They have been talking about me.

King finally turns to me, his lips are pursed, his eyes bright with humor and something else that has him digging for his phone.

“I’ve heard loads about all of you as well. Though, I sort of knew what you all looked like.”

“You did?” Summer’s question makes the muscles between my eyes clench tighter. Leave it to Charleigh to reveal everything—to everyone.

“Sure,” Charleigh replies, unaffected. “Haven’t you seen her sketches? She draws nearly everyone she meets. It’s amazing and awful, really.”

“You’ve drawn me? I want to see! Do you have them here?” Summer’s voice is higher, her eyes brighter.

“Easy there. Don’t you have enough pictures of yourself?” King teases. He releases the door handle and takes a step back, opening the doorway.

“Not a hand-drawn one!” Summer’s response isn’t defensive or teasing. I know that if I don’t bring one over, she will never drop it, likely because it’s not the drawings of her she is interested in, but the few of Kash that I’ve done. I will have to dig through my notepads and bring a couple for her.

“I’ll bring some over next week,” I say, nodding forward, indicating to Charleigh it’s time to go.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Charleigh!” Summer chimes.

“You as well.”

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow!” Mercedes calls.

“Definitely,” Charleigh says with a nod.

“Thanks for the care and help. Sorry again for being such a klutz.”

“I’m thinking it was for the better,” King says, a knowing smile spreading wider across his face.

“Alright, well, I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then. Thanks for the night off.”

“I told you at the hospital it wasn’t a big deal. It’s still not a big deal. If you want next week off, just let me know. Or we can come get you and take you home. It’s your call,” Kash explains.

I give a small smile filled with appreciation and move to Mercedes. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I’ll text you later.”

“Sounds good.” With that I move forward, shooting Charleigh a look to tell her to get moving.

“Who put a bee in your bonnet?” My eyes are wide as they wait for Charleigh to glance in my direction. “What?” Her voice is alarmed, genuinely surprised by my look that is intended to say you know why.

“You told them I draw them!” I hiss.

“You do draw them!” she exclaims. “Besides, I told them you draw everyone. Really, Lauren, you need to stop hanging around me and this angsty kid so much. Americans are supposed to be smiley and happy about nothing, and you’re rarely happy about anything. It’s not normal.”

She doesn’t look at me as we approach her car. It’s probably best that she isn’t because her words serve to do nothing more than remind me of what I’ve been told for most of my life: I’m different.

“Sorry I had to call you. I know you were out on a date last night. I hope I didn’t make you cut it short.”

Her face radiates with a smile as she maneuvers her car into drive and starts heading down the long driveway.

“I’m taking that look to say the date went well. What’s he like?”

Charleigh’s shoulders shrug like she’s trying to remain indifferent, but her lips are pulling up at the corners as though she’s stuffed the last piece of candy in her mouth. I don’t push her for details. As much as I enjoy Charleigh, and like being around her, it’s been clear to me since our friendship began that Allie is her confidant, the one that keeps her centered, her best friend. I try really hard to not be hurt by this since both of them are so accepting of me, and I know genuinely enjoy our time together; it just stings when moments like these occur.

GETTING READY with crutches reminds me of how blessed I am to have been healthy for most of my life, regardless of being too tall and lanky.

Charleigh and Allie knock on my door thirty minutes early with matching faces of concern about me going down the stairs with my crutches. I assure them a half dozen times that I’ll be fine before they stop encouraging me to go down on my hands and butt like a toddler. I’m on the last landing when the Suburban pulls up and King jumps out of the back with a similar expression.

“Lo, let King help you!” Parker yells from the driver’s window.

“I’ve got it!” I yell back, my focus remaining on the stairs with determination.

King stops a few steps short from me, his chin twists, and the look of indecision mars his brows before he takes a step back, closer to the railing. He keeps pace with me, his hands precariously close to reaching out to me, though he never does.

I don’t object when he opens the door, though my pride wants to, regardless of how inconsequential it seems. Before I get in, I turn to ensure Allie and Charleigh are still with us and go through a brief introduction before lifting myself into the car and watching King take my crutches around back to the trunk.

The girls are both restless, their smiles wide. I can tell they’re excited to be riding with Parker and King, and while I hadn’t been able to see their expressions when they arrived, I continuously notice them both looking from him and me and then to each other. It’s worse than high school.

“This is crazy!” Allie says with a happy sigh. Her eyes are dancing over every exposed chest and bicep painted in tattoos. “I’m in heaven.”

Parker laughs loudly only a few inches from her shoulder, sending her hand to her chest in surprise, leading his eyes to crinkle with an even deeper, heartier laugh. He leads us through crowds and teams that are gathered, discussing strategies and triple-checking everything with the bikes. I’m thankful we’re inside because I can’t imagine navigating through the Oregon mud, but even indoors is proving to be difficult with the large number of people.

I’m trying to focus on watching the event. Parts of my mind are even mystified, making my jaw drop and my eyes grow wide, though most of my thoughts are preoccupied with trying to understand King, and working to recall every minute detail of last night. Did I imagine the way lust danced in his eyes when he told me he was tempted to do something that would make me want to slap him? He did say that … right? Between my painkillers and his obvious drinking, maybe neither one of us can clearly recall what transpired last night. I thought we did when he arrived and was so valiantly ready to assist me with getting into the car, but now he’s several seats and people away from me, and his attention hasn’t veered from the stadium once. I know, because I’ve been staring at him so hard everyone between us has looked over at me at least a few times.

A throat clears from behind me, getting louder as they lean in close. “Take it easy. This is his passion. King belongs out there. He isn’t ignoring you; he’s just lost in his other world right now.” I look back at Summer and she gives me a small smile, her lips pressed together with both apology and comfort, and I’m pretty sure it isn’t all for King ignoring me.

I try to hide the vast relief her words impart on me, but her growing grin confirms it’s apparent. This crush that I’ve had on King since a night that was laden with flirting, revelations of each other, and eventually a shared intimacy that I haven’t been able to shake—or willing to move past—has torn off every cover I’ve tried to bury it under, revealing my feelings have been much larger than a mere crush for months, maybe since that very night if that’s possible.

Her assurance grants me the ability to see the athletes more closely. I watch and listen as tricks and maneuvers are completed that stun me into silence. I am lost as I watch the joy and love for their craft pass over each of their faces, and absorb each expression as they finish. Though each is different, some filled with regret, others with pride, and a few with disappointment, I recognize the same fuel of energy and passion. Some have performed several times now in different events, allowing me to recognize their faces and expressions to where I know I’ll be drawing them for days to come.