Chapter 12 #2
“You’re popular today,” Colby says, stepping up from her seat, hands tucked into the front of her hoodie, hair blowing across her face from the breeze. The golden hour sun kisses her lips and traces her profile as if she were sent from heaven.
“They only like me because I caught a ball,” I say, playing it off and doing my best to sound modest.
“I mean, that’s why I like you,” she teases.
I laugh and tuck my chin in, the sudden warmth creeping up my neck making my pulse kick into overdrive.
“I figured. I mean, what else is there to like?” I glance up at her. She bites her bottom lip, and my eyes zero in on the soft pink skin held hostage by her sharp incisor.
“I was kidding, Jayden. There’s plenty to like.”
My fingers tangle with hers.
“Yeah?” My head falls to the side a smidge. Her eyes crinkle along with her nose as she breaks our locked gaze for a beat, looking out to the field before coming back to me.
“Yeah. There’s a lot to like. A lot . . .
I like.” She inhales, and my gaze drops to her chest, waiting for her to exhale.
She doesn’t, though. At least, not as long as I look.
And when my eyes scan their way back up the curve of her neck, to her chin, then her lips as they part, I know my time has come.
“Colby, I . . .” I move my hand to the side of her face, my thumb stroking the roundness of her cheek. I sweep the strands of hair blowing across her face away with my other hand, then cup her face gently as I step forward the last few inches.
“Jayden,” she says my name, her mouth curving into a bashful smile that forces an equally coy one onto my mouth.
My eyes focus on hers as I draw her my lips closer to hers, and when her lashes flutter, I close my eyes and let my mouth fall against hers.
Her lips are so sweet, so soft and plump, and I crave more of her the moment we connect.
My hand slides into her hair, caressing the back of her head as I find a way to bring us closer, tilting her chin up to deepen our kiss, and her mouth widens as my tongue meets hers.
I suck in her top lip, holding on to it for long, quiet seconds, wishing I didn’t need air to breathe.
Breathing is an interruption, and I don’t want this moment to end.
The lights on the field dim just as we break apart, and the scurrying feet of the cleaning staff rustle around us.
“I think they’re trying to get out of here,” she utters, her hands clawing their way up the front of my jersey. She grasps fistfuls of my shirt and shakes her hands against my chest, and I pull her into a hug that feels unlike any hug the two of us have ever shared before.
“You promised dinner. Meet you at Pete’s Fish and Chips?” she says. I snag her hand in mine and kiss the inside of her wrist before letting go. I still have to gather my shit from the locker room before the bus pulls out and leaves me here.
“And prom,” I add as I back away.
Colby nods. It was probably a given that we’d go together anyhow. As friends. But now, maybe—maybe—we go as something else. Something more. Something with a future, and with more kissing. And maybe more than kissing.
I snag my gear bag from the dugout and jog toward the outfield exit that leads to the locker rooms. I pull my phone from the side pocket to read the texts from my mom.
She learned how to send images recently, so the first several texts are memes and fireworks, and a lot of hearts.
I hate that she had to miss the game because of the hospital’s staff shortage, but Coach made sure our stream was up and running.
I call her before I reach the locker room, hoping she’s on a break, or at least not so busy that she can’t pick up.
I get her voicemail, though, so I tell her I love her and hope she got a good view of my catch on the video stream.
I hope someone got a good shot of it at least. I want to save that clip for posterity.
What if I never make a catch like that again?
I’m smiling, musing to myself, as I step around the corner of the locker room and smack chest-first into Coach Kessler.
“Oh, shit. Sorry, Coach,” I say, bouncing off of him like a little kid high on sugar.
“Actually . . . do you have a quick second, Jayden? Before we get on the bus.” He steps to the side, to an empty row of lockers, and leans against one. I mirror his poster, resting my gear bag on the bench.
“What’s up?” I ask. The dent between his brows sets off a round of inner-worries, and I wonder if I somehow blew a test in school and wasn’t eligible for the game, or maybe they got the score wrong, and we didn’t actually win. But I quickly shake those thoughts off as absurd.
“I have a request of you. And I’m hoping that, man to man, you will respect my wishes on this. I’m a father first, you know. And what I’m about to say, Jay . . . it has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”
My body starts to tremble with a low, sullen buzz, like a warning system gone awry. I ball my hand into a fist at my side, digging my nails into my palm, bracing myself for his request.
“Okay,” I agree, cautiously.
He nods, his gaze still on the floor as he chews at the inside of his cheek.
“You and Colby . . .”
Fuck. He saw.
My eyes flutter closed as I drop my chin.
“I know you’re young, and maybe it’s nothing. But Colby and I—we’re all each other has. And she’s lost a lot. She lost her mother. And you . . . you lost your dad.”
What he means is my dad killed her mom, driving home drunk from a bender at the bar. Because he was a fucking loser with no self-control.
“Adriel has struggled, and I know you’ve been able to keep your focus.
Your grades are some of the highest on the team.
You’re a leader out here. But what you’ve been through, Jayden.
It has to weigh on you. The way it weighs on your brother.
It might all hit you someday, when you least expect it.
And I just can’t have Colby involved. With .
. . with you. Not because I don’t love you, son, but—”
“Because you think I’m going to turn out like Adriel?
” My tone is defensive, which I’m sure makes me sound angry, ready to fight.
Fuck, maybe I am. My eyes burn with the want to cry.
Rick Kessler is like a dad to me. And he doesn’t think I’m good enough for his daughter. This hurts. It fucking hurts.
“That’s not what I’m saying, Jayden,” he says, stopping his words there because it is what he’s saying.
“Colby is the most important person in my life,” I say, my voice a low whisper. “I would never . . .” I swallow hard, a tear slipping free. I erase it with the side of my fist, then fold my arms tightly across my chest.
“I know you wouldn’t. Not on purpose. You have always been good.
Your heart is good. But Colby has an incredible future.
She’s going to Ole Miss. She wants to coach after college.
And as her father, I want to protect those things for her.
Her goals are precious to me. Her future is precious.
Please try to see it from my perspective.
I just want to make sure she never feels a moment lower than she already has. I just want her to—”
“I understand,” I cut in.
I do. I want those things for her, too. Maybe he’s right, though.
I might have my shit together for now, but when I get to college, play road games around the country, start looking at the draft .
. . who knows how I will handle that pressure.
What if some of the flaws that plague my brother are genetic?
Maybe I can’t will myself to always be good.
Maybe there’s a wild, raging narcissist buried under my wounds.
I’m clearly angry.
I suck my mouth into a tight line and nod. If I utter another word, I’ll regret it.
“I’m still here for you. We’ll work hard over the summer. Send you to Louisiana ready to destroy. How does that sound?”
I nod, or maybe I’m still nodding. I meet his eyes briefly, and notice his outstretched hand.
I take it because I’m destroyed. I shake it because I’m a chicken shit.
I believe him because the evidence is pretty damning.
My brother has already wrecked a fucking luxury car.
Texas is talking about trading him. He’s just too damn good at the game.
But I’m going to be better. I’m going to be so good that no matter what bad decisions I make along the way, the world—Coach Rick Kessler—won’t be able to fault me.
Because I’ll have been the best. And Colby will remember our kiss.
She’ll remember how hard I worked. She’ll fall in love with my work ethic, and one day, she’ll understand why I had to walk away from us. For now.
Not forever.