Page 28 of Burnout
“You’re staring again.”
“I am not.” I tear my gaze away from Knox. Oh, I was absolutely staring. But that’s just because I want to know where he is at all times so I can avoid him.
I can’t believe he thought he could show up here today and play nice like he wasn’t a complete asshole to me yesterday.
“Liar.” Quinn glances over the top of her heart-shaped sunglasses and smiles all too knowingly. “I get it. He’s hot. Stare away. In fact, I think you should go over there and make out with him.”
I scoff. “Absolutely not. I’d rather die having never had sex again than let him touch me.”
“Bite your tongue!” My friend gasps and flails her arm out to punch me in the shoulder. We’re lying side by side in lounge chairs, soaking up the last rays of the day. I should probably put more sunscreen on. I can feel my skin burning, but this is likely the last weekend pool hang for a while. Now that practices have started, each week will just get more intense before competitions start early next year.
And since I’m still not back one hundred percent from my injury, I have a long road ahead of me. Lots of extra sessions equals less time for things like this.
Quinn sits up and turns so her legs hang over one edge of the chair. “I’m going to take a dip in the pool.”
“Have fun,” I singsong, and then watch as she steps into the shallow end where Colter is hanging with some friends, Knox included. Her boyfriend pulls her in front of him, wrapping both arms around her waist, all while continuing to talk. They’re cute.
I close my eyes behind my sunglasses and relax. Something about lying out in the sun, music playing, people talking and having fun all around me, is just what I needed today. That jerk Knox is the exclusion from that dream scenario, obviously.
I’m about to turn over onto my stomach when a shadow falls over me. I open my eyes from their half-closed state and find the exclusion staring down at me.
“What do you want?” I ask, closing my eyes again. If I don’t look at him, I can’t be annoyed at how hot he is. Jerks shouldn’t be allowed to be hot.
I feel him, more than see him, take the lounge chair that Quinn abandoned not long ago. “Just working on my tan.”
“Can’t you do that from across the yard?” I ask, then add quieter, “Or from the other side of town?”
“I’m sorry about last night.”
That makes my eyes open a crack. My head falls to the side, and I take in his expression. “You sound sincere, and you look sincere, but I still don’t believe you.”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
“So, you meant that I’m too girly to be serious about working out?”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“Close enough,” I mumble, focusing my attention forward again. He said I looked like I’d die if I broke a nail. Seriously? Like girls can’t be feminine and also badass. What a prick.
“You weren’t that nice either, if you recall,” he says.
“I’m not the one who was asking a favor.”
“Fair.” That’s all he says for a couple of minutes, and I think that’s the end of it and we’re going to sit here in silence until he gets bored with me, but then his voice returns, quieter this time. “I’m not good at asking for help. I hate it, actually. I’d do just about anything to avoid asking anyone for anything. So yeah, I was a jerk, and I said some shitty things. Most of which weren’t about you at all, but I said them, and I’ll own up to that. I am sorry though, whether you believe me or not.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply, not that I could form one while I’m playing his words over and over again, trying to make sense of them. Knox gets up and jumps into the pool a few feet in front of me, into the deep end. Water splashes onto my toes.
My anger has dissipated, and I’m left only with a weird sense of sadness that I can’t quite put my finger on. Then I’m annoyed that one apology, where he admitted he was a jerk, has me softening toward him. This is why jerks shouldn’t be allowed to be hot. It’s an unfair advantage.
I flip onto my stomach and bury my face into the side of my shoulder so there’s no chance of my stare going to him unintentionally.“I’d do just about anything to avoid asking anyone for anything.”
Why? No, scratch that. I don’t care.
Seconds tick by like they’re wading through quicksand. With a groan I stand and scan the yard until I find him. He’s in the middle of the pool, back to me, talking to the redheaded rider, Brooklyn. I can’t see his expression, but she’s smiling at him like he isn’t the biggest jerk on the planet.
Before I can talk some sense into myself, I climb into the pool and wade toward him. I’m not a great swimmer, despite having always loved being near water. While my friends were taking swim lessons in the summer, my parents doubled up on gymnastics practice.
The water is only five feet where he’s standing, but I’m not much taller than that so I have to bob and tread, not so gracefully, to wait next to him long enough for him to notice.
