Prologue #2
“Reynolds!” She throws her arms around me, pulling me down to her for a hug before shoving me back and brushing her curls from her face.
“A keg stand?” I ask, shocked to see her drunk. Scottie is normally as disciplined as I am when it comes to her health, prioritizing her performance on the ball field.
“It’s a party, Grady.” She shoves at my shoulder. “You don’t have to be such an old man all the time.”
My friends laugh at her dig. They know she’s right. I get shit from them on the regular because I don’t partake in the typical teenage activities. I’ve worked too fucking hard to risk my future, though, so they can laugh all they want.
I hold up my cup. “Hey, I’m having a beer, okay?”
She plants her hands on her hips. “Well, until you do a keg stand for longer than I just did, I’m not going to pretend that I’m impressed.”
My friends move toward the other side of the yard where more commotion has started, leaving the two of us alone. “I’m happy to let you keep the keg stand champion title.”
She smiles, a hint of challenge in her voice. “Wuss.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to me, and begin walking to a more secluded area across the yard. There’s a tire swing attached to a huge oak tree, and Scottie slides her legs through the tire while I set my beer on the ground so I can push her.
“You ready for what comes next?” she asks, tilting her head all the way back and gazing at the sky through the leaves as she swings back and forth.
“California?”
“Yeah.”
“As ready as I can be.”
“Have you thrown up yet?”
Laughing, I say, “Nope. And I think if anyone is going to throw up tonight, it’s going to be you.”
She giggles. “You’re probably right.”
“You don’t usually drink, Scottie. Everything okay?”
She twists her head to the side so our eyes can meet as her entire body continues to lie flat while she swings. “Just trying to have a little fun, Reynolds. You should try it sometime. Life doesn’t always have to be serious.”
“I know how to have fun.”
She scoffs. “Okay…”
“You don’t think I can have fun?”
“I think you’re afraid to have fun.” She grows quiet for a moment, and then speaks again. “Promise me we’ll keep in touch.”
My chest aches instantly. “Of course, Scottie.”
“I’m serious. I’ll be cheering you on, Grady. I know you’re going to make it to the major leagues.”
“You’re going to make it too, Scottie.”
“Duh,” she says, making us both laugh.
“It’s going to be tough getting there.”
“Nothing we can’t handle though, right?” She smirks back at me. “I mean, we’re both kinda the shit in our respective sports.”
“Yeah, I think we’re definitely top-tier talent.”
“I can’t wait to watch you on TV,” she says, dragging her feet on the ground as if she wants to slow down.
When she swings back toward me, I grab the tire and pull her to a stop.
Our eyes meet and everything around us grows quiet.
Offering her my hand, I help her out of the tire, and she falls into my chest, her body off-balance from the alcohol and the swing.
I wrap my arm around her back, holding her against me.
“You promise you’ll be watching?”
Her lips spread in a huge smile as her eyes bounce back and forth between mine. “Hell yeah.”
I smile back at that beautiful face and drag a finger down her cheek, making her breath hitch.
For a moment, I wonder if I should kiss her, taste her since I know I’ll probably never get the chance again.
She’s headed to the University of Georgia to play softball, and I’m headed to the opposite side of the country.
It’s only one kiss, one that I might regret not taking while I have this chance.
“Scottie…” I say, my voice nearly cracking from my nerves. Our eyes bounce back and forth between each other, and in that moment, I swear she’s leaning toward me. I can feel the heat of her breath on my lips, the scent of beer on her breath, or maybe that’s mine.
But then her eyes widen, she takes a step back, and turns away from me just in time to throw up her beer all over the grass.
“Shit.” I grab her hair as her body empties all of the alcohol from her system. “It’s okay, Scottie. Get it out.”
She heaves a few more times, and then stands up slowly. I release her hair but continue to rub her back. “Ugh. That was…”
“Disgusting,” I finish for her, turning away from the mess she left on the ground before I add to it with my own.
Laughing, she wipes at her mouth and then glances up at me. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s all right. But I’d just like to point out that clearly it’s not me you need to be worried about throwing up all the time.” I shrug, but she rolls her eyes at me.
“Gloating isn’t a good look on you, Grady,” she says as she heads for the base of the tree, sitting down on the ground and lying back against the trunk.
I join her, motioning for her to lay her head down in my lap, and she does. Even though I know I should be hanging out with my friends and probably getting ready to head home soon, a part of me doesn’t want to leave.
That part of me just wants a few more moments with Scottie.
“I think I need to close my eyes for a few minutes,” she murmurs.
“Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I wish you didn’t have to leave, Grady,” she mumbles as her eyelids flutter closed.
And in that moment, that same part of me from moments ago wishes the same.
***
Three Years Later
Scottie: Oh my god! You did it! You’re going to the minors, Grady!
Me: It’s fucking happening, Scottie! I fucking did it!
Scottie: I’m so proud of you!
Me: Thanks! What about you? I’ve been trying to keep up with your career, but life has just been crazy…
Scottie: Same here, but I’m still working. My coach says I have potential to make it to the USA Women’s National Team, I’ve just got to get through this season.
Me: That’s fucking awesome! You can do it, I know you can.
One Year Later
Me: Scottie! I’m getting called up! One year in the minors and the San Francisco Giants are calling me up!
One Month Later
Me: Scottie? I’m worried about you. I’ve been watching this season and haven’t seen you play. Is everything okay? Text me back.
Life has been insanely busy this past year, but Scottie and I still check in with each other occasionally.
Not hearing from her as soon as I texted her has me worried to the point that I decide to call her.
We never talk on the phone, just a text here and there, but I can tell something’s not right.
The line rings only once before a voice that’s not Scottie’s comes through.
My stomach plummets when I hear it.
“The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.”
And instantly I know that I just lost the only person who ever truly understood me and my dreams.