Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(12)

I used to wonder sadly where the jewelry that should have been my inheritance ended up, but as I grew up I would hear stories about people greedily fighting over the remnants of their parents’ estate, and I realized I was actually lucky. When the day would come that my mother died and there were no cherished heirlooms or family riches to pass down, I’d know it was because she’d already given me everything of herself that she had to give.

My father had left before I was born, never part of our dynamic duo, and truthfully, he was hardly missed through my childhood. My mom and I were a team. She arranged her days, her life, around me. She went into work at 5:00 AM every day so she could finish up in time to pick me up from school and quiz me about vocabulary words on the way to the gym. Five days a week, she sat with the other parents, watching me practice for hours on end with a forgotten paperback sitting on her lap. Every skill I mastered, from a back walkover to a double layout, my mom was there to see it. I’d stick it, smile, and glance up to see her flash me a thumbs up.

While she was committed to my gymnastics, she never pressured me to stay in it for the long haul. Nearly every week, she’d ask if I was still enjoying myself, if my heart was still in it. I knew she was scared of becoming a stage mom, of pushing me to do something I hated. I always reassured her that I loved it, and it was the truth. Gymnastics was in my heart. Competing gave me a rush of endorphins like nothing had before.

Yet every time she told me how proud she was, my chest tightened with sadness. Deep down, I knew that there had to be gold at the end to repay the debt of her selflessness. She had been over the moon that I’d made the Olympic team, and she would be beside herself if I brought home a bronze or silver medal, but those things weren’t enough. For the person who’d sacrificed everything she had so I could follow my dreams, I craved gold.





Later that night, after I’d showered and fallen onto my bottom bunk, exhausted, Molly started chatting my ear off about Host Boy. He had a name (Duncan), but I liked to refer to him as Host Boy.

“We aren’t dating dating. I think his parents would freak out if they thought we liked each other, y’know? I mean, I’m only staying with them so I can train at Flyers. I shouldn’t even be paying attention to their son!”

“Yeah. Mmhmm,” I said, filling in with responses where I thought they should go. “No way!”

It was interesting information, but she’d repeated it on loop for the last hour. Duncan was a year older than her, attending his freshman year of college while living at home, and oh so dreamy. He was funny and great and “Did I already tell you about his dimples?” If I had to hear about him for another second, I’d suffocate myself with my pillow.

“I think we should go out,” I declared, sweeping my feet off the side of the bed and standing up.

Molly leaned over the top bunk, alarmed. She was wearing one of those Hannibal Lector moisturizing face masks. “Go out?” she asked, adjusting the mask. “But Coach Winter said we have to be at the gym really early tomorrow.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re about to be that dude’s slaves for the next eight weeks. I think we deserve one night of fun. Besides, we really need to get to know each other better.”

She nodded. “It could be fun and if we go somewhere close, we could be back early enough to get a good night’s sleep.”

“That’s the spirit!” I clapped. “Now take off that mask and find your skimpiest skirt.”

“But I like Duncan. I don’t want to—”

I held up my hand to stop her. “By all means, put on your nun’s frock to save yourself for Dimpled Duncan. The skirt is for me.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “I have just the thing.”

I headed out into the hallway and pounded on Lexi and Rosie’s door. Rosie whipped it open with wide eyes and a grateful smile. I glanced over her shoulder to see Lexi sitting cross-legged on the floor with her laptop resting on the carpet in front of her.

“Oh! Look, here’s another plug-in model I can show you, Rosie.”

“What’s going on in here?” I asked, glancing over Rosie’s flushed cheeks.

Lexi finally looked up. “Oh, I was just showing Rosie a few of my favorite starter vibes on Amazon. Can you believe she’s never tried one?”

Rosie looked like she wanted to melt into the carpet.

“I wasn’t the one who brought it up!” she exclaimed, trying to clear up the situation. “Lexi said I was missing out if I’d never had…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “…an orgasm before.”

“And I fully stand by that statement,” Lexi added.

“And before I could stop her she’d pulled up all of these vibrating…rabbits, and uh, wands. I didn’t even know Amazon sold stuff like that,” she whispered, the volume of her voice fading until her lips were moving inaudibly.

I had to fight not to laugh. Lexi and Rosie rooming together was a recipe for disaster. Rosie was a virginal lamb compared to Lexi, who probably had more sexual experience than all of us combined. If Rosie survived the month, I’d be surprised.

“Well, put away the research because we’re going out.”

“Finally someone is speaking my language!” Lexi hopped up off the ground and tore off her t-shirt. She already had a black dress on underneath.