Chapter 31
Ijumped off the bench the second Zach connected with the pitch, the ball soaring through the air as his pure strength sent the ball into orbit. He rounded the bases in a steady jog, his muscles pumping with each step.
“Thanks,” he said as he tossed his batting gloves into his helmet.
The sun was out today and had been for the last two weeks; the late winter weather was long gone. The end of high school was drawing near, and the looming deadline of graduation forced away most of my thoughts of Dad, and I barely realized I hadn’t seen or heard from him since the ice cream shop.
If I hadn’t received the offer from Central Missouri and my acceptance letter (with financial aid covering everything the scholarship didn’t!), maybe the stress of the season would have felt different.
Maybe I would have thought about drinking again.
Maybe I would have fought with Zach more.
But that one thing—knowing I could go to school and earn a future whether or not my shoulder blew out—was enough.
For the first time in years, I could relax—at least in terms of college.
We made the third out of the inning, and I jogged out to the mound, my mind mostly free and clear. I had hit 90 mph during a practice a week ago and hadn’t felt pain in my arm in nearly a year. My brain had finally caught up to my body, just like Nate had promised it would.
I looked in at Gavin behind the plate, and his catcher’s gear squeezed him tight.
He’d grown another two inches. The doctor told him he was up to 6’3” as a sophomore, and he was pushing right up against two hundred pounds.
If I weren’t living with him, I wouldn’t have recognized him.
And he’d started matching his clothes a little more now that Maissie was at the house four nights a week, which may have been an even bigger shock.
I reared back and fired, the ball smacking him right in the glove.
Easy game, baseball was.
The game ended by the mercy rule after four innings, and the vibes on the bus were perfect. I leaned back and watched the team, trying to stay in the moment, trying not to drift.
Jake wobbled to the back of the bus but managed to make it to the last row, where I had previously been sitting alone. Zach was on the other side of the aisle, his back on the seat, scrolling his phone and not paying attention.
“Dude,” Jake said when he reached me. “I’ve got something for you.”
I rolled my eyes, resigned to the fact that I was officially head babysitter to both Jake and Gavin, unable to say no to them or stop them from racing to me with every piece of news in their lives.
“What’s up, man?” I said, putting my phone down.
“I’m dating someone!” he said, tossing his bag next to mine on the floor.
“Awesome,” I said, leaning back. His grin was so big it looked ready to split his face in half. It was the same look he’d worn after his second hit today.
“Jesse Goodman,” he said, answering the unasked question, his fingers twisting the hem of his jersey.
I tried to place a face to the name but really didn’t know any of the sophomores other than Jake and Gavin.
“We have math class together. We’re like peanut butter and jelly, or like Pujols and Yadi, or like bacon and pancakes. Just a perfect match.”
“That’s not even a combo, dude, that’s just breakfast,” I muttered.
“So, what? It’s the perfect breakfast. Like me and Jesse.”
“Okay, I get it. How’d you meet?”
“I told you, math class. We’re going on our first date next week. I’d invite you to double date, but you’re not dating anyone, so maybe I’ll ask Gavin and Maissie. Yeah, that’s a good idea, Easton, thanks.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t say anything, dude.”
“That’s fine; I got there anyway from you just listening. But I’m thinking pizza first. Ice cream after. Wait, is ice cream a before-the-movies thing, or is that a post-movie thing? Like, is it weird to be holding popcorn after ice cream?”
“Jake,” I cut in, worried he’d run out of oxygen if he kept talking, “you got your yes. Don’t spill the food, and you’ll be fine.” I shook my head again before looking around and making sure no one else was in earshot. “So, did you tell Gavin you have a boyfriend?”
“What? No,” Jake said, a look of terror on his face. “Jesse’s a girl. I told you I liked girls, too, and she likes me. So, it’s cool.”
I pulled my foot out of my mouth and said, “Oh, sorry, bro, just assumed. My bad.”
“It’s good. But, Easton, listen.”
“Yeah?”
“Like–okay, this will sound dumb. But you’ve helped coach me and stuff.
" He paused and looked up at our teammates smacking each other’s hats before starting again.
“You're like… my friend. Or a mentor. Or something. But I hope when you go to college, we’re still friends.” Jake looked away from me, his eyes nowhere near mine.
Had I actually made an impact on him? I hadn’t tried to. He’d sort of showed up in my life one day and never left, the two of us circling Gavin and the Quinns.
“Dude,” I said, “always. We’re absolutely friends. I’m leaving high school, not your life.”
Gavin decided it was the perfect time to join us and forced Zach to sit up so he could take a seat. Jake turned to him and started asking what his plans were for Friday night.
I pulled my phone back out, resigned to think over how yet another person in my little cohort was dating, and I was alone. It was my fault, sure. But did I care anymore? A month from now, the start of my life would end, and a new life would begin. When I went to college, maybe I would change.
It was a big reason I wasn’t going to prom, either.
Three different girls had hinted at wanting me to ask them, but why bother?
I’d be forced to dance with someone I didn’t like and then expected to go to the after-party, where I’d be asked to drink alcohol, which I didn’t want to do.
Not with the season still going on and with my promise to Coach to bring him the state title I’d failed to get him two years ago.
Anyway, I’d rather spend the night watching baseball with Gavin, who was too young to go to prom. Maybe we could invite Jake over, too. Yeah, I’d like that.
My mind drifted as we drove back to school.
The season had settled into something I could almost call routine—bus rides, box scores, and the same drive back to the Quinns' I could've made with my eyes shut.
I let myself enjoy it. But under all of it I was counting days, and not toward graduation.
Three weeks until Tanner came home for summer.