The Decision #2
“No, it’s good.” Coach Whitley leaned on the front of her desk. “Your grades are looking much better.”
“Oh yeah?”
Abby’s shoulders loosened. She’d certainly tried harder, and studying meant spending extra time with Kate. Of course, over the last few days, they’d returned to glares and quiet. Only this distance crushed her.
Abby thought they might be nearing friendship, but the latest fight sent them back to square one.
They warmed up together, but Kate didn’t bother with a hello.
In return, when Abby spotted her in the library, she sat at a different table.
She still stole glances at her so often that she didn’t get anything done.
“Seems things might be getting better with the team too?” Coach Whitley asked.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“And away from the field?”
Abby folded her arms across her chest like it might hide the truth. “I’m fine.”
“You know, I lost my dad when I was around your age. If you ever want to talk—”
“Well, I did want to talk to you about Kate.” Abby jumped in both to stop the conversation she didn’t want—no matter how well-intentioned Coach Whitley was, Abby wasn’t exactly welcoming a heart-to-heart—and to dive into the real reason she’d trudged into her office.
Coach Whitley’s brow furrowed. “What about her?”
“I think maybe she should take shortstop.”
“Why’s that?”
Abby hadn’t thought that far ahead. All she knew was that she hated how Kate despised her, more than she hated giving up her spot. “Well, it clearly means a lot to her.”
“And it doesn’t mean a lot to you?”
“I don’t know.”
It certainly did before. Now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was Kate or maybe it was that she still couldn’t feel it. That she kept playing out of habit, and the joy had yet to resurface.
“You know, you have a real opportunity here, Abby. You’re incredibly talented.” Coach Whitley smiled as if trying to rouse the same from Abby. “You could use this season to get back to the next level. Maybe even take a shot at Team USA.”
Abby swiped a softball from Coach Whitley’s desk and turned away. “Trying to get rid of me already?”
“Trying to make sure your potential doesn’t get lost in the grief.”
She squeezed the softball tighter, mirroring the walls of her chest. “What potential? There’s hardly a future for me.
” Abby paused to clarify, more for Coach Whitley than herself.
“A future for me in softball. I mean, you played for the Australian national team and still had to come all the way over here to coach?”
“Played in leagues around the world too. This game doesn’t come easy. You have to chase it sometimes. But that’s part of the beauty, don’t you think?” Coach Whitley sighed when Abby turned back to her. “If you really want Hutchins to play shortstop, you two can work it out on your own, okay?”
“Okay.”
Abby walked straight to the blue house. She grumbled on the uphill trek, one sneaker untied, sweat breaking out beneath her tattered hoodie. She charged for the back door and pulled, scowling when it didn’t budge. “What the fuck?” She pounded the splintered wood. “Hey! It’s me!”
“Jesus Christ.” Mick yanked open the door. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with you? Since when do you lock the door?” Abby asked as she stomped inside.
“Jill and Dill must be on a break,” Mick said. “What’s up your ass?”
“I need to talk to Kate.” Abby tensed when she spotted her over Mick’s shoulder. “Can you give us some privacy?”
“Mm-hmm.” Mick grinned before she slinked away, and Abby rolled her eyes.
“What’s going on?” Kate asked.
“Maybe we can sit?”
Abby followed her to the couch. In the last few months, she’d grown comfortable in the house—its waft of old furniture and Jill’s lavender incense, the bottle-cap-covered coffee table, and softball posters from seasons past. The weak warmth from the groaning heater never failed to thaw her chest. Except now, as she sat on the couch next to Kate.
For as much as she’d grown accustomed to the house, as much time as they spent together, she hadn’t quite grown comfortable with her.
Not with their unending game of two steps forward and one step back.
“Everything okay?” Kate asked.
Abby rubbed the back of her neck, less confident than she had been in Coach Whitley’s office. What seemed reasonable twenty minutes earlier, now seemed potentially condescending.
“I feel bad about how things went down. I’m sorry for taking your position.”
Kate sighed and Abby worried she’d triggered another fight.
She didn’t understand why it happened so often.
While she certainly had a temper, laid-back was Abby’s natural state, and with everyone else Kate exuded calm and control.
Perhaps they simply spent too much time together.
Or maybe it was the tension beneath, the competing and jealousy, coupled with their forced partnership.
Only it wasn’t just a forced partnership.
Somewhere along the way Abby began needing Kate.
Enough that when they drifted, she scrambled to get her back.
“It’s not like we can both play there.” Kate tilted her head in a way that restored Abby’s hope. “And you didn’t take it. You earned it.”
“I know how much you want it though. I wasn’t trying to insult you when I said I could play second base instead. I should’ve probably just moved over there before.”
“Why would you do that?” Kate’s gaze flickered, as if prodding Abby to say something they both already knew.
“I don’t want you to hate me.”
“You care enough about me liking you that you’d give up your position?”
Abby grimaced. “It sounds really lame when you say that.”
“Sorry.” Kate uncrossed her arms. “I’m just surprised. I thought you didn’t like me.”
“I do. A lot.” Abby lowered her volume like it was a middle school secret, though the way her cheeks warmed suggested that wasn’t too far off. “I guess I feel stupid around you. I know I’m another assignment to you and you don’t care—”
Kate’s eyes widened. “Of course I care.” Her bottom lip firmed against her mouth’s falling corners. “I notice, you know? That you’re sad some days. I know you’ve been through a lot.”
Abby’s heart contracted just once. Her throat tightened like it had in Coach Whitley’s office, and at Isla’s condo on Christmas, and on the dock, and any place that someone alluded to her loss.
“I don’t pity you and you’re not stupid.” Kate shook her head, then chuckled. “Granted, any inferiority you feel is a small fraction of what I feel playing against you.”
“You don’t have to play against me. We’re a team.” Abby unconsciously shifted closer. “Play with me. Really, you can play shortstop, and I’ll play second.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Well, I care too. I notice you too.” Abby’s brows drew together. She gulped to steady herself before the rest. “You’re the only reason I’m on the team, Kate. I was drowning. I mean, I almost really drowned that day in the river. And you were the first one to help me.”
Kate’s eyes rippled with something softer. A fragile shimmer that threatened to break. Abby only caught a glimpse of it before Kate cleared her throat and looked away. “You can’t give up shortstop for me,” she said. “I want to earn it.”
“Understood.” Abby smirked.
Kate smiled back. “And I’ll give second base a shot.”
“Good. Let’s turn two then.”
“Let’s turn two.”