Return To Sender (Letters to Nowhere #2)

Chapter 62

~Tj~

Seventeen dollars a day to park Jordan's shitty purple car in the cheapest downtown Philly lot. I've got exactly one hundred and thirty dollars on me to last the whole week. I'm gonna have to ditch the car somewhere on the outskirts and go on foot after today.

The girl at the registration table gives me a big smile when I tell her what I'm here for. "You're the first Power Tumbler to sign in. Name?"

"TJ--I mean Thomas Castro." I clear my throat. "Also, James Alvarez."

"You have two names?" she jokes.

"My coach. He went straight for the bathrooms." I glance behind me at the restroom doors. Hopefully I can pull this off. "Car sick. I told him I'd sign him in."

So yeah, I could get in a lot of trouble for this, but seriously? What the hell else am I supposed to do?

The girl bites her lower lip like she's about to refuse, but when I flash her my best grin, she sticks two clipboards in front of me. I sign for me and my former coach, who never intended to come but is still listed. I was supposed to find someone from camp to coach me, but there isn't anyone. Besides, I don't need anyone.

Registration girl hands me two backpacks full of stuff--food hopefully because I'm away from the free camp meals and down to a hundred thirty dollars--and I get the hell out of there before she can figure out that I came here alone.

The convention center has some fancy coffee shop near the entrance. I get a whiff of the grilled sandwiches or whatever they've got over there and my stomach rumbles. The prices on the menu are crazy high. I leave before I get stupid and waste my money. A couple blocks away, there's a taco truck selling hard-shelled tacos for a buck a piece. I buy two of them and find a table outside to eat and read through the schedule and rules.

The tumbling and trampoline competitions are in the convention center, but Men's and Women's gymnastics is across town in that huge Wells Fargo place. Figures they'd get all the fans. There's an open training session tonight. I'll get to see exactly what I'm up against.

"I guess TJ really can read."

I grind my teeth together and look up from my stack of papers. "Stevie Davis. I didn't picture you as the stand on a street corner type."

She shifts her sunglasses up so I can see her glare. My eyes zoom right in on her short skirt, bare legs, and high heels. This makes her glare turn to a scowl. She snaps her fingers directing me toward her face. Which isn't necessary because I looked at all of her already.

"There's a zoo a few blocks away," she says. "Maybe you'll find your family there. In one of those cages."

I fold my arms across my chest. "What are you doing here, Davis? I thought your finger flicking crew didn't get in until tomorrow?"

At least that's what it says on my schedule. Men's and Women's gymnastics check in tomorrow.

"I'm getting a jump start," she says. "And I have some meetings."

I lift an eyebrow. "Meetings on a street corner. In that skirt."

She groans and shakes her head. "It's like you're trapped in middle school."

Then without fucking asking, she sits right down at my table and picks up Leo's coaching packet. She reads the front of it and then glances around. "Where's your coach?"

"Around here somewhere." I shrug. "I thought you had meetings. Better get going before someone gets the wrong idea about you and that street corner."

She drops her sunglasses back into place and leans onto the table, closer to me. "The more you try to get rid of me, the more curious I am."

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