Chapter 32 Fletcher
Fletcher
“Alright man, enough with this sad-guy bullshit. What the hell is going on with you?” Hudson asks as we exit the field and head back inside.
“And spare us the whole ‘I’m fine’ routine,” Easten adds, catching up as he settles himself on my other side. “We aren’t fucking buying it.”
Hudson snorts. “No kidding. Between this and the ‘nothing’s going on with Hollis’ denials, I’d have hoped you would’ve learned by now that you can’t hide shit from us. We know your pretty-boy ass way too well.”
I tug at my hat, flipping it forward and pulling the bill down to cover my eyes as I groan.
“Oh, wait!” Easten bobs his head as though it’s all just clicked. “That’s what this is about? Something bad go down between you and Baby Clemmins? I thought it was a little weird you two weren’t making those creepy ‘fuck me’ eyes from opposite sides of the field today.”
“Right?” Hudson laughs again. “Watching those two is like watching some kind of weird nature documentary,” he adds with a small, disgusted shiver.
“And today, folks,” Easten begins in a horrible Australian accent, “we’re witnessing the rare mating call of a Honky Tonk shortstop as he performs his native dance to attract the team owner’s daughter.”
Hudson doubles over, the two of them howling in obnoxious laughter.
I roll my eyes, but my lip betrays me with a twitch. “Glad my life is providing you with such quality entertainment,” I deadpan as we enter the Honky Tonk clubhouse.
“Hey, man,” Easten says, his tone growing a touch more serious. “We’re only trying to help.”
“And by help, he means relentlessly mocking you until you cave and tell us what the fuck is going on,” Hudson adds as he walks toward his stall and sets down his gear.
“Nothing is going on,” I snap. “Did you dipshits ever stop to think that Hollis and I are just two friends doing our best to stay civil at work?”
“Oh, so is that why you’ve been in such a shit mood?” Hudson presses, either oblivious or just not caring how pissed I’m getting, though right now I’m going with the latter. “She stopped giving you any?”
My fists clench as I close my eyes and blow out a breath. Normally I don’t mind a little teasing. It’s what we all do. But today my patience is about as thin as the maturity level in this locker room.
Hudson holds up his hands. “Hey! Sorry, but it’s like we said earlier, you suck ass at keeping secrets. Everyone knew the second you two began fu—” he starts but stops as he notices the death glare I’m shooting his way.
“Boning,” Easten happily jumps in, clearly not as triggered by my annoyance.
“Exactly,” Hudson agrees. “It’s not like you two were subtle about it.”
I blow out a loud, shaky breath, still doing my best to harness the boiling anger bubbling beneath my skin. I’m not looking to say anything I’ll regret. They are two of my closest friends, after all, even if they’re currently testing just how flexible the definition of friendship really is.
I drop onto the bench in front of my locker and bury my face in my hands.
“Okay, fine. Yes, things were good with Hollis, but she made it pretty fucking clear she’s done with me now, so what the fuck am I supposed to do about it?
” I ask, glancing up, even if I know damn well these two idiots are the last people I should be getting relationship advice from.
“Fuck if I know,” Easten admits. “But I’ve also never really pegged you as a guy who gives up easily.”
“Plus.” Hudson says, taking a seat next to me as he gives my shoulder a light pat. “We’ve seen you two together. I don’t think she’s as over you as you’re making it sound. I saw her today, and she looked just as miserable as you.”
The words aren’t comforting. If anything, they only make me feel worse. I’m the one who pushed her into this mess, and now she’s forced to pay the price as well.
“Fuck,” I mutter into my hands.
“It’s obvious you’re still in love with her, so come on,” Easten scoffs. “Do something about it. You can’t tell me that you’re just going to let her slip away.”
I drag my hands down my face and arch an eyebrow. Love? That’s a pretty serious word to be throwing out there, and one I know for a fact I’ve never said out loud to anyone but my family.
“What?” he asks, looking equally confused. “Come on. We all know you’re in love with her.”
“It’s been pretty fucking obvious,” Hudson agrees, giving my back a final pat before standing. “We’ve seen you around plenty of women, but Mason Fletcher in love? He’s a whole new kind of beast.”
Am I really in love with Hollis? I suppose it would make sense why I’ve felt so fucking miserable since I got that offer and she kicked me out of her apartment.
It would also explain why my chest constantly feels like it’s been cracked wide open, along with the constant, dull ache that seems to follow me around everywhere I go.
I just assumed it was from the stress of figuring out the future of my baseball career, but what if it’s actually all because of her?
“For arguments sake, let’s say you’re right and I am,” I pause, lowering my voice, “in love… there's a lot you guys don’t know. This isn’t just a case of me being able to walk into her office, confess my feelings, and everything going back to normal.
Things are well... complicated,” I explain, as a new fresh wave of guilt washes over me.
These guys are my best friends, and they should’ve been the first ones I told about my offers.
I kept telling myself I’d do it when the time was right, but the full and honest truth is, I was too scared to say it aloud, because when I finally did, everything would come to a head and I’d be forced to make that life-altering choice.
This is one of the biggest decisions I’ll ever make. The last thing I need to do is make a rash and permanent decision over what I hope are only temporary feelings.
“Okay… so,” Easten says, leaning forward as he spins his hand, urging me to explain.
“A few Major League teams have reached out to my agent,” I blurt, the relief instant at finally having it out there.
Both heads snap toward me, eyes wide with gaping grins.
“What? Are you serious?” Hudson asks, bouncing with excitement. “Dude, that’s fucking awesome and so well deserved.”
“Hell yeah it is.” Easten beams, giving my shoulder a congratulatory slap that leaves a soft sting in its wake. "So this means you’re considering it, then?”
I shrug. “I mean, obviously. I’d be an idiot not to.”
“Ohhh,” Hudson nods in understanding. “I get it. You told Hollis and she didn’t want you to go?”
“No,” I say, even if I completely understand why he’d think that.
“Actually, she was the one who encouraged me to look at all the options and choose whatever felt best. The problem is, the only thing that feels right is making a decision that will keep her in my life,” I sigh, pulling off my hat and tossing it to the side.
“Unfortunately, she isn’t interested in moving things forward with me, no matter what decision I make. ”
Hudson lets out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s cold.”
“Look, man,” Easten says, leaning back against the wall.
“I get it. This whole situation fucking sucks, but I think Hollis is right. You’ve worked your ass off to get where you are, and it’s only right you make a decision that’s best for you, and only you.
Who knows, maybe the right choice will be signing with a team, moving to a whole new city, and finding someone even better than Hollis. ”
"There’s nobody better out there for me than Hollis," I say, annoyance pulsing through my veins.
They shoot each other furtive glances. Sure, maybe I sound like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but don’t I deserve to? This is my future we’re talking about here.
“I’m sure it feels that way right now, but the thing is, you’re never going to know until you actually make a decision,” Easten says.
“Exactly,” Hudson adds. “And who knows, maybe you and Hollis are meant to be and the two of you will figure things out and live happily ever after, but that can’t happen until you make the best decision for you and only you.
.. and not one that’s made just to keep her in your life.
Because if that happens, I’m pretty sure you’ll both be stuck wondering what if. ”
He’s right, or at least I assume he has to be, since Hollis said something fairly similar. Too bad it’s not that simple. What if I make the wrong choice not only for me, but for her as well, and cost both of us a possible future together?
“Fletcher, Kane, Wells,” Bruce, our coach, hollers as he pops his head in. “Get your asses out here! We’ve got some excited kids losing their minds over meeting you.”
I close my eyes, and take a much-needed, centering breath before reaching for my hat and sliding it into its usual backward position.
I know I need to make a choice, and I will, but not tonight.
Tonight I’m shoving every last ounce of confusion, sadness, and heartbreak away and locking it up until later. These fans came out here to meet Mason Fletcher, star shortstop of the Houston Honky Tonks, and that’s exactly who they’re going to get.
I might be feeling off, but I’m forcing myself to stay present. These people paid money to be here. The least I can do is show my gratitude by providing them with the show they came here to see.
Most ballparks are all about the game itself with fans rolling in with just enough time before the first pitch to grab a hot dog and find their seats. At the Houston Honky Tonk Ball Stadium, we do things a bit differently.
Our fans are encouraged to show up early for what we call the Grand Slam Jam.
The gates open, music blasts, and the fans are given a chance to walk on the field to mix and mingle with players from both teams. We also offer a wide variety of themed food and merch for people to purchase, as well as fun, interactive activities for the entire family.
I spot a kid wearing a number eight on his Honky Tonk jersey and lightly toss a baseball in his direction.
Catching it in his glove, he runs toward me. “Oh my gosh! You’re Fletcher!” he squeals, jumping to meet my offered high five. “Can you please sign my jersey?”
“Of course. What’s your name?” I ask, grabbing the offered black Sharpie.
“I’m Blake.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Blake,” I say, wearing a smile just as big as the one on his small face. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”
I twirl my finger, and he obediently spins around. I crouch to his level, and my grin only widens. It will never not feel surreal to see my last name plastered on a jersey that someone has willingly chosen to wear.
“Oh yeah. This is the coolest thing ever. I’ve seen all your videos and watched every single game online with my dad,” he proudly announces as I scribble my signature beneath my last name.
“All of them? Wow. That’s so cool. Thank you so much for being such a big fan,” I say, giving his shoulder a pat before rising back up. “Do you play baseball?”
“Of course I do,” he happily beams as he spins around to face me, and I give back the black marker. “You’re actually my all-time favorite player. And I told my mom that when I grow up, I’m going to be just like you, and I’m going to be the shortstop for the Houston Honky Tonks.”
This isn’t the first time I’ve been told this. I’ve heard it from the mouths of many young fans, but this time it hits differently.
Growing up, I’d watched some of the greats, with my absolute favorite being Derek Jeter of the New York Yankees. Like Blake, I’d also told my parents I was going to be just like him and become a shortstop for the Yankees.
I may not have achieved that, or at least not yet since that door has possibly been opened, but maybe that particular dream is a bit outdated.
Playing with the Honky Tonks, I’ve never been happier. Not only do I have real fans who give me the opportunity to be an actual role model, but I’m now playing baseball without the constant stress of wondering if what I’m doing is enough.
Jared Clemmins and the rest of the coaching staff and organization already believe in me.
It will always be important that I play hard and give it my all, but if we lose, it’s not the end of the world.
There’s always a ‘next game,’ and for them, the only question they ask is whether we’re proud of the show we put on for the fans.
“And I’m sure you will. Just keep practicing, and you’ll be a Honky Tonk in no time,” I assure him. “And hey, how about I teach you a quick trick that can help get you there?”
He eagerly nods as he bounces up and down. “Really? That’d be so cool!”
His excitement is contagious, and for the first time today, I’m no longer worried about my future.
I’d be absolutely crazy to leave this behind. It might not be my original dream, but the one I’ve discovered here is so much better.