Page 122 of Burnout
It would be so easy to say yes and to let us fall back into the way things were, but then he’s going to leave, and it’ll break my heart all over again.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I tell him, glancing down. “I missed you too and, of course, I want to hang out, but then what?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t have it all figured out, but I know that I want to see you when I can. I’ll be back most weekends. Things don’t have to change.”
His hand reaches out and he hooks his pinky finger with mine.
“That’s the thing, though. I don’t want to just keep hanging out when our schedules align. I mean, I do want that, but it’s not all I want. I wantmore. I want you all the time, even when we’re not together.”
“You think you do, but then what happens if you get bored with having a boyfriend that’s only around every other weekend? It’s a lot of pressure on both of us. What we have is good. Why mess with it?”
I suck in a deep breath and stare into his beautiful hazel eyes. “Because I’m in love with you, Knox.”
The panic on his face is immediate. Is he really that surprised?
“I—” he starts and then stops. His jaw tightens and his throat works with a swallow.
“You don’t have to say anything. I know you don’t feel the same or want a relationship. One of the things I admire most about you is how honest you’ve always been with me. But ifI’mbeing honest, I can’t keep hooking up with you, pretending like it’s what I want. I know I said that I didn’t want a relationship, and I meant it at the time. But somewhere along the line I fell hard for you anyway.”
“Avery.” His voice cracks on my name.
“It’s okay,” I say, letting him off the hook. Knowing he doesn’t feel the same is one thing but hearing it would break my heart. “I have to go.”
I take a step and then pause to look at him. His brow is furrowed, and he looks…lost.
“It really was good to see you. Good luck in New Mexico.”
FORTY-TWO
The Valley High Schoolgym is packed tonight. Hendrick and I share a look as we walk in and head to our usual seats. They’re taken, but Archer and Brogan wave from a section over.
“Did you know?” Hendrick asks me.
I shake my head. It’s Parents’ Night, which explains why there are nearly double the number of people. All the players’ parents made extra effort to be here and show their support.
The whole premise of the night annoys me, but I realize I’m probably just bitter that Flynn doesn’t have parents to show up for him like his teammates do.
He didn’t mention anything about tonight, but every year it’s the same. There’s always shirts or signs or some designation that all the parents have to stand out among the crowd. This year it appears it’s buttons. Big, circular ones with the player’s team photo on them. Good god.
“Awww. You’re gonna look so ridiculous with one of those pinned to your chest in eighteen years for a little Hollywood. Promise you’ll send pics?”
Hendrick shoots me an annoyed look, but there’s a spark of excitement that he can’t quite conceal.
We take our seats without saying anything. Flynn is under the basket rebounding balls one-handed while his team warms up. He has a tentative smile on his face as he glances over. I try to read into it. Is he feeling left out by the whole thing? Missing Mom more than usual? It probably feels like an added gut punch that it’s his senior year. Or maybe he’s thankful he won’t have to endure another one of these.
“Any sign of Dad?”Archer signs to me and Hendrick.
“No.” Hendrick’s jaw flexes. Dad hasn’t shown up again since the hospital. He stayed while Flynn was in surgery, but then didn’t even bother to go back and see him when he was out. I wish I were surprised.
“What a piece of shit,”Brogan says quietly, signing it for Arch.
We’re all in agreement there.
“If he was going to show up any night, the least he could do is show up on Parents’ Night and make himself useful,” Hendrick says. “I used to fucking hate this night.”
“Same,” Archer and Brogan say at the same time.
“He doesn’t deserve to be recognized as a parent,” I say.
