19. Chapter 16
Jax
Istill have the taste of her on my lips as I walk into the facility.
Horner sent a text to Ozzie and me that he needed us to come by today for a quick meeting.
Oz and I have an extension in our contract we voluntarily added because we are the only two who live in Mango Bay year round.
When my parents downsized into an apartment, it felt silly to buy a house back there to stay empty half the year, so we keep renting here in Mango Bay.
We help Horner with extra duties here and there during the season and a lot during off season.
“Did he say what he needed?” I ask Ozzie as our paths cross in the hallway outside the locker room. Good thing I took an Uber here. He might need me to drive his car home. It might be close, but he looks completely wrecked. Like he hasn’t slept in days.
“Nope.” Is all he says.
We walk side by side into the locker room and then to Horner’s office. I make a mental note to text the guys and plan a night out so he can blow off some steam.
“There’s my boys.” Horner smiles when I open the door, and we both walk in.
“Ok, I need this to be quick. I have some painters coming to paint the locker room during the off season. There will be staff here to get it all cleared out and ready, but I wanted to see if you two could oversee it. I have to give the contractor a contact. Can I pass your information along?”
“Sure,” we both say in unison.
Between the two of us, we can handle it. Neither one of us leaves much during the off season.
“Great.” He stands. “I gotta go down to the field to meet with this Anderson kid.”
I perk up at that name. Anderson Rodgers is the kid from Cirque Du Soleil. The pitcher.
“What’s he doing here?” I asked, surprised he didn’t mention him visiting before.
“I invited him to be a guest player while you’re recovering. Thought it would be a great opportunity for fans to see him play, and for me to see what he’s got.”
He doesn’t even wait for either of us to respond. He walks out of the office, and the click of the door echoes like a drum, shaking my nerves.
“You knew he was coming?” I ask Ozzie.
“Nope.” He’s a man of fewer words than usual.
We stand up and walk out of the office and head back to our apartment. The drive home is quiet. Ozzie doesn’t even have music playing in the car.
“You ok?” I ask.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
When we get inside, we both go to our rooms, resting for the game tomorrow. He’s a mess, but so am I.
I lay in bed, and my mind takes over.
“Coach,” I tried so hard to be confident when I met with my coach after the game. “I know I had a bad game, my grip was off, and I know what I have to do to fix it. I’ll be in the cages tomorrow, if you have time to come by and give me a few pointers."
“I’m proud of your work ethic, kid. I’ll meet you there.
I know it’s hard to be pulled, but it was the perfect chance for me to see what Mitch’s got, you know!
” He gave my shoulder a little squeeze of encouragement before he left, but it didn't end up making any difference as he stuck with Mitch for the rest of the season.
Even though I’m not playing, I still rotate out front to sign autographs and greet fans. I also participate in the parade and dance on stage. To the fans, all is right in Mango Nation.
For me, the axis has tilted, and I feel unsteady trying to catch my breath.
Anderson isn’t out here for any of the pregame things. Horner is saving him for a big reveal during the game—including me handing him the ball for his first pitch. He doesn’t want any of my loyal fans feeling the need to pick sides.
What about me?
Right now, I feel like I need to protect my career. I want him to be good, just not too good.
I push my doubts, my fears of being replaced, and my anxiety surrounding my own return aside and walk to the plate cloaked in a red and black floor length coat and black top hat.
My entire identity is concealed. Just as I make it to the plate, the ending to “The Other Side” from The Greatest Showman blares through the speakers.
The part where Hugh Jackman and Zac Efron’s characters make a deal and work together.
Apparently it’s supposed to be symbolic, or some shit.
When I get to the plate, I take the coat off and the crowd goes wild.
I break into a dance very similar to the one in the movie, as Anderson approaches the plate and we both lip sync the song as we begin to dance in unison—passing the ball back and forth between the two of us until I spin and throw the ball back to him, he winds up the pitch, and throws it across the plate punctuated by the sound of the umpire’s voice.
“Stttttrike!”
The fans go wild, and it feels like a pivotal moment on the field. The energy is high, the entire team is on their feet, Orbit is running around the pitcher’s mound, and I tiptoe back to the dugout.
Anderson is magnetic. The crowd instantly falls in love with him, and he falls in love right back.
He’s the perfect addition to the roster—exactly what we need this upcoming season. Even if he doesn’t play much, his energy in the stands, at the parade, on screen with Sloan, will be magic.
The rest of the game flies by. He’s a little rusty on the field after his first inning. Playing an entire baseball game and layering on dancing, acrobatics, and all the adrenaline that comes with making Mango Ball more than just a baseball game is a steep learning curve.
We didn’t win the game, but it was close, and part of me feels relieved by that, and the other half feels like the world’s worst teammate.
I’m walking to my car after the game when my phone vibrates with a call.
“You looked pretty good out there in that top hat… almost as hot as Hugh Jackman.” Her voice is the calm in my current storm.
“Don’t lie, no one is as hot as Hugh Jackman.”
“I said almost.” She laughs. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah, why?” I try to maintain a steady tone.
“You literally handed the glory over tonight. I know how that feels, even when the world is expecting something else from you. To them it was an iconic moment, but for you, I know it had to sting.”
I know out of everyone in the sports world, she gets it, but I’m not ready to show my broken heart. I want her to know how strong I can be for her. She’s got a lot going on.
“It’s one game. It was good for him to get in front of the crowd, build trust.”
My voice sounds cheery. My stomach… it’s in knots.