He headed straight for the back, where the glass-fronted coolers hummed. Behind the condensation-beaded doors sat the rows of liquid neon. He didn’t want water; he wanted science. He wanted electrolytes.
Leo stepped back out into the heat, the bottle sweating in his hand, feeling like he could run another ten miles—or at least walk the rest of the way home. buy gatorade
The afternoon sun was a physical weight on Leo’s shoulders, turning the suburban asphalt into a shimmering, heat-baked haze. His tongue felt like a piece of dry felt, and his water bottle had been an empty plastic shell since the fourth mile of his run. He headed straight for the back, where the