Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(63)
“You here to make a deal or stand there like a *?” the guy asked, causing his friend to cackle loudly.
Was this really how it worked? I’d ask them for drugs and they’d hand them over, like convenience store clerks?
The moment felt fake, like we were actors on a set rather than real people on the streets of Austin.
Even as I answered them with a shaky voice—“Oxy”—my eyes scanned my surroundings, waiting for someone to stop and take notice. I had to be sure there were no witnesses. I’d just competed and won gold at Worlds two months earlier. I was slotted for the Olympics and if I got caught buying drugs, my career would be over. More than over, it’d go up in flames.
“You look like a f*cking narc, pretty boy,” the leader said, stepping forward and sizing me up.
I was tall for my age and built from years of training. I knew I didn’t look seventeen, and this guy didn’t believe me even as I tried to assure him. “I’m just looking to buy oxycodone.”
He snarled and spit in my face. “Get out of my sight, hombre.”
His saliva didn’t faze me; I was desperate.
“Please,” I begged, my voice strained.
He glanced back at his friend, like Get a load of this guy, and then before I could register his movement, he reared back and punched me in the stomach so hard I keeled over, feeling vomit coat my esophagus.
“Go get your mommy-high somewhere else, pinche cabron.”
He reared back again, kicking his foot into the side of my lungs. I hit the concrete with a heavy thud, coughing and sputtering for breath. My palm hit the ground, trying to find balance, and I squeezed my eyes closed, prepared for more destruction.
Their laughter sliced through the air as they turned and walked away, proud of themselves. I opened my eyes and stared sideways at their feet, opening my mouth and hearing myself wheeze in haggard breaths.
When they turned the corner, I heard laughter. Loud cackles filled the air around me. I whipped my head around, trying to find the source, and then it slowly sank in: the realization that the sound was coming from me. It was a real, non-pill-induced laugh, followed sharply by acute pain. For so long I’d been numb, wallowing at rock bottom while being told I was reaching the top. I had always been skeptical about people who claimed to have had “eureka” moments, but there on the concrete, my nerves felt as if they were firing at all once. They’d been held back for so long and now that the dam was broken, there was no stopping them. I stayed on the concrete as my body shook with the weight of my emotions.
Numbness had been comfortable; the ability to feel hurt like hell.
That day, I’d gone looking for drugs, and maybe I’d found them—by the time I stumbled back to my car, I felt euphoric for the first time in 13 years.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brie
After convening for an emergency training summit in Seattle, WA last month, the U.S. women’s gymnastics team and new coach Erik Winter claim they are fully prepared to take the world stage. The team is set to arrive in Rio de Janeiro today, and soon the world will see if these five Olympians can meet or exceed the lofty expectations set by a strong performance at this year’s Worlds.
After all the discussion of the eleventh hour coaching change, all eyes will likely now focus on Olympic Cinderella Brie Watson. The rookie Watson will expect to face fierce competition in pursuit of gold, but her performance at the upcoming qualifications will—
“Guys we need to go!” Rosie yelled up the stairs.
I tossed my phone on my bed like Rosie was standing right behind me, catching me red-handed. I didn’t read articles. I didn’t Google my name or stay up to date with what the media was writing. It was easier to stay free of distractions in a bubble of naiveté, but that morning, I couldn’t help myself. We were trending on Facebook and I’d hovered my finger over the hot link until finally, I’d clicked it. There was already enough pressure building up inside me, so reading sentences about how “all eyes will be on Olympic Cinderella Brie Watson” made my insides churn.
I wasn’t Cinderella, and just as no fairy godmother was going to magically plop me onto the podium, no prince was going fit me for designer pumps afterward. I was on my own.
“We have to be at the airport in thirty minutes!” Rosie yelled again, trying to catch our attention.
“Shit.”
I turned my attention back to my suitcase on the floor and bent down to try to yank the zipper closed. My stuff had fit in it a month ago, but now that we were leaving for Rio, my belongings had apparently doubled in size.
“Here,” Molly said, pressing her full weight on top of it so I could zip it quickly. I shot her a thankful smile and pushed to my feet.
“Do we have everything?” she asked, scanning the room.
“Did you pack your dildo collection?”
“Ha ha ha, so funny.”
“Electric nipple clamps?”
“Oh my god. You’re officially worse than Lexi.”
We checked over the room one last time, confirming we weren’t leaving anything behind. The room was small, but my bunk had been cozy, and when I flipped the light switch and walked out, I felt a pang of sadness hit my stomach, almost like I was going to miss the place. Almost.
Truthfully, I couldn’t wait to get out of Erik’s guesthouse. The last month had been difficult, not only for my head but also for my heart. I wanted to play tough for Erik. I wanted to show him I could be just as cool and indifferent as he was, but my armor was starting to chip.