9. jealousy, jealousy
NINE
JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY
Cade
I think I’ve been losing my mind all week, and I think it’s because I convinced Halle to spend every ounce of her free time with me. Thankfully, I barely had to convince her at all, she was on board the second I asked her to help me in the recording studio. We started Sunday night, and have been in the studio every morning and night since, and now that it’s Thursday, that’s added up to a lot of hours.
I’ll admit my actions are extremely fueled by jealousy right now, wanting her to spend any time that she could be spending with Sean, with me. Sean . Ugh, what a dumb name. No, it’s not a dumb name. He’s actually a decent guy, but he’s not the guy for her. I’m not biased, Abbott thinks so too.
I know that Halle is going to their game today to watch Sean, thanks to my morning chats with Abbott. He told me I should go and try to distract her from Sean. I don’t want Halle to be upset at me for crashing, but Abbott is right, I don’t want to be competing with Sean for Halle’s attention, so I need to go.
I wanted to fully commit to this whole crashing thing. I had every intention to show up outside of the girls’ door when they were leaving, but decided that would maybe annoy Halle right away, and I need this to go in my favor, so I’m driving myself to the field.
Thinking about Halle going to the baseball game to see Sean makes me sick. I feel a knot in my stomach growing tighter and my mouth starts to go dry. I need to get to the field, I need to get there fast . I push my foot on the gas a little harder than I should and watch the speedometer go higher and higher. My knuckles are white and my chest feels heavy, and I realize that I forgot to breathe for a few minutes there. Maybe I should focus on getting there safely instead of fast. I can’t exactly win her over if I can’t get to the game. I let out a deep exhale, release my heavy foot off the pedal, and loosen my grip from the wheel.
I finally make it to the field, and as I approach from the parking lot, I see that I barely missed the top of the first inning, the teams are in the middle of making the switch on field—Hemlock’s first batter is practicing his swing. Most people like watching their home team when they’re batting, but I prefer watching the team play defense in their field positions. It was always my favorite part of the game when I played. Even now I prefer to watch Abbott’s stellar pitching more than his teammates’ mediocre batting. I’m allowed to say that, I live with them.
I don’t mind missing the rest of the inning, so I veer off path and stop at the concessions. Food will be the perfect peace offering in case Halle gets upset that I’m crashing. Which, I really hope won’t be the case. While I wait for my order to be ready, I grab handfuls of each of the condiment packets and shove them in the deep pockets of my denim jacket. I know exactly where they like to sit in the bleachers from the few times we all went to games together last season, so it isn’t hard to find them.
I sneak up next to Halle and Mel, holding up the hot dogs I have for all of us. “Is there room for me?” I ask after I’ve already started climbing into their row.
“Always!” Mel acts like she had no idea I was coming. She scoots away from Halle so I can plop myself between the two of them.
“Didn’t think you’d take a day off from practicing this close to a show,” Halle remarks.
“Made a deal with the roommates. I come to any game this week, then they will come to the show this weekend and host an after party at The Pitch. My vocal cords are pretty happy for the break, too.”
I leave out the fact that I went to their game yesterday afternoon while she was at work.
“Cade Walsh cutting deals? I didn’t think you were that desperate for fans!”
“Parties, Halle. Desperate for parties, not fans. You of all people should know I’m not a sell-out.”
“People change!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bump her knee with mine.
“I don’t know!” Halle can barely get the words out through her laughter. “I guess, for example, look at the field.” She points in front of us. “That could’ve been you.”
The gods of comedic timing must be on my side, because as soon as the words leave her mouth, the batter on the plate strikes out.
I don’t regret choosing music over baseball, but I would be lying if I said I don’t miss it at all. Halle’s comment catches me off guard and I can’t help but imagine myself out there. The rush of the pitch coming at me at seventy-five miles an hour, swinging, and perfectly connecting with the ball to send it all the way into the outfield for a run. Performing on stage is the closest thing, but still entirely different. I don’t get the same wind in my hair, the same applause and congratulations from the people around me. I do miss it, sometimes more than I ever thought I would, but if I could go back in time and change things, I wouldn’t. I know that making music and being a part of Tryhard is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
“Well in that case, I think I’d always pick being a sell-out over being a strike-out.” It feels amazing to get the last word.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” she mumbles.
Jaw dropped, I turn my body slightly to face her. Full of pride and giggling, Halle waits for our eyes to connect and then winks. Winks? At me? That’s my move.
I accept the loss and hand her hot dog over to her as the teams change places. We don’t say much else for the start of the inning because we are paying close attention to Abbott’s pitching. We groan when he lets up a hit, and she grabs onto my arm as we’re both on high alert, watching the ball.
The ball is flying directly toward the first baseman, it should be an easy catch, except I can tell his attention is not on the ball. His head is turned in the direction of the stands in front of him, almost like he’s staring right at me. I realize he is staring right at me, and it’s not just any player, it’s Sean. The ball hitting the ground twenty feet behind him and the loud reaction of the fans snaps him back into the game, you can see the realization that he messed up in the deep frown on his face when the runner takes the base.
“I would’ve caught that,” I blurt out, not meaning to make a bad comment about Sean, but speaking from experience of being a pretty dang good first baseman my whole life.
Halle gives me a shove on the shoulder, but I can tell how much she’s trying not to laugh because she knows it’s true. Luckily, Abbott pulls it together and strikes out the next three guys, ending the inning before the other team can score a run.
“I gotta go, uh, get some photo content for the team in their dugout,” Mel says. It comes out like she’s not entirely sure that’s what she’s doing. She’s definitely making up an excuse to leave me and Halle alone. I’ll have to thank her for that later.
We talk through the next three innings, not paying any attention to the game, not even when Sean is batting, and we talk about everything but sports instead. The topic of the third inning was Tryhard merch ideas, to no surprise. By the time we reached the fourth inning, the merch conversation fully developed from ideas to Halle making me practice my signature, drawing in her notes app—something about it being good to have “on file” for later. She could be planning major identity theft, and if she was, I wouldn’t care—the extra time we’re spending together is worth it.
By inning five we’re talking about a million different “what ifs” about touring. The cities we hope to go to, what we would do on off days, and what Halle would need to do to not lose her sanity on the road with us boys. We start watching the game again in the sixth inning, and then go right back to talking because we were having more fun that way.
During the seventh inning stretch, they announce that the Hemlock Rhodies will be swapping out pitchers for the remainder of the game, since Abbott pitched seven killer innings and deserves to rest. He practically set them up for a seamless win, after all. Side note, why did they name the university after the state tree but the mascot is the flower? A flower is not intimidating. And we’re in Seattle, so we have the whole Puget Sound as an option. An orca could be cool. Or even a big crab or something, but no, they went with a rhododendron.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I blurt out, mid- Take Me Out to the Ballgame .
“What do you have in mind?” She lights up, eager to hear what I’m going to suggest.
“Dick’s?” I propose. “We could get shakes, sundaes, root beer floats, heck, I know we just had hot dogs but we could get burgers and fries too.” You’d think I worked at the legendary drive-in burger joint from the way I’m selling the menu to her.
“That sounds amazing!” She starts putting her phone in her purse. “Wait—” She grabs my arm, stopping me abruptly from walking out of our bleacher row. “I’m the worst. I completely forgot, I’m supposed to do Varsity shakes after with Sean and some of the other guys and their girlfriends.” She pauses for a moment. “Cade, I’m really sor?—”
“Don’t apologize, it’s fine,” I cut her off. “Is that what you are now? A baseball girlfriend?” I grumble. I know I shouldn’t keep fueling the fire, but it feels like my only defense right now. I hate this about myself. I’ve been like this my whole life, and I don’t know how to not get abrasive whenever my ego takes a bruise.
“It’s not like that.” She bites her lip.
“So you don’t have your eyes on a first baseman?” I serve this remark more playful than the last, trying to lighten the mood up again.
“What are you, jealous?” she teases right back.
“Never,” I lie, sucking in a deep breath and shoving my hands in my jacket pockets.
I accept that she’s managed to win yet another round of banter with me today, and plop myself right back to sitting on the bleachers since we won’t be heading out early. I can’t help but imagine following them to Varsity after the game. I do want a sweet treat after all. I don’t think that would go over well with Halle, though. The last thing I need is to be on Halle’s bad side.
The game ends and I’m tethered to Halle, never more than just a few steps from her side. It takes everything in me to not take her hand in mine, to lead us through the crowded concourse. Hemlock State is known for their baseball program—every game is close to, if not totally, sold-out. We walk through the labyrinth of people, following Mel to the players only parking lot. Finally, there’s space to breathe.
Not for the first time tonight, I look at Halle. She curled her hair again, her trademark hairstyle lately, with the addition of a braid, giving her a half-up-half-down look. The cool wind blows her hair around in a photoshoot kind of way and I wish Mel could read my mind and take some photos of Halle right now. The stadium lights illuminate the parking lot, shining on her perfectly. She’s sporting her usual smile, her eyes sparkling like emeralds, and I can’t help but wonder if her lips still taste like vanilla.
Abbott runs up to us, first going to Mel and wrapping her in a sweaty hug. Hushed words are exchanged between the two of them before they kiss and pull apart. My heart twinges and I can’t help but feel a small pang of jealousy. I want what they have, but the only girl I want it with is currently waiting for a different guy to walk out and take her out for a post game treat.
The guys walk over and make note of me coming to two games this week, which Halle raises a brow at. I only offer a shrug to her and move on from it. We congratulate them and pretend we saw all the wild moments in the game they are raving about.
Halle is caught up talking with Abbott, I notice Sean beeline for his car and leave. He doesn’t stop to say bye to Halle? Did he forget that he’s supposed to take her to Varsity with everyone else? Did the guys un-invite him for his missed catch? Questions swirl around in my head, unbeknownst to the whole group who keeps chatting.
Halle’s barely paying attention to her conversation, her head on a swivel looking out for Sean to come find her. Despite not wanting her to go out with him, my heart breaks for her. Not like this , I think. I don’t want whatever it is between them to end because he’s not a decent enough human being to talk to her. My blood starts to boil and I feel anger begin to fill the fracture in my heart.
I take a deep breath to calm myself before I gently grasp her wrist to catch her attention, and then lean in close so I can tell her without the whole group hearing me. “I think he left already. I’m sorry, Hal,” I whisper.
She nods, and then asks me to take her home.
The drive is pretty silent, but I don’t mind. It’s not a long drive home, and tonight the stars are out in full effect. We’re approaching the corner store close to our house and Halle sits up a little bit and asks if we can stop in.
“I’m just craving a sweet treat.”
“Hal, it’s like you’re reading my mind. Plus, a sweet treat is always a good idea.” I look over at her in reassurance and I think she’s starting to feel a little better after being ditched tonight. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that someone would choose to not hang out with Halle, but I guess I’m the beneficiary of Sean doing the unthinkable.
I pull over into the parking lot and we head inside, straight to the freezers in the back. We both love ice cream bars, just another thing we have in common. I go for the cookies and cream and she finds herself the strawberry shortcake. Both solid choices.
We go up to the counter and, being the gentleman that I am, I pay. We get back in the car and head back home.
“Mmm, this was definitely the right choice. Thanks for stopping,” she says in between bites.
“My pleasure, Valentine.” I freeze, afraid that I might’ve said the wrong thing after she was just ditched by another guy.
I feel the burn of her stare and brace myself as I turn to look at her and she’s smiling. Not a full-on, toothy grin, but the kind of smile that melts the iciest of hearts. The kind of smile that grants world peace. The kind of smile that gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, she could have feelings for me too.
I return the gesture and turn back to face the road and let the smile sized hope take up residence in my chest.