The Games We Play

Chapter One

Taylor

“You’re going to be late.”

I open my eyes to see my best friend and roommate, Todd, slurp cereal off a spoon.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

“You’re lucky I don’t murder you in your sleep,” I say, covering my head with my pillow.

“I wouldn’t be able to give you coffee if you did.”

Lifting the pillow, I see the unmistakable green straw. “I suppose you have your merits.”

He chuckles, taking another spoonful. “I take it you got in late last night?”

I nod, reaching for my cold brew. “Emma and I got into it right before I left. I swear she was barely there all break, and when she was, she wasn’t sober.”

“You need to cut the cord.” Crunch. Crunch. “If your sister can’t take care of herself at eighteen, then she’s a lost cause.”

“I don’t know . . . maybe if I was there more often . . .”

“You go home every chance you get.”

“Yeah, and maybe I should just move back to make sure she finishes high school.”

He folds his lips into his mouth, giving me the impression he disagrees but knows me well enough to stay silent.

My eyes flick to my phone to check the time. “I better get ready.”

“You want to meet at the batting cages later?” he asks, his eyebrows knitting. “Blow off some steam.”

“Yeah.” My lips twitch into a smile. “Sounds good.”

The first day back to classes after Christmas break is a blur. You’d think after three and a half years at Midwestern State University, I’d have it down to a science, but I already feel the pressure of upcoming deadlines.

Not to mention what happens at the end of this semester—graduation. How can I be ready for the real world when I’m barely ready for finals?

By the time classes are over, I’m beyond ready to meet Todd. I drive the short distance to Columbus singing along to the radio, the tension in my shoulders easing the closer I get.

“Hey, Coleman!” Adam greets me from his spot behind the desk. “Bergman’s in cage three waiting for you.”

“Is that breaking ball ready for Opening Day?” I ask as I walk by.

He rakes his fingers through his blond hair. “Nearly.”

“Shoot me a text if you want to practice,” I call over my shoulder, heading for the cage like a heat-seeking missile.

Yanking the door open, I drop my bag in the corner and grab a bat.

“Are we feeling hard and fast, or slow and steady?”

Todd pulls his MSU Mustangs basketball hoodie over his head, revealing his V-lines, and my stomach flips. He hasn’t changed much in the fourteen years since we met—still tall, peaking at six foot nine—but he’s filled out now, no longer lanky or awkward.

“Bat now, talk later,” I reply, pulling my gaze away.

He programs the pitching machine to my preferred speed and then there’s nothing but the sound of ball hitting bat, creating that rhythm.

Whoosh. Whack. My mother.

Whoosh. Whack. My sister.

Whoosh. Whack. My dreams.

“What am I going to do when I can’t play baseball anymore?”

I flirt with the line between venting and holding things in until they break me a lot. Todd knows this and never pressures me into talking but once a bat is in my hands I find myself letting loose—it’s like my version of a therapist’s couch.

It started when I was five. I never wanted to be home without my older brother, Chase, afraid I’d be stuck alone in my room listening to the bickering that came with both my parents being home at the same time.

One of the places I would go was the local park, which housed a baseball diamond, and when Chase joined the Little League team, I tagged along to all his practices.

Since I was always there the coach let me join even though I was two years younger and a girl.

As it turned out, it didn’t matter—I had a natural ability that every boy on the team envied.

“We can always come here—or find batting cages wherever we end up,” Todd says, yanking me from my memories.

“Yeah, and what happens when you’re drafted and become a pro basketball player?”

“Even if I do, I’m not just going to abandon you—we can text and FaceTime.”

“You don’t know that!” I step out of the batter’s box and the next ball flies by. “If we didn’t live together I wouldn’t see you at all during basketball season.”

He runs to turn off the machine. “Then come with me wherever I go!”

“Right, and be your personal live-in groupie.” I sigh. “Plus who will take care of Emma?”

“You can’t take care of her forever.” He looks at me pointedly. “At some point, you’re going to need to take care of yourself.”

I shake my head, not wanting to continue the conversation. He’s an only child, so he doesn’t understand the loyalty siblings have to one another. But even if he did, he has two great parents who would never expect him to take care of a younger sibling like I have to.

I’m about to ask how basketball practice went to change the subject when my phone starts ringing. I drop my bat and grab it from my bag to see it’s my brother calling me.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I answer, my pulse evening out. Where Todd can’t understand Chase always does. He knows what I’m going through since he had to deal with it himself before he left for college.

He laughs heartily. “Oh, you know, the same old, same old.”

I roll my eyes. “What I mean is, to what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?” We text one another throughout the week as a way of keeping in contact despite our busy schedules, but phone calls are usually reserved for special occasions when we both make time for it.

“Well . . .”

“Out with it, Chase—you know I can’t take the suspense.”

“I was just thinking you could come for a visit before baseball season starts.”

“Seriously? When?”

“Yeah, I was thinking for the Super Bowl. Todd can even come too if he’s not too busy.”

“That sounds amazing!”

“Cool, so when do you think you’ll get an answer from Todd?”

“Oh, just hold on a second.” I turn to Todd. “Any chance you’d want to visit Chase with me?”

He grins. “You even have to ask?”

“I take that as a yes?”

“Take it as a hell yes!”

I put the phone back to my ear. “Chase? Yeah, we’re both in!”