Chapter 24 #2
Myles grabs his duffel bag out of the back of his car, and he puts his helmet on me. “Are you ready?”
I blow a strand of hair out of my face. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
I cross my arms. “Do you realize how unfair this is? I haven’t swung a bat in years.”
“Come on. You can’t be that bad.”
Oh, but I am. The first pitch he throws has me jumping out of the way and screaming.
He laughs.
“You almost hit me!”
“I did not. That ball was nowhere near you,” he says from the pitcher's mound.
“I almost died!”
He shakes his head. “Let’s try again and this time, maybe try swinging the bat.”
I glare at him before taking my position. “I swear if you hit me—”
“Trust me, I know better than that. I gave you a baseball bat and I don’t have a death wish.”
I twist the bat in my hands and nod. “True.”
“Are you ready?” he calls.
“Be patient.” I try to mirror the stance of the baseball players I’ve seen and hold the bat over my shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready!”
His arm winds back and when he releases the ball, it shoots through the air.
I dig my feet into the dirt, refusing to jump this time, and swing. I’m thrown forward, spinning from the momentum, and the ball passes me. It clashes against the fence behind me, bouncing off before falling to the ground.
Myles jogs over, laughing.
“It’s not funny.”
“You really are that bad,” he says.
I hold the bat up. “Hey.”
He isn’t the least bit threatened by me. He laughs it off. “Let me help you.”
Myles stands in front of me and puts his hands on my shoulders, guiding me into place. “Bend your knees more.”
I listen. “Like this?”
He nods. “Now”—he takes my hands and moves them a little farther up on the bat—“try this.”
His warm hands over mine sends goosebumps up my arms and my stomach flutters.
“Like this?” I ask, playfully hitting his shoulder with the bat.
He laughs. “You’re starting to get it.” Then he jogs back to the pitcher’s mound. “Here we go.”
His leg lifts as he pulls his arm back, and less than a second later the ball is coming toward me. It seems fast, but I know he’s going easy on me. This time I swing and the ball hits the bat, sending it back Myles’s direction. I shriek, dropping the bat. “I hit it!”
I start running.
Myles runs out into the field to grab the ball. When he finds it, he starts sprinting back to me as I pass second base.
I’m running fast. Or at least I thought I was, but in a blink of an eye he’s right behind me, the ball is in his glove, and he taps my shoulder with it. “Out.”
I skid to a stop, panting as I rest on my knees. “I was so close.”
“I think we need to practice some more.”
“I don’t know.” I lie down on the ground. “I think we should take five.”
He stands over me. “Already tired?”
I try to block the sun with my hand as I look up at him. “I’m just trying to be one with the field.”
“Naturally.” He lies down next to me. “I think the field is speaking to me already. What’s it saying to you?”
I swat his arm. “Hush. I need a moment to breathe.”
“It’s been a moment.”
I turn my head to glare at him. “Really?”
“What? It’s clearly been a moment.”
“You’re ridiculous right now.”
He smiles. “I can’t help it. It’s fun.”
“Oh, shut up.” I don’t remember this side of Myles, and I like it even if I shouldn’t. I miss having someone tease me. It makes me feel normal.
He takes his baseball and tosses it into the air.
“You’ve gotten pretty good at pitching,” I say.
His lips pull into the smallest grin. “You think so?”
“You look like a real baseball player now.”
“I’m not even wearing my uniform.”
It’s the way he holds himself when he stands and the confidence written all over his face when he pitches the ball. The determination and focus in his eyes. “I bet your dad would be proud of you.”
He lets out a slow breath. “I don’t know about that.”
I prop myself up on my elbow. “Of course he would be. You’re going to be the next Babe Ruth.”
“Is that the only famous baseball player you know?”
“Well, I know you too.” I’ve seen the passion he has for baseball and know he’s going to go far. It’s his whole life.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Sure, it is.”
“Coach is probably going to bench me after today.”
“What?” My stomach turns. “Why would he do that?”
“Today is our first game of the season, and I’m not there. It’s important because it’ll set the tone for the season. There’ll be college scouts and everything. I didn’t play last season because I got hurt, and I had to fight for a spot on the team this year. I’m disposable.”
“But he can’t do that!”
“Yes, he can.”
My chest burns, and I sit up. “What if you explain to him why you can’t make it?”
He gives me a look. “Tell him I won’t be there because I skipped school?”
“No,” I say. “Obviously not, but there’s got to be something you can do.”
He shrugs. “It’s fine. My phone is dead anyway.”
I lean over him. “It’s not okay. You have to play.”
“I made my choice,” he says, looking at me.
He chose me, and I want to scream. There’s no way I can let him throw away his dream for me.
That isn’t right. This is when the truth solidifies in my mind: he’d never do anything to hurt me.
The version of him I know in the future is not the same boy in front of me.
Myles, the boy who would give up on his dream of playing baseball for me, is not going to hurt Mallory.
It’s a truth I feel all the way down to my bones.
“What time is the game?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Tell me.”
“It's at four thirty.”
That’s around the same time he pushed Mallory off the bridge. There’s no way he can be in two places at once. Having him play baseball is just as good of an alibi as having him here.
“Come on.” I hold my hand out to him. “We can still make it.”