@fanficfever7: Someone write this slow burn already!!!!!!!
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered. “These people have lost their minds.”
Packy took the phone. “They’re all joking.” He scrolled a bit, then frowned. “Okay, here’s a voice of reason.I don’t get the hype. They look like two dumb jocks.”
“Finally,” I said.
He groaned. “Goddammit. The next one saysTwo idiots in love.”
I got up and moved to the edge of the bed. “Come over here so we can read them together. Then we call Marissa, because this is not cool.”
Over the next few minutes, our voices grew weaker as we read out loud.
@chetsweeniefever: I was today years old when I realized Packo is my new OTP.
@lockerroomlurker37: Put them on a reality show please.
I’d had enough. “Fucking hell. They can’t think we’re…”
Packy put a hand on my shoulder. “No. This is just fan stuff, and I say we don’t worry about it. Social media’s fickle. They’ll go on to something else tomorrow.”
“Should we call Marissa anyway?” I asked.
“I don’t feel like talking to her. If there’s more stuff tomorrow, we’ll call then.”
I nodded, and he made the fatal mistake of yawning. That set me off, and after a minute, I stood and stretched. He did the same.
“I should go,” I said. “We have to be up early to fly to Houston.”
Pack rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Then we’ve got two weeks before the next one.”
“Back to the real world.” I started across the room, and he followed.
“We’ll need to eat before we leave for the airport,” he said. “Seven work?”
“I’ll come by.”
The hallway was bright after the dim lighting of his room, and I was halfway to my door when I looked back. He was still there, leaning against the doorframe, watching.
Our eyes met and held for too long before I turned away. Time for bed.
8/
packy
My phone had been buzzingnonstop since breakfast. I’d ignored it then, and I kept ignoring it through the hotel checkout and all the way to the airport.
Finally, while we waited to go through security, I caved and looked.
RILEY: Congrats, man. You broke the internet. #PackoForever
I stared at the screen.#PackoForever?
The Warriors’ group chat was a nightmare with far too many heart-eye emojis and screenshots of posts on X. There was also a gif of two stick figures making out, and Holky had sent three separate texts, each more unhinged than the last.
“Fuck,” I muttered, shoving the phone back in my pocket.
The terminal was packed, and someone had cranked the AC so high I could see my breath. By the time Nico and I reached our gate, we were both shivering. We dropped into chairs next to each other and huddled close for warmth.
