Chapter 17
SELENA
After we finished our burgers, I still had to drive Grayson home. Letty came with us, so we’re dropping her off first.
She’s been talking the whole drive, asking Grayson question after question about baseball. Turns out her grandma isn’t the only fan.
“Tell me again why you haven’t declared for the draft yet?” Letty asks out of nowhere. “And please don’t tell me you’re throwing away all your talent and years of training like Selena!”
“I’m not throwing anything away,” I snort and shake my head.
“You don’t plan to continue playing?” Grayson asks.
“No.”
“Why?”
Why do you care?
“Yeah why, Selena?”
I glare at Letty through the rearview mirror. She knows why. We’ve talked about this many, many times. Mainly because she keeps bringing it up.
Basically, Mamá y Papá don’t want me to. I remember being little, coming home after having a really good game and telling them I was going pro. I’d buy them a house and cars and everything they ever wanted, just like I’d read other athletes doing for their parents.
They were always tired after work, so maybe that’s why they never joined in my childish aspirations and daydreaming. Instead they took turns telling me soccer was only a means to an end.
“Prepárate mija. Estudia para que no seas como yo,” Mamá would tell me.
Study hard so you won’t end up like me.
“Para que tengas un buen trabajo,” Papá would add with a warm smile. “Algo seguro.”
Get a good paying job. A secure one that can’t be taken away so easily.
“Por que si te lastimas...”
Because if you get injured, it’s over.
Hearing it so often, you get the point. You stop sharing your dreams with them and start believing they’re impossible too. They don’t think you can do it and eventually neither do you.
I mean, they weren’t wrong. I knew the stats, memorized them. Less than 1% of high school athletes go pro.
They weren’t trying to crush my dreams, they were trying to paint a realistic picture of my future. I knew what they wanted me to do and I was going to do it. After everything they had done for Sammy and me, I owed them that.
“I have other plans,” I reply and can see Letty shaking her head in the back seat.
“How about you Gray-Gray? You going to disappoint me, too?”
“Seems I will.” Grayson opens his window. “I’ve got other plans, too. They don’t include playing ball after college.”
“What?! Why not?!” Letty cries, jumping up and down in the backseat. “You could go top 10 with the right agent—which I’d be happy to take you on as my client,” she grins.
“You can have clients?” I ask, teasing her.
“Technically not right now, but I am graduating this year,” she reminds me with a snarky smile. “And I am taking my certification class over the summer. Then, I can represent you, Gray-Gray.”
Smiling, I shake my head. I love Letty’s confidence and persistence.
“I bet your dad wants you to play, am I right?” she continues.
“Not quite.” Grayson’s looking out the window. “He detests baseball.”
“What?! Does he know you like it? Or how good you are?” I ask. “Sorry, I—” I don’t know enough about Grayson’s situation to criticize. I focus on the road and keep driving.
I feel bad for him though. I know what it’s like to have parents who think sports are not a suitable career option. While I know both my parents love me unconditionally, they’ve never supported or encouraged my desire to play soccer beyond college.
I guess his dad thinks the same way. Maybe his mom doesn’t.
“How does your mom feel about it?” I ask, my voice so soft, I’m not sure he heard me until I feel his eyes on me. We’re at a red light so I turn to look at him too. “Does she like baseball?”
There’s a half smirk on his face. “She preferred football. Loved Tottenham.”
“She’s a soccer fan?” I ask with a laugh. In my excitement I drive past Letty’s street.
“Okay so she likes sports,” Letty claps. “I can work with that! Tell me your mom wants you to play in the Majors.”
“She passed away two years ago.”
Oh no. I slam on the breaks to stare at him. Luckily the streets are empty and no car was behind us.
“I didn’t know,” I apologize. “If—”
“It’s fine,” he cuts me off. His eyes are focused on the street ahead.
“Shit bro, that sucks.” Letty pats his shoulder. “Sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I add. And I am. How did I not know this? Does Sammy know?
Grayson doesn’t say anything.
“Do you want the talk about it?” I ask, reaching for his hand.
He pulls away before I can touch him. When he shuts his eyes, he leans his head back onto the headrest. “No, thanks.”
“I feel bad now,” Letty mutters.
“Don’t,” he replies, looking at her over his shoulder. “You couldn’t have known.” He offers her a small smile.
Why does she get cute-polite-Grayson and I get the grumpy version? I’m glaring at him until I realize what I’m doing. This is not the time, Selena. I fix my face and continue driving around the block to end up in front of Letty’s apartment building
“We were having a good time until Selena brought up your mom—”
“Dude.”
“—sorry about my friend,” Letty sighs. “She doesn’t get out much.”
“Leticia!”
“I’m kidding, Sel. Seriously though, Gray-Gray, sorry about your mom.”
“I appreciate that,” he nods.
“Now before I deprive you of my presence, if you two are going to fake date, you need to be convincing. That’s all I say. Okay bye! Drive safe!” she smiles and runs out.
I wait until she’s inside her building before driving off. Now that we’re alone, I cannot rein in my thoughts. I have so many questions. At the third red light, once the car is stationary, I turn to face him fully.
“Ask what you’ve been wanting to ask,” he says, looking out the passenger window.
“Anything?”
“Nothing about parents,” he mumbles.
That was going to be my first question. About his mom actually. And then why his dad sucks.
Here goes nothing.
“Is Lila Jane your girlfriend?”
I’m not sure why that’s the first thing I asked about.
“No.”
“Ex?”
“No.”
“But you slept with her?”
He turns to look at me, a frown tugging at his lips. I’m relieved when the light turns green because I don’t have time to hold his gaze.
“Does it matter whether I did or didn’t?” he asks.
I shrug, fighting back the blush I feel rising to my face. “I’m just curious.”
“Why?”
“Because I ended up on your lap, Rhodes. Which is not something I normally do. And because you seem to want to prove something to her and I’m curious why that is. She must be someone important in your life if you temporarily put aside your dislike of me to make obvious your indifference of her.”
He mumbles something about my being “dramatic again”, but I continue, “Besides, it’s because of her that we might be going to a party I’m pretty sure you don’t want to attend.”
“That wasn’t a question,” he states while typing something on his phone.
“Are you not eligible for the MLB draft? I mean, you can also play overseas if you didn’t want to play here.”
He runs a hand down his face. “I am eligible,” he grumbles.
“Then why—”
“I told you, I’m done playing ball after graduation.”
Sammy’s mentioned scouts at the games and that sometimes players are invited to work out with certain Major League teams. I assumed that included Grayson.
We’re at a red light so I turn to look at him again. I expect him to be annoyed, but I’m not prepared for the dejected look in his eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I offer a small smile, but he doesn’t return it. Doesn’t even look at me very long.
“No.”
My phone buzzes as Something in the Way by Nirvana starts to play in his car. I reach for my phone in the center cup holder, but he snatches it from my hand.
“You’re. Driving. My. Car,” he growls.
My phone buzzes again.
“I wasn’t going to text and drive, pretty boy, only check who it is.”
Pretty boy? I need to stop talking. Because I meant to call him smart ass! That’s not even remotely close. Like when you say it’s a dot hay instead of what you meant to say, it’s a hot day.
He snorts, which means he heard me, which means I need to have the ground open up and swallow me whole this instant!
“I can check.”
He’s offering to check my phone? Like a friend would?
“Oh, uh, I...” Now I can’t even form words?!
“Don’t overthink it, Alvarez. You don’t want me in your phone, it’s fine. Not a big deal.”
“That’s not what I was thinking,” I admit. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”
He taps the screen. “It’s Jess,” he says. “That’s your roommate? The tall girl.”
“Yeah, but don’t call her that, she’s sensitive about her height.”
“Is Jess your roommate?” he corrects. It makes me smile.
“Yeah, she’s my roommate, best friend, teammate. She’s like my sister,” I tell him. “I’ll pull over.”
“Not here you won’t!” he barks. And he’s right. There’s nowhere to pull over, just an uneven and jagged stretch of road. They’ve been working on this highway for years and can’t seem to finish it.
“You care more about your car than me?” I tease.
“I’ve known it longer.”
I catch the corner of his mouth twitch.
“Want me to read this?” he offers, but it sounds like it’s the exact opposite of what he wants to do.
Another text comes in.
“It’s Jess again,” he says.
It might be an emergency. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s not like he cares enough to go snooping around my phone. I know he has no interest in getting to know me. Shrugging my shoulders, I give him the code.
Jess
tell me you’re NOT hanging out with that asshole pendejo!
My ears feel hot and I can hear the laughter in his voice as he reads the texts.
Jess
cabrona why you making out with that fuckboy?! are you drunk?? pinche selena you better not be drinking!!! you’re the lightiest lightweight ever!!
call me back! y cuídate!
I hear him typing on my phone.
“What are you writing?”
“That you’re driving.”
Selena
Driving.
“Oh, good idea, thanks.”
“Is there something else I should add?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Never mind, it’s okay. Thank you.”
“Should I tell her ‘the asshole can’t drive since he’s drunk’?” he asks.
I giggle. “Just so you know, I’ve never called you that.”
He grunts in reply. I can’t see his face so I can’t tell if he believes me or not, but whether he does or doesn’t, it’s the truth.
I’m about to ask him to please call Jess, but she texts first.
Jess
no manches selena this better not be like the crazy shit that happens in your books!
“What is she talking about?” he asks.
Oh no.