19. Chapter 19
Dad didn’t try showing up again to another game.
Maybe he couldn’t figure out our schedule, or maybe Coach Berrios and Mr. Quinn had scared him away; I didn’t care the reason.
Every inning, though, I scanned the crowd before the first pitch to see if he’d come.
More than once, I thought I saw him in the stands—whether a mirage or a memory, I wasn’t sure.
Summer continued like last, except Tanner turned into an actual coach rather than just a field general. What a weird dynamic that was, my kind-of-but-not-really ex now trying to help me with my fielding. It was almost as weird as when he’d been my double-play partner.
Practice had been over for an hour now; the sun was setting behind the pine trees as Zach, Tanner, and I splashed around in the pool, and country music blasted from Zach’s phone on the deck.
“Gavvvvvvviiiiinn,” I yelled as the fifteen-year-old walked onto the porch.
Seemingly overnight, he’d started to grow, as if a beanstalk.
He resembled a beanstalk, too, with how lanky and skinny he’d become, and especially with the grass-colored swim trunks he wore, which now barely covered his thighs.
“Eeeeastonnn,” he said, his voice cracking as he jumped in with us.
The second he hit the water, Tanner and I swam to the edge and got out, ignoring his pleas to stay put.
Sure, we had planned the exit to coincide with him getting home, but it was more so because we needed to talk with his parents. Annoying him was a bonus.
My body shivered as we toweled off; even though it was midsummer, I was never colder than when I exited a pool, water dripping everywhere.
“Mom,” Tanner yelled as we entered the kitchen.
“Jesus, Tanner, I’m right here,” his mom said from beside the sink.
“Language, Mother,” he said, trying to mimic her tone.
She stared at him; I wasn’t sure what was stronger, her glare or the smell of dish detergent filling the room.
“Can Easton and I take Gavin to his showcase this weekend? We don’t have any games,” Tanner said as we sat at the table in the middle of the room. He spoke with more confidence than when he had asked two years ago, no stumble in his voice.
Mr. Quinn walked in as Tanner asked the question. His wife looked over, and a conversation commenced between their eyes.
“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea...” she said, her voice trailing off. She tossed aside the towel she’d been holding, and crumbs spilled onto the floor.
Tanner looked at me with the same confusion I felt. We’d figured this was a cinch; we had taken Gavin out of town two years prior with no issues, and now Tanner was in college.
“Why not?” he said.
“Well,” his mom started, “we’re not sure if we’re fine with you two sharing a hotel room with no supervision.”
The words landed wrong. I gripped the edge of the chair, my fingers pushing into the cushion.
“Why not?” Tanner asked again, his voice rising. His body straightened and his face turned stern as he looked at his mom.
“Well, it’s because,” she started, then glanced at me.
“So, this is because I’m gay?” Tanner said incredulously.
“Yes,” she said, glancing at me a second time. I looked away, not wanting to make eye contact. Did she suspect what we had done together so many times under her roof?
“Mom, I’m nineteen. What are you talking about? And I’ve been dating Cal for a year.”
“Yes, and Easton is still in high school. You aren’t. You’re a coach now. People will talk if they find out the two of you shared a hotel room.”
“Good lord, Mom. Easton’s eighteen and spends every waking moment at this house, and I have an apartment twenty minutes away. Do you think if we wanted to have sex, we’d wait until we were in a hotel with Gavin?”
Memories of the first time I’d gone down on Tanner spiked into my brain. I didn’t think my face could turn a deeper shade of red, the heat in my body at record levels. I sipped from the bottle of water in my hand, wanting to be anywhere but in this room.
“It's not my opinion I'm worried about. Are you comfortable with this, Easton?”
Comfortable with what? Going to a baseball tournament? The line of questioning shook me so much my thoughts twisted; nothing coherent could escape the turbulence.
“Really? Is he comfortable? He had the idea!” Tanner said, standing. “I’m done with this. Please let us know what you decide, but don’t base it off of the fact you twisted the idea into me having a plan to bone Easton. I just want to hang with Gavin before I go back to school.”
What in the world was going on? I scattered after Tanner, the heat still sprinting up my neck, knowing nothing could be more awkward than sitting in a room with those two as they contemplated Tanner “boning” me.
Mrs. Quinn eventually relented, but I wasn’t able to look her in the eyes for days. The sting of her accusation hung everywhere I went in the house; I couldn’t escape the thought that she saw the part of me only Tanner truly knew.
The Perfect Game showcase was a no-holds-barred event, even for a bunch of fifteen-year-olds. Tanner and I sat in the stands the entire day, eating a bag of popcorn between us, our fingers getting sticky from the butter catching onto our sweat.
Radar guns were everywhere, as were scouts scratching notes. One of the guys Gavin had to bat against even hit eighty-eight miles per hour, a speed he’d never seen before.
Gavin walked off the field with the bag for his catcher’s gear dragging on the ground. His fists were clenched around the strap, and his head hung, his hat barely staying on.
“Tough day,” Tanner said when Gavin got to us, no longer mincing words for him.
We walked out of the stadium and to the Durango, and Gavin slammed his bag into the trunk hard enough to rattle the car before sliding into the backseat.
“Tough day?” he said, his voice crackling with anger. “I was overmatched in every at-bat. On every pitch. I couldn’t catch up to a fastball and swung over every breaking ball.” His fists balled in his lap, his face was red, and his chest heaved. “I don’t deserve to be on the field with these guys.”
I looked at Tanner, raising my eyebrows, trying to figure out if he would take the lead with Gavin’s depressed spiral or if it was my turn.
When Tanner didn’t start, I went slowly, deciding the route he needed as I spoke. “Gavin,” I said.
“What?” he snapped, his face turned to the window, hiding his eyes.
“Do you want to be an asshole to me, or do you want to talk?”
“Can I be an asshole for, like, one minute?”
“Sure.”
“Your voice is annoying as hell, and you have the most punchable face I’ve ever seen.”
I snorted as I stared back at him, noting a small smirk creeping onto his face. “Got that out of your system, kid?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you see the size of everybody else on the field today?”
“Not really, I focused on the game.”
“Well, every single player was still a head taller than you. And nearly all of them had at least twenty pounds on you. You turned fifteen, like, a month ago.”
“So fucking what? I need to be better.”
“You’re at a stupid stage where you’re still growing. Most of these guys are as big as they’ll be when they’re adults. Sucks you aren’t. But when you finish, you’re going to be better than Tanner or me.”
“Do you really think so?”
Only sort of. I’d always be better than him. Probably.
“Absolutely. You’ve had the best two coaches possible for the last two years.”
“Who? Berrios and Messina?”
I got a full smirk from Gavin this time, an indication he was done being miserable.
“Asshole,” I said, smiling back at him.
We returned to the hotel right before dark, but Gavin’s body told him it was closer to midnight, and he passed out immediately after eating a Little Caesars pizza.
Tanner nodded toward the door from his bed, and I followed him out, my eyes locked on his hair.
I didn’t think I liked it this long, nearly to his shoulders.
He did it to cover up those ears he hated, but really, was it worth screwing up his perfect hair to cover up a body part most people weren’t going to notice?
“Wanna go for a run? It’s a tradition when we stay in a hotel at this point,” he said as we exited the lobby.
“Are we going to have an existential crisis like we always do?” I asked.
“Probably.” His eyes said he was serious, but his smile said he was toying with me. My ears burned as I tried to decide which facial feature to believe.
“No run. My legs are sore,” I finally said, joining him stride for stride. We walked the streets for the next twenty minutes; the night was still new enough that people walked around us, their conversations coming in and out of focus as Tanner and I talked about nothing and everything.
The moon brightened as we got away from the bustle of downtown and approached—what else—a park. The night air had started to cool, and Tanner had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his head, the strings drawn tight, hiding himself and his thoughts.
“Wanna grab the swings?”
“Let’s not,” I said, remembering the last two times we’d done that, goosebumps rising on my arms. I led him to the seesaw instead and sat.
The coldness of the seat seeped through my shorts and encased my butt.
My entire body shivered harder as Tanner sat on the other side, forcing me to rise into the air.
We rose and fell together for the next couple of minutes in a calming rhythm.
Crickets buzzed nearby, hiding somewhere in the damp grass that surrounded us.
It was impossible to forget what had happened the first time we’d entered a park alone, when I’d told Tanner the story of my mom, leading to our first kiss.
He was the only person I could sit next to in silence without the urge to blurt out words. I was just happy to be around him; he calmed me even more than the seesaw. Was he thinking the same things about me?
“How are you doing?” he asked, his eyes barely visible between the darkness and his hoodie.
It was both obvious and not obvious what he meant. The question wasn’t generic but about my shoulder. And my dead mom. And my no-longer-imprisoned dad. And the fact that I’d never said the words we both knew were true.
“Fine,” I said.
I didn’t need light to see his eyebrows raise, indicating he didn’t believe me. But he wouldn’t push—he never did. He let me figure things out on my own.
I decided to give him a sliver of an answer.
After all this time, he deserved as much truth as I could allow myself to say.
“My dad showing up at the game freaked me out. I figured when I didn’t respond to his letters, he’d realize I was done with him.
But he yelled my name as if everything were... normal."
We teetered a couple more times, the piece of equipment squeaking as if it hadn’t been oiled since the ’90s. I didn’t keep talking, so Tanner took the opening.
“I’m not sure he’s smart enough to figure that one out. You may need to say it to him directly when you’re ready.”
“Not going to happen,” I snapped, meaner than I meant to.
“Well, I’ll be there if you need me to be when you confront him. I wouldn’t mind getting my say in, either.”
“Not anytime soon, brother,” I said.
Time to change the subject. The one topic with Tanner I had avoided for over a year and the one I should’ve had months ago.
“Listen, dude.”
“Yeah?”
“I... I never actually apologized to you.”
His eyes scrunched up. “For what?”
“For that thing I said. At the New Year’s Eve party.”
The word still turned my stomach. Faggot. I’d thrown it at him when I needed someone else to bleed, to cover up who I was. Who I am. And he’d gone and come out anyway, brave enough to do the thing I couldn’t. I’d never actually apologized. Not the way he deserved.
“Oh. Yeah you did, at Gavin’s birthday.”
The words jumped out. Just like that word I’d used. “No. Like that barely counted. What I said... it wasn’t right. And it wasn’t fair to you, at all.”
“Shit happens. You were drunk. We’re good now. Okay?”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
I sucked in a breath. Time to move forward. “How’s Calvin?”
Tanner hesitated. “He’s good. Really good, actually.” He glanced at me, then away, his hood hiding half his face. “I don’t really know how to talk to you about him.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I get it.”
He paused and looked back at me. “He’s good, though, and we’re happy. Last week, the night I told him about this trip, he even joked about getting married someday and having kids we could take on vacation."
“Dude, you can’t even buy beer yet.”
“That’s what I said! He’s wild, though. Already has it all planned out and everything.”
“Happy for you, though," I said, trying to get that image as far out of my mind as possible. My feet clung to the ground a second too long as I stared into the darkness and inhaled slowly.
“But Easton. You’ll get there, just like I did. Whenever you’re ready.”
Ready for what, he didn’t say. But we both knew.