“You know…we don’t have to practice every day,” Jackson informed me as he drummed the wheel, waiting for me to stick my stuff in the back.
“Why? You getting bored?”
Rolling his eyes, he snorted. “As if. You’re finally getting good.”
“Finally? I seem to recall I knocked you out of play for over a week,” I retorted, shutting the door behind me.
Rolling down the street, he waited at the end of my yard to turn on his slights and taking off. “Still - practicing everyday - twice a day? Bit overkill.”
“We don’t do weekends.”
“So you claim.”
Grinning at him, I leaned back in the passenger’s seat. “Games don’t count.”
“You don’t have...
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