Chapter One #2
The scene matched the urgency of Courtney’s text.
Courtney sat behind her desk, looking as ragged as Ashton felt and much older than her twenty-seven years, with the phone pressed tightly to her ear.
The third person in the room was the assistant coach, Nancy Inglewood.
Her long, lean frame slouched in the chair.
Her head tilted down as the short strands on top stood at attention.
Ashton closed her eyes and sighed. There was only one reason to call the coaching staff together: player issue.
An angry voice filtered through the phone, and Ashton sat in the vacant chair next to Nancy. She quickly looked over and mouthed What happened? A quick shake of Nancy’s head, a look of dismay, told Ashton it was bad. Very bad.
“Thank you, sir. Don’t worry, we’ll find a solution quick. I promise.” Courtney ended the call, threw her phone on the desk, and released a deep sigh. “Thank you both for getting here so quickly. I apologize for the abruptness, but we need to nip this in the bud.”
“What’s happened?”
“Taylor was arrested for drug possession last night.”
Ashton gasped. “Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The university conducted an inspection at her dorm, and they found a bunch of marijuana and drug paraphernalia in her room.”
Ashton slumped in her chair, her mind racing with this news. Taylor, their junior catcher, was arrested. It made no sense. She had a bright future as a player after graduation and planned to attend graduate school. All of that was gone now. Her life was ruined.
“Has anyone talked to her?”
“I spoke to her briefly on the phone,” Nancy said. “She’s obviously very upset, emotional, and worried about what’s going to happen to her.”
Courtney pointed toward her phone on the desk. “That was the athletic director. She’s off the team, no question, and she will be asked to leave the university.”
Ashton hated that phrase. Asked to leave. That gave the impression the student had a choice when they didn’t.
“I’ll reach out to her later, make sure she’s processing everything,” Ashton supplied. The looks of surprise she got were unnerving. “She may have screwed up, but she is…was a part of this team. She’s going to need help dealing with this.”
Courtney expressed sympathy. “You’re right. We can’t desert her. However, we need a new catcher. And thanks to the transfer portal, that’s not going to be easy.”
“So we’re essentially screwed,” Nancy chimed in.
Ashton wrung her hands, willing her brain to come up with some possible solutions.
“We could always teach one of the other position players.”
“We don’t have time to teach a player a new position,” Nancy argued, “especially one as important as catcher.”
“Do you have another idea?” Ashton fired back. “The season starts in three weeks. We don’t have much of a choice.”
Courtney’s eyes lit up, and she reached for her phone. “There is someone we could ask.”
“Who?”
“How well do you remember Kelly Mitchell?”
Ashton shrugged. “Name doesn’t ring a bell. Should I know it?” Her gaze snapped to Nancy when a loud chuckle bubbled up out of her. “What am I missing?”
“You seriously don’t remember her?” Nancy asked. Ashton shook her head. “Well, you should since she’s the one who gave you the scar above your left eyebrow.”
Ashton’s hand immediately went to the place in question and gasped. “You mean Razor? She’s here?”
Courtney nodded and turned her phone so Ashton could see a picture of the girl she remembered from San Diego State. Now, though, she was definitely a woman.
“Jonesboro is her hometown,” Courtney clarified. “When I was offered this job, I immediately reached out. Tried to get her on my coaching staff.”
“You did?” Nancy asked. There was an underlying edge to her voice, but Ashton didn’t dwell on it. She was still shocked at this new piece of information.
“Are you telling me that Razor Mitchell, one of the best catchers to play the game, is here? In Jonesboro?”
“Technically, she’s in Walnut Ridge, but it’s only a twenty-minute drive. What do you think?”
“I think she’d be perfect,” Ashton exclaimed.
There was a thrill building within her. She felt a rush of heat at the thought of seeing this girl, this woman, after so much time.
What had it been? Five years since Razor vanished from the softball world altogether?
She’d be twenty-five now. Still in decent athletic condition if she kept in shape.
Thoughts swirled in Ashton’s head as the rush of excitement coursed through her veins.
Then she had a sobering thought. “Didn’t she graduate? ”
Courtney shook her head. “She redshirted her freshman year and left after her junior year. So she has one year of eligibility left.”
“She turned down coaching. What makes you think she’ll want to play?” Nancy said, her irritation in full view.
“I thought you’d be happy to have a competent catcher for Summer,” Ashton retorted.
Nancy fidgeted in her seat. “I am. It’s just, it may be more work than teaching a player the position.”
“Which you weren’t too keen on when it was thrown out there,” Courtney said. “Look, it’s a long shot. And obviously we’ll have to verify her eligibility, but if it’s a viable option, we can at least try.”
“I agree,” Ashton said. She looked at Nancy, pleading silently.
“It’s your team, Courtney, and if you want Razor on it”—Nancy threw her hands up in surrender—“then let’s go ask her.”
Courtney slapped her hands on her desk and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair. “Let’s get going.”
“What, now?” Ashton asked.
“We can’t waste any time. We need a catcher.” And she was gone.
Ashton and Nancy quickly followed and caught up with Courtney as she unlocked her car.
Ashton climbed into the back seat and did her best to calm her nerves.
And hide her smile. Her knee bounced as they merged onto Highway 63.
She focused on the passing farmland, silos silhouetted against the painted sky, and one thought circled through her mind.
She was about to be catapulted back into Razor Mitchell’s orbit. Oh, the possibilities.