Extreme by Lark O'Neal

Author:Lark O'Neal [O'Neal, Lark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: finding yourself, new adult book, new adult romance, Barbara Samuel, star-crossed lovers, Going the Distance, coming of age, not enough money, young love, new adult & college, making your way, New Zealand, new adult, travel, contemporary romance
Published: 2015-12-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter TWELVE

Back at the hotel, my money situation falls on me like a wall. In my room, I open my bank account and stare at the number there, then start running figures on a piece of hotel stationary.

It leaves a lump in my gut. I have enough to see me through about five or six months of training, but that’s it. The X games are coming up—if I win there, it will be a nice infusion of cash, but in my current condition, I’ll be lucky to place in the top ten, much less the high money positions. I’m going to have to figure out something else.

The thing is, I have no marketable skills apart from riding. I haven’t done the jobs some of my friends have—waiting tables, working retail, tending bar, even cleaning hotel rooms. I don’t even know where to start to look for a job, which is probably pathetic, but there it is. Do I just head into a restaurant and ask for an application?

As Madeline pointed out, other people make it work. I just have to find out how. It’s embarrassing that I don’t already have this information, and I guess I’ve been lucky.

I just can’t help thinking that most parents would be thrilled that their child won a gold. I mean, seriously?

But could I have done it without them? That’s a big, ugly question mark in my head. My friend Gigi is just a girl from Park City who learned to ride as a little kid and proved to be really good at it. She could live and shred in the same town, so that helped, but she’s had to finance almost everything on her own. She’s found sponsors in her town and community; I remember vaguely that her church paid the fees for a competition we were in.

I probably can’t find those kinds of supporters, but there must be something I can do. I’d call my sister right now and brainstorm with her, but she’s wrapped up in the new baby, and it wouldn’t be right.

Falling back on the bed, I stare up at the ceiling. The hollow feeling in my chest is new and unfamiliar, and I don’t even know what to call it until I rub my sternum trying to ease it.

Fear. Cold-ass, icy-cold fear.

Do I have the huevos to do both, the training and the hustling? Do I even want to?

But the thought of a life void of training, competition, the company of my tribe makes me feel sick.

No way.

I can’t give it up.

I won’t.

* * *

I’m combing through the hotel bookshelves for something remotely readable when Gabe arrives. He’s wearing a red hat and a red scarf that make him look oddly French, and his eyes are black and glittering. “Hi,” he says, his voice rumbling out of his chest.

The sound lights everything in me on fire. “Hi.”

“You ready?”

“I just have to run upstairs and get my coat. I have the layers on already.”

He folds his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together.

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