A Game Like Ours: Suncastle College Book One

by Marissa J. Gramoll

  “Is it remembering if you never forgot?” I swallow. No. I don’t want to give her hope. I don’t want to confuse her. Shit, I just don’t want to hurt her. “I’m crazy about you, Lexie. But I have so many secrets.”

  “More secrets?” She gives me a look that says she is horrified at the prospect. Like maybe what I already told her wasn’t the worst of it.

  I put my hands on her shoulders. “You need someone who doesn’t keep things from you. And clearly, that isn’t me.”

  “It is you, Bobby. You’re the one I wanna be with. Our time apart has proved that more than anythin’. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel this?” She brings her cheek to mine. “I need you.”

  Why does this have to be so hard? I swallow, missing the nearness of her skin, knowing that I am about to go without.

  “I wish I was what you needed.” I push around her and get into my truck because she won’t have to do much to change my mind and make me stay.

  I try not to look back, knowing it will destroy me, but I do anyway.

  She stands, stunned stupid, arms across her chest. Tears running down her face.

  My mind spirals down a dark path, each mile I drive away from her. Every part of me begs to turn the car around. To fix what I broke and to mend the heart I promised not to harm.

  I should go talk to her. She wanted to talk. To give us another chance.

  But I don’t turn around. I keep driving. Down the highway, to the batting cages. The world passes in a frenzy, like it’s mocking me for my pain.

  Batting cages are about to close, but I don’t care. I need these few minutes. Hitting my aggression out from every ball pitched to me, I hit hard, again and again and again until sweat lines my body.

  I did this. I did all of this. It’s my fault. She wanted to fix it. And I left her there crying. She should never cry because of me.

  All I do is hurt people. Disappoint them.

  I hit ball after ball, only stopping to refill the machine.

  I’m so thirsty. My body is weak, my muscles on the verge of collapse. I imagine what Dad would say if he saw me like this. What Mindy would say.

  My aggression boils past any healthy level as I hit ball, after ball, after ball. I need to hear the chink of the bat. Need to watch each ball fly.

  I have so much inside of me ready to explode into a million pieces.

  Why didn’t I let her talk? Why did I wait so long to tell her? Why does it feel so good to hurt myself?

  My thoughts have become a broken record, but I can’t turn them off. I collapse to the ground, slamming my back into the chain link fence.

  “You did this!” I scream at Cody. “You made me feel accepted. You made me feel loved. Then you left me so broken! When you gave me a little bit of hope that I could have you back, you shattered me in pieces. You did this to me! And you didn’t tell her. How could you not tell her?” My voice squeaks with how dry it is, how loud I’m screaming. This scratching burn feels like the worst case of strep throat. “How could you leave me behind like this? I don’t want to live here! Not without you! Not without her!” I throw my hands in the air. “You broke both of us! And I thought we could be together. Me and the only girl I ever cared about. But I fucked that up so bad. I fuckin’ hate you for leavin’ me this mess.” The words flow out of me. So much I need to say. All this time, these words have grown roots in the darkness of my soul, where I refused to even think about what happened.

  I said it, what I’ve held inside of me, the hate for what he did. The burden I’ve carried all this time. Everything feels so messed up. So lost in the darkness. So stopped from progress. So stuck, every part of me is stuck.

  “Hey, it’s after hours!” someone shouts, coming out of the office. They rattle the fence.

  “Sorry. I’ll go.” I pick up the gear and head to the fence gate, noticing the place is empty.

  “Oh, hey, you’re number five aren’t you? Bobby Anderson? Third baseman for Suncastle College?”

  “That’s me.” I don a fake smile, the same one I give to all my fans.

  “Oh, well, feel free to stay as late as you like.” He gets a big grin on his face. “I know you usually use the provided facilities, but we sure do like havin’ any of the Suncastle Knights perfectin’ their talent at our cages.”

  “I appreciate you not bein’ angry with me.” I nod, graciously.

  “Would love to know I’m helpin’ you play better.” There’s a pride in his eyes, that same pride that so many people show us. Suncastle loves our team. It’s a special gift to be on a good team, and in moments like this, and I know it.

  “I’m sorry, comin’ here right as you’re about to close, it’s not right of me. My old man would be ashamed if I was still under his roof. I do apologize.” And I mean it, so much fury got the better of my actions. I need to stop letting this happen. Find a better outlet.

  “Oh, no, not at all. You consider this an open invitation.” He fiddles around in his briefcase, pulling out a marker and a ball. “Would you mind signin’ this for my son? He’s a huge fan. I take him to as many games as I can. Whenever the schedule allows us to be there.”

  “Sure, I’d be happy to. What’s his name?” I’ve signed a few handfuls of balls, especially for boosters and a couple of my Tiny Knights.

  “Tony.”

  TONY, KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE BALL,

  BOBBY ANDERSON, #5

  I blow on the ink of my scribbles and hand him the ball. “Here ya go.”

  “Oh, he is gonna flip over this. Thank you so much. And good luck! End this season with a bang.”

  “Thank you, sir. I plan to.” I give him a big smile and go to my truck as if nothing in the world is wrong.

  Only everything is wrong.

  I know I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do. My brain is at war with itself. A million thoughts holding me prisoner. I was doing better, getting over my eating disorder. Taking care of myself. Trying so hard to do all the right things.

  Trying too hard.

  It’s all too much. I’m in the place of overwhelming grief and duty that drives me to do destructive things.

  I’ve hurt so many others. I deserve to hurt, like they do. It’s only fair.

  Mickey isn’t home. He’s never home. So he won’t hear me.

  I kneel on the bathroom rug and plunge my fingers down my throat until I heave.

  Sweet relief.

  42

  LEXIE

  I gave him a chance. Right?

  Everything glosses over as I put my paintbrush to the canvas, painting through tears. I should be going over practice questions for my certification exam. But all I can do right now is paint. The part of myself that Bobby helped me get back. Only I don’t feel whole. I feel as ruined as this incomplete canvas. The broken pieces of my soul fill me with an anguish I cannot shake.

  My heart aches, thinking about all the things he told me about being bi. I hate he has endured so much pain, that this world is so cruel. Our small town had no place for him. It took him months to tell me. I didn’t respond well when I wish I could have.

  He left me.

  Just like I left him.

  Are we this wrong for each other? It was only a few months that we gave this a try. Only a few months of thinking that he may be the one for me. Only a few months of dancing around what loving Bobby Anderson may be like.

  I think back to Christmas, to the gifts we gave to Cody’s family. About holding him on that mountain top. He wanted me to know that it wasn’t my fault.

  He told me that Cody had been with him that night when he died.

  No, no, I cannot think about that night. I fight the memory, but it comes with full depth.

  “Don’t you want to make love to me?” I screamed at Cody. “You tell me all the time that I’m beautiful and sexy but you won’t touch me.”

  A chill goes through me as I remember the way I spoke to him.

  “I’m not any good at this.” He covers his face with his hands.

  �
��Then learn how.” My tone is cold.

  “I can’t learn how!”

  He left in the pouring rain without a coat, leaving me naked in our sheets where he refused to take off his clothes.

  It’s all so clear now. Every bit of what he was. Every bit of how my pressure broke him. I was so blind.

  A million times, I’ve forced this memory away. Told it to stay locked up so that it can’t haunt me. But it still does. It haunts me every day, because the last words I said to him are the words I never would’ve said if I only would’ve known.

  Why didn’t you tell me?

  I’m lying in my bed, wondering how I got so lost. All these feelings are so much more than I know how to navigate.

  I love Bobby. I really do. It has pulled my heart apart every time I’ve seen him. Torture to feel that half of my heart is away from me.

  I deserve this, after the way I treated Cody. Fuck, I haven’t handled any of this very well. When Bobby mentioned more secrets, I felt on the verge of an anxiety attack.

  What would it take to trust him? What would it take to have him give us another chance? I swallow against my inflamed throat. It rips my soul to know that I need him, but he’s not with me.

  I debate going over to his place. But I won’t go where I’m not wanted. This stings a lot, because I wonder if Cody really wanted me.

  Can anyone ever want me?

  I sit on the floor and look at Cody’s notebooks again. The only piece of him I have.

  When I’ve been looking through all this, it’s been all about him and Bobby. But now, I’m looking for something else. Trying to change my lens enough to see the whole picture, instead of allowing my eyes to fill in details.

  Speak to me, Cody. Tell me what I need to know.

  And in his words, it’s all here, too.

  Cody loved me.

  He loved us both.

  It wasn’t a lie or a sick joke. He loved me the best he could with all he was battling inside. I wish you never had to try to force this. I wish you coulda been gay and free to love who you love.

  My heart hurts, because I understand. He wasn’t allowed to be himself. Even Bobby can’t come out unless he wants to risk his career and the way everyone sees him.

  I would’ve never been caught in the middle of them if they had felt free in the first place. Why can’t they be free to love who they love?

  I know that I want this for them, for everyone who cannot be free in the world we live in today.

  The pain in my heart morphs into something so beautiful, because I realize that I’m not mad at Bobby for being Cody’s lover. I’m happy that he was. I’m thankful that he could be there for Cody the way he longed for, even if the relationship didn’t last. I’m glad you got a little bit of time with him. I wish that things were different. Because you woulda had a beautiful life together if you coulda been allowed.

  I feel the sweetest relief wrap around me. Cody and I loved the best way we knew how. We tried. We did our best.

  “He could never hate you,” Bobby had said. And Cody doesn’t. I feel that in the warmth going through me now. I’m filled with peace and hope that everything will be alright.

  Bobby told me he loved us both. He never treated me like a second choice. I think he and Cody may or may not have worked out. But somehow, I think Bobby and I really could.

  I’m hoping Bobby just needs time. I force a breath, hug my arms tight. Our love is worth fighting for, and I’m going to keep on fighting until he sees all that we can be.

  43

  BOBBY

  THE LAST HOME GAME

  I pull on my jersey, feeling like it weighs a hundred pounds. I have no strength. No will. The excitement in the locker room is palpable, but I’m barely present.

  Standing in the dugout, my head is pounding. Black coffee sloshes in my gut, the only thing I’ve kept down in about a week. This is shitty timing. Ate just enough over the weekend to keep my weight level to pass my doctor’s appointment on Monday. Then I purged. Depleted my system, and just kept going like I couldn’t stop. And I couldn’t. I’ve heaved every fucking day this week.

  Last night I fell asleep on my bathroom tile until I woke up enough to climb into bed.

  Been lying through my teeth to Mindy, to Crossfit Santa, that I am doing fine. I never meant to lie. But I can’t stop. I need help, and I can’t let myself get it.

  I’ve fucked up everything that mattered to me. My own stupid choices. But I’m not giving up my last game.

  Mindy looks at me a little too long. “Feelin’ okay?”

  “Yep, I’m great.” I smile and nod, putting on a convincing show. When she moves on to check another player, I relax.

  We remove our caps, placing them over our hearts, listening to “The National Anthem” play like a farewell hymn. Cleats strut out onto our home field for the last time.

  “Make it count.” Zac throws me a cocky smile heading to first base with his number three jersey.

  “Make it count,” I echo. Man, I’m gonna miss playing college ball.

  I feel numb playing, but I still try. I’m not really here, in this moment. Feels like I’m watching life in slow motion, too weak to stand and run. But I do. Somehow I do. Playing the best I can for the last game I’ll ever play on this field .

  Lexie is here. I nod my head at her between innings, looking into those gorgeous eyes and wishing I was the man she deserved. The man that would’ve told her the truth sooner.

  The sun beats down on my skin, drying it and stretching it tight, making me regret not putting on any sunscreen. I’m so dehydrated that there are fuzzy spots in my vision. At the next break, I’ll grab a drink. I should probably rest a minute, but I’m not gonna. This is my last college game and so help me, I’ll play.

  “Drink more. It’s crazy hot.” Mindy hands me and several other players Gatorade, but I don’t feel like drinking. It’s not sugar-free.

  “You alright, Bobby?” She looks at me even longer than she did before the game. I passed all the checkups. I did what she wanted, most of the time.

  “Doin’ fine.” I give her that smile I give my fans.

  “You sure?” It’s a whisper and a couple guys look over.

  Just tell her, Bobby. Sit out. Get a snack. Do somethin’.

  Instead, I nod. Game is half over. No use telling her now. “I’m alright.”

  “Got tape?” Zac taps Mindy’s shoulder.

  “Yep.” She takes him to the first aid kit.

  Jeez, I shouldn’t lie to her. But this is my game and I’m not putting it at stake. I have to be out there. I sip down half of the bottle and set it on the bench before we go out to the field. Maybe the sugar will be enough to curb this headache.

  My body hungers for nourishment. I’ve pushed harder than I should, skating this dangerous line. The one where I know I’m being fucking stupid but too lost to do a damn thing to get myself out of this hole.

  I’m at third base. My home. My last game. I thought I would feel nostalgic but I don’t. I feel lost. Ruined. I ruined everything. Cody…why am I such a fuckup? God, I wish you were here to tell me it’s all gonna be okay. Because I need someone. Anyone. I’m utterly and completely alone, without a soul to turn to and take this pain away.

  My eyes wander to the dugout, to the purest love I’ve ever known. She was more to me than anyone ever has been. I’m so mad at myself. She thought our relationship was some “sick joke”. Our relationship was made up of me being incredibly selfish. I’m sorry, Lex. I’m really sorry.

  How much I miss Cody makes my throat seize up, like I’m on the verge of breaking down. How many days? I can’t remember.

  Did I really stop counting?

  I should be sweating with how hot it is, but I’m not. It’s like I’m too hot to sweat. Black dots float in my vision. The crowd is cheering as Conrad winds up and pitches. I know it’s loud, but I can’t hear anything. The black dots get bigger until I can’t see around them. I’m woozy, wishing for something to hold onto to
steady me.

  Oh shit, not during a game.

  I really did go too far this time.

  I shouldn’t have heaved last night. Carb loading woulda been better. I knew I shouldn’t. Couldn’t stop.

  My vision stays dark for too long. Reality melts into a weird inner space, like everything is surreal and hazy. It’s a bit like I’m floating, but somehow extra heavy at the same time. Like when I step out of a swimming pool after being there for hours.

  Gravity gets extra strong like it’s sucking me down. Or maybe some invisible force is pushing me to the ground and I’m too weak to fight it. I get really dizzy. It’s hard to breathe. I pull at my collar trying to get in some air.

  Something’s wrong.

  I’ve had bad moments before, but nothing like this. Vision comes back but not for long. Feels like I’m in a dream.

  Am I dying?

  Can I be with you Cody? Can I slip away? Between this overwhelming pain, I get a break. Hope spreads through me. I can be with him again. I can leave this world behind. All I want is to be with you.

  Through this heavy floating feeling, I wonder if it’s really it for me. Have I met my end? My demise? For a heartbeat, I worry about my folks. I worry about Lexie. But then I’m not worried anymore. Instead, I feel peace.

  Worry is replaced with a calming comfort that everything will be alright. That whatever happens now, there is meaning in it. I’ve lived the life I was meant to live and I can die here on the baseball field.

  I get to be with you, Cody. A hot tear runs down my face as I remember the look in his eyes right after we’d kiss. The warmth of his skin against mine. How I felt when I was with him. We can finally be together.