Page 131 of Burnout
“This came for you too.”
I shift the heavy vase to accept the bubble mailer. “Thank you.”
I call Knox as soon as I get to my room and can set everything down. I’ve run out of space on my desk, so I’ve had to start placing the flower arrangements on the floor. It’s like a very pretty obstacle course in here. It turns out, Knox doesn’t know how to do anything without doing it all out.
He was so worried about being a good boyfriend and not being there for me while we’re apart, but he’s the most present person even from another state. I know these gifts are his way of making sure I know he’s thinking about me.
Some days are harder than others, but most of the time I just feel incredibly lucky that we both get to do the thing we love.
“Hey,” he answers, sounding out of breath.
“Thank you for the flowers.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I also have a suspicious looking package in my hand,” I say as I stare down at the bubble mailer from a New Mexico address.
“Did you open it?”
“Not yet. I just walked in.” Tearing it open feels like Christmas morning. The only other person I ever get mail from is my mom. I also have this weird vision of Knox standing in line at the post office like a regular human. Who would have thought?
Reaching inside, I pull out a folded hot pink T-shirt. When I hold it up in front of me, I smile at the Neon Punch name and logo in black on the front. On the back it has his number, 18, and Holland. My insides go squishy, and I hug it to my chest.
“I love it. Thank you.” I’m already peeling off my shirt to put this one on instead. It smells faintly like him.
“You’re welcome.”
And then it hits me, “Oh my gosh, their color is pink?”
“Neonpink.”
I burst into laughter.
He makes a noise that’s a mixture of a scoff and a groan. “Andblack.”
I’m laughing so much it’s hard to talk. “You’re going to have to wear pink? This is too good.”
His own quiet chuckles join in a second later. “At least now it’ll make me think of you.”
FORTY-SIX
I’min my truck driving when Avery calls.
“Hey, princess,” I say when I answer.
“Hey.” Her cheery voice replies, and it’s like a hit of dopamine directly into my veins. “How was your day?”
“Good. How was yours?”
“Pretty good. Practice was tough. I’m working on another vault combination and it’s similar to one I did last year, and my brain keeps trying to do that instead. It’s frustrating.”
“You’ll get it,” I assure her.
She hums a sound that’s not exactly agreement. “What about you? How’s everything there? I miss you. Oh, I got some fun news today!”
“Miss you too.” I take the first Valley exit off the freeway. “I met with the new trainer today. He’s agreed to let me put together some of my own off-track training.”
“Handstands galore?” she asks, mocking me.
