Here to Win Rewrite (Walker Boys Sequel)

Chap. 34

I went back to my apartment and took a quick shower. I threw on a pair of jeans and an Olympic t-shirt. I shrugged into my Olympic jacket and grabbed my phone and PDM.

I left Samuel a note in case I wasn’t back before he was, letting him know that I’d gone to visit my family, namely Zoe.

I grabbed an apple before heading back outside.

People were milling around as I went back outside. It was a decent time to be awake, and I’m sure people had the same feelings I had. We were here, in the Olympic Village, for the 2012 Olympics. It was hard to wrap your head around.

I pulled up the name of the hotel my mom had sent me and Googled the address. I left the village and called a taxi service. I was picked up within ten minutes.

I gave the driver the address, and he stared at my Olympic jacket before vigorously nodding and speeding off.

“So what’s your event?” he asked.

“Hurdles,” I answered. “Do you keep up with the Olympics?”

“I watched the entire Opening Ceremonies last night. That was crazy what they did with the Queen, don’t you think?”

I nodded. “I couldn’t believe that the Queen of England jumped out of an airplane. We were all cracking up.”

“I’ve seen you before,” he said.

“I’ve been on a few commercials.”

“Have you been on one for Subway?”

I nodded. “I promoted their Avocado I think.”

“Yeah, I saw you in that. That’s so cool.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve never had anyone noteworthy ride in my taxi before. What’s your name?”

“Mason Walker.”

We pulled up to the hotel. “Well I’ll be watching for you.”

I paid him. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you,” he called, as I hurried inside.

“Room number for Emma Walker,” I said, bouncing on my heels.

“Sorry, we can’t give out that information,” the lady behind the desk said, in a bored tone.

I showed her my ID. “I’m Mason Walker, her son. Call her room if you don’t believe me.”

She placed the phone call while I nervously bounced up and down, waiting for my mom to confirm I was her son.

“Room 112,” she said, handing me a room key.

“Thank you.”

I took the stairs, two at a time, and burst into her room.

“Hey honey,” mom said, wrapping her arms around me. She held me for what seemed like hours. “How’re you doing? What’re you doing here?”

I kissed her cheek. “Came to see you guys. What room is Carson in?”

“Room 117.”

“Thanks.”

I hurried down the hall and banged on his door. I knew he wouldn’t be awake yet, so I hit the door as hard as I could.

“What the hell?” Carson demanded, opening the door. His hair was disheveled and he was shirtless and in a pair of pajama pants. “What are you doing?”

“I came to talk to you.”

“At 8:30 in the morning?”

“It’s important.”