Return to Us by Julie Cross

Author:Julie Cross
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Long Walk Press
Published: 2014-05-26T07:00:00+00:00

ChApTeR SeVeN

~Tj~

You’d think with almost all the campers gone and new ones not coming in until tomorrow afternoon, I’d be able to get five fucking minutes alone in the gym.

You’d think.

But here I am face-planting onto the mat in the pit over and over again and some middle-aged white dude is standing in the doorway watching me. I give him the do you want something? ‘Cause if not, I’m kinda busy falling on my face and I’d like to do it alone look, but the dude stares right back and then walks in and parks his ass in the bleachers. What the eff?

I walk back to the end of the tumbling strip, getting ready to try the double twisting double backflip again. How the hell does Stevie Davis pull this off? And now Campbell’s gettin’ close to making it, too.

The dude’s eyes are burning a hole into the side of my head. I really wish he’d leave. I take a deep breath and look down the long line of blue mats. If I had a shirt on, I’d be tugging at the collar right about now. Guilty conscience, Thomas. My mom is always so quick to tell me that, every time my fingers so much as reach in the direction of my collar. I think I get that skill from her. Body language is the one subject I’d have passed with flying colors if it were taught in school. So I know she’s right. But what am I guilty of right now?

Being a poser. Pretending to belong in this world when my name is probably already engraved in the cell beside my dad’s.

Yep, that sounds about right.

I ignore the watching eyes and take off for another attempt. I land hard on my side in the pit. The gym is so quiet the thud echoes through the entire building. I climb out, ignoring the sting covering the right side of my body and keep my eyes straight ahead.

But I see him anyway. Sitting there, now with his elbows resting on his knees, watching me closely. Who is this dude? I don’t recognize him so he must not be a coach or any other staff. Plus he’s wearing jeans and a dress shirt. Not exactly camp attire.

My stomach does its own double twisting double backflip. He can’t be one of the sponsors, can he? Maybe a guest speaker for tomorrow’s opening day of the new camp week? And he’s watching me?

I block out all this guessing shit and focus on tumbling. He’s not here. He’s nobody. I don’t know if it works because after five more passes, I’ve got deep red skin covering my entire right side from landing the exact same way I’ve been landing since I started teaching myself this skill weeks ago. I’m about to take off running again, but halt when I see him stand and walk toward me.

He stops right beside the tumbling strip, his eyes focused on the pit way down at the other end. “Can I see your full twisting double?”

“Why?” I snort back a laugh.

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