Chapter Twelve
Taylor
“Up and at ‘em, up and at ‘em!”
I groan and roll over, feeling like I’ve only been asleep for a second.
That’s when it all comes rushing back—the party, making out with Justin, running away, and asking Todd to practice with me.
I’ve learned to cherish those moments of ignorance first thing in the morning—something happens and you forget about it when you first wake up—until reality sets back in.
“Come on, Taylor—we’re wasting daylight!”
Chase shakes me and I finally relent, opening my eyes.
“How are you up earlier than I am when you went to bed later?” I ask. Todd and I stayed outside until the party broke up a bit and then found our way to Chase’s room to crash.
“I have my city league game that you agreed to play designated hitter at, remember?”
I wet my lips. “Is Justin going to be there?”
“Yeah, he plays second base.” Chase squints at me. “Why?”
I rub my eyes, sitting up. I’m not usually one to go back on my word, but if possible, I’d like to avoid Justin until I leave on Monday. On the other hand, the quickest way to feel more like myself is to play baseball . . .
“What happened to your face?”
I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”
“You have black around your eyes.”
I get up to look in the mirror, and sure enough, my brother’s right. The mascara Zoe put on me has smudged, making me look like a raccoon. I run into the bathroom and start scrubbing my face, but it only makes things worse.
“How the hell do I get this stuff off?”
He leans against the doorframe. “Shouldn’t you have asked before you put it on?”
I turn to him. “God, Chase, you’re really starting to piss me off.”
“Sorry, it’s just, if you don’t know, how am I supposed to?”
“Fuck it,” I say, moving on to my hair, which doesn’t actually look half bad, but if I’m going to play baseball, I need to tie it back.
I run my fingers through it and then start braiding the left side of my head, but it isn’t long before I realize the layers the stylist cut stick out at odd angles. “Oh, this is just perfect.”
“Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not, thanks to you—I cut my hair and now it doesn’t braid nicely.”
“How is that my fault?”
“You just had to embarrass me in front of your friends!”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Why do you want to impress them anyway?”
We stare at each other for all of a minute before I push past him.
“What am I supposed to wear?” I ask, digging through my bag for a pair of joggers.
“Here,” he replies, throwing one of his Crescent Springs Coyote shirts at me. “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen. Maybe you’ll be more agreeable after breakfast.”
My stomach growls as I finish getting dressed, reminding me that I haven’t eaten much since I arrived nearly twenty-four hours earlier. Once I finish, I peek my head into the kitchen to see who else is there. Thankfully it’s just Chase and Todd, so I join them and pour myself a bowl of cereal.
“Hey, you guys ready yet?”
I choke mid-chew as Justin walks in.
“Taylor just needs to finish eating,” Chase replies for me.
I push my bowl away. “I’m done.”
All three guys eye me, but I ignore them and run out to the car.
They follow behind me a few minutes later and Chase unlocks the door. I scramble into the front seat, not wanting to give Justin a chance to try and sit with me in the back or worse—refuse—to sit with me at all.
“What’s all this?” Justin asks, opening the back door.
I turn and my face flushes. “Oh . . . my new clothes I forgot them in here.”
“I’ll just throw them in the trunk,” Todd says.
Chase pops it so Todd can do just that, and then we set off for the diamond. We’re the last to arrive, but Chase quickly runs through the introductions, and the game is underway.
The first few innings unfold uneventfully, but things start getting interesting in the bottom of the fourth.
Chase gets a lead-off base hit then steals second when the next batter has a 2–2 count.
He singles as well, so there are runners at the corners when the third batter steps up to the plate.
He strikes out, though, so they stay where they are when I enter the batter’s box.
I’m used to hitting clean-up because of my high batting average, so this is really no different.
The stakes are a bit lower since it’s just a city league game, but that doesn’t matter to me.
I approach every at-bat the same: I visualize the outfield as I bring the bat to my shoulder, intending to hit it there every time.
It works—I hit a double, bringing Chase home. That’s the only run we score in the fourth and the other team earns it back in the fifth. Back and forth, the game continues until we pull ahead in the bottom of the eighth thanks to a solo home run I hit.
I pick at my cuticles as the team takes the field for the top of the ninth. That’s one of the reasons I don’t like playing designated hitter—I like to contribute more than just RBIs. The defense holds them off, though, and we win 5–4.
“Good game!” Todd says, meeting me on the field.
I smile, my first real one of the day. “I could go for a burger now.”
Chase slaps me on the back. “I think we can arrange that.”
I avert my gaze when Justin looks at me. “Then let’s go,” I say, intending to lead them to the car.
“Coleman!”
“Yeah?” Chase and I turn at the same time as the opposing pitcher runs up to us.
“I mean her.” He looks at me. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I’m going to try out for the Pioneer Baseball League this summer, so I’m trying to learn and I was wondering how you hit your home run.
The pitch was obviously out of the strike zone, I miscalculated when I threw it.
In all honesty, I thought you would have just walked but . . . you hit it instead.”
I bite my lip, trying to suppress a smile.
“I like balls that are out of the strike zone. It’s been driving my coaches nuts since I was in Little League, but when I’m given a ball that’s just on the outside corner, especially if it’s a little lower, that’s my perfect pitch. If I can get under it, I hit it.”
He nods, obviously mulling it over. “Thanks.”
“Good luck at the tryouts.”
He nods again and we part ways.
“You ever get pissed off you can’t try out for something like that?” Justin asks, falling into step beside me.
I scoff. “Every damn day.”
He laughs and it lingers in the air between us.
I double my speed, my confidence waning the more time passes after the game, but Justin grabs my wrist, holding me back.
“Wait, Taylor—about last night.”
“Look, it’s my fault,” I say. “I had something to prove and I thought you could help me until I came to my senses.”
“It’s not all your fault—I was a bit forward—so I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” I say and then try to make another break for it, but he doesn’t let me go.
“So then we’re cool. You don’t need to avoid me.”
I sigh, stopping. “It’s just that I ran away and it’s embarrassing.”
“And I’m saying you don’t need to be embarrassed.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I gesture over my shoulder to Chase and Todd waiting by the car. “Let’s just go get burgers—I’ll feel better after I eat.”
He chuckles and releases me. “Yeah, all right.”