
They speak, and her smile grows bigger.
That feeling still pecks, and this time, it breaks through to burrow down in my stomach. It’s saved me from more than one frightening situation.
Escape.
I back up and disappear into the crowd.
That feeling has never been wrong, not once.
∞∞∞
The walk back to my trailer is short, even dawdling the way I am. Dad will want to play a board game or cribbage, saying it’s just like old times.
All dressed up and nowhere to go.
