“This year, we go all the way!” Tyler roared, causing the team to bellow a unanimous “Trojans! Trojans! Trojans!” chant.
“Okay, okay,” Coach interrupted waving for everyone to settle down. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but let’s get to the lineup, shall we?”
The benches fell silent again.
“I want to mention one last thing before I read off your names,” Coach added. “I based my decision solely on your performance. That being said, this is an ever-evolving game. Keep leaving it all out there on the field and I promise you’ll get where you need to be.”
Coach’s eyes met mine and my confidence tanked.
Why did I have a feeling that last comment was directed at me?
I didn’t have time to dwell on it. All my attention was focused on the names and positions being announced.
“Tyler Bishop, team co-captain and starting pitcher. Lucas Hargrove, team co-captain and starting catcher. Tommy Hunt, starting first baseman. Dustin Reynolds, starting second baseman. Jesse Reyes, starting third baseman. Alex Prince, starting shortstop. Josh Cruz—”
“What?!” I shouted, my body moving me to my feet of its own accord.
Coach paused for a moment, leveling me with a glare that warned me not to challenge him, but the indignation coursing through my veins blocked out all reason.
“You’re not seriously starting her over me!” I yelled.
“King, interrupt me again and it’ll cost you a lap.”
“Screw this!” I yelled marching past him.
I stomped through the dugout so swiftly my teammates had to pick up their feet to avoid getting trampled. My cleats hit clay and I started to run, but I wasn’t about to do a lap. I could do a hundred laps and it still wouldn’t put a dent in the fury burning through my veins.
I, Grant King, Northwood High baseball god, had just been unseated by a girl.
If anyone thought I was going to take this lying down, they had another thing coming.
I faintly heard Coach calling after me, but I kept going, jogging down the concrete stairs toward the locker room. I didn’t stop until I was on my bike pedaling toward . . . I don’t actually know what I was pedaling toward. All I knew was I had to get away before I exploded.
I’d spent most of my life trying not to turn out like my dad, but for the first time ever I think I finally knew how he felt. My world was being torn apart by a girl and I didn’t know what to do about it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alex
Trojan Tattler:
The season hasn’t even officially started, but the Trojans can already claim their first walk off. The bad blood continues to flow as our ruthless Princess dethrones much-loved monarch, Grant King for starting shortstop. Don’t feel bad, Grant. No one can reign forever.
I skipped over the slew of comments to read the next post on the Tattler.
Trojan Tattler:
The Official Team Roster is live. Congrats to the boys (and girl) leading us to victory this season. * = Starters (C) = Captains
Tyler Bishop* - pitcher (C)
Lucas Hargrove* - catcher (C)
Alex Prince* - shortstop
Tommy Hunt* - first base
Dustin Reynolds* - second base
Jesse Reyes* - third base
Josh Cruz* - left field
Mason Wallace* - right field
Asher Shaw* - Center field
Grant King - infielder (C)
Levi Snyder - infielder
Owen Hart - infielder
Quinten Spencer - outfielder
Devin Olsen - outfielder
JJ Palmer – pitcher
Wyatt Dunn – pitcher
Jude Hudson - catcher
Ben Andrews – bull pen
Dillon Weaver – bull pen
Justice Green – bull pen
I couldn’t stop pinching myself. I was actually starting on a varsity boys’ baseball team! And not just any team—the Trojans!
Though I’d been skeptical at first, I could now say all the hype was warranted. The Trojans were an incredible ball club and I was honored to be a member. The only thing putting a damper on my spirits was Grant’s reaction.
What a toddler!
Who storms off the field like that?
I couldn’t believe everyone continued to call me Princess when it was obvious Grant King was the biggest drama queen on the field!
I pushed the thought away when I heard my dad’s voice downstairs. I couldn’t wait to tell him the good news. I’d specifically left Tyler’s post-practice party early so I could celebrate with my family.
My parents were standing in the kitchen when I walked in. My dad was leaning against the counter with his phone pressed to his ear while my mom stirred something at the stove.
“Hi, sweetie,” she greeted. “How was your day?”
“Excellent!” I replied.
My mom stopped stirring and grinned at me, excitement making her eyes shine. “Really? Excellent? Would that be because you got a date to this carnival I’ve been hearing about?”
My heart sank. Of course my mom would think good news was due to a date. She was still waiting for me to wake up one morning and be the daughter she dreamed of. The dozens of unworn dresses she’d bought me over the years flashed through my mind as I realized no matter how excited I was by my news about claiming a starting spot on the Trojans, it would still be a disappointment to her.
“Sweetie?” she said, concern in her voice. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, Mom. What’s for dinner?”
“Chicken Marsala but don’t change the subject. Tell me about your excellent day.”
“Maybe later. I just remembered I have some more homework to finish up before dinner.”
I headed back to my bedroom, trying to shut out the hope I’d seen in my mom’s eyes. I would forever be her disappointing daughter, no matter what I accomplished on the ballfield and that crushed me more than anything.
Why was it that joy was so much harder to hold onto than hurt?
Grant
It was nearly ten by the time I showed up at Tyler’s barn. I knew the team would head there after practice to celebrate. We always went to Ty’s to talk strategy after the official lineup was posted. This party was strictly for teammates so I knew I wouldn’t be walking into the chaos of the Roster Rager this time, but I’d still held off going until later, hoping to miss Alex.
It seemed at least one thing had gone my way today. I scanned the barn and didn’t see the infuriatingly beautiful brunette anywhere. Just a bunch of my teammates playing video games and pool.
I nodded a greeting as I entered, causing all conversation to stop.
Tyler put his pool stick down. “Look who decided to show up.”
Anyone who hadn’t been watching me was now.
“You know this party is for teammates only,” Tyler added.
“Lay off, Ty. He’s still on the team,” Lucas interjected.
“Is he?” Tyler challenged.
“I am,” I countered. “For now.”
Lucas frowned. “For now?”
“We need to talk to Coach about Alex. The damage she’s doing has to stop—”
Tyler cut me off. “No, you need to stop, Grant.” he said confronting me. “Alex is part of the team, so get on board or get out of the way.”
“Give me a break, Ty. If you weren’t trying to date her, you’d be just as pissed as me.”
He gave me a cocky smirk. “So, you hate her, cause you can’t date her?”
“I do not want to date anyone, especially not Alex Prince!”
“Then you won’t mind if I do, right? I mean I need a date for the carnival and that girl’s such a snack I won’t even need any cotton candy.”
Dustin laughed and fist bumped Tyler, making my blood boil, but I refused to let them see me sweat. I’d known Tyler my whole life. He was always the kid who only wanted to play with a toy once someone else picked it up. And since he had a habi
t of getting what he wanted, the last thing I wanted him to know was that the next words out of my mouth were far from true.
“Be my guest,” I muttered, hating the bitter taste of each word.
Lucas pushed his way between us before Tyler said anything else. “Can we all just chill? We’re on the same team.”
Dustin put a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, it’s not that big a deal, man.”
“Not that big a deal? Open your eyes! Alex Prince is turning our team into a three-ring circus. She’s already got a fan club of kids showing up at practice in tutus and tiaras and the season hasn’t even started yet.”
“Whose fault is that?” Lucas asked. “You’re the one who orchestrated the tiara thing and started calling her Princess.”
It was true my childish hazing had backfired, but how was I supposed to know the girl was immune to ridicule? I swear she was made of Teflon. All the crap I threw at her just slid off and landed on me. “Are none of you concerned that we’re getting attention for the wrong reason because of her?”
“Not really,” Dustin replied. “We were just on ESPN because of her.”
I blinked in shock. “What?”
Tyler grinned. “Apparently having a girl on our team is national news.”
I threw up my hands. “Fine! The whole damn world can love Princess Alex for all I care, but I’m telling you right now she’s going to ruin us.”
“Maybe you’re just afraid she’s going to ruin you,” Tyler called after me as I left the barn.
As I rode my bike into the night, I worried he’d seen right through me.
More than that, I worried he was right.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grant
The next day at school I was called out of my first period class to the principal’s office. Coach was waiting there for me and I could already tell he was about to rip me a new one from the expression on his face. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest and I could see his jaw clench and unclench.
I blew out a breath and ran a hand over my face in frustration. I’d had a lot of time to think last night as I rode my bike aimlessly around town and I’d come to the realization that I had no one to blame but myself. It certainly wasn’t Coach’s fault that I’d been distracted by a brunette beauty hellbent on ruining my life.
I owed him an apology and I started to do just that as I followed him into the Principal’s office, but I stopped short when I saw who was already seated there.
Alex Prince turned in her chair to face me, her token red sunglasses perched atop her silky brown hair. Equal parts anger and admiration washed over me every time I saw her and though she’d just stolen my position, I still couldn’t manage to convince myself I didn’t want to kiss her when she bit her perfect lips.
“Please take a seat, Mr. King,” Principal Turner said when he noticed me loitering in the doorway.
Unfortunately, the only unoccupied chair was next to Alex. I took it, fighting the enticing smell of her shampoo.
Coach leaned against a bookcase scowling at me as Principal Turner spoke. “It’s been brought to my attention that you disagree with Coach Beeler’s decision to field Miss Prince on the roster, Mr. King.”
“I don’t disagree with it, I just—”
“You just storm off the field like a two-year-old,” Alex muttered under her breath.
“Excuse me?” I snarled.
“Enough!” Coach bellowed.
The room fell silent and Coach turned to the principal. “Can you give me a minute with them?”
Principal Turner nodded and left the office.
Coach leaned over the desk; his dark eyes boring into mine. “If the two of you can’t figure out how to work together neither of you will be playing on my team, do you understand?”
“But that’s not fair!” Alex exclaimed.
“Nothing about this is fair,” I added, earning another seething look from her haunting blue eyes.
“Life’s not fair!” Coach interjected. “You should know that by now, Grant. But I mean it. I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior on my team. Team being the key word. What we do on that field we do together and if you can’t figure out how to work together, you’re out.”
“Yes, sir,” Alex said, tentatively meeting his eyes.
Coach’s stare swiveled to me. “King?”
“Fine,” I replied, curtly.
“Good. I’m giving you two weeks to prove to me that you can live up to your word and work together. That means on the field and off.”
My eyebrows rose. “What does that mean?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Coach replied. “I’ve decided you’ll both be heading up the team tents at the carnival.”
I blinked. “What? Why?”
“Because I said so, that’s why.”
“With all due respect, sir, how is working at the carnival going to help us on the field?” Alex asked.
“I need you two to prove you can work together and step in and out of your roles on the field seamlessly. Grant, if you’d stuck around yesterday, I could’ve explained that I plan to rotate you and Alex at shortstop each inning. You both have unique skillsets that will keep our opponents guessing. Switching you out will prevent the batters from getting a read on the field. This tactic can be highly effective, but only if you can work together. I need you to be able to communicate efficiently and I need you to work seamlessly without the rest of the team having to make adjustments.”
Alex was anxiously chewing her thumbnail as she glanced between me and Coach.
Had he shared this information with her already?
From the perplexed look on her face, I doubted it. Maybe she was as shocked as I was. Going from thinking she was the sole starter to having to ride the bench every other inning wasn’t an easy pill to swallow.
I should know.
But I couldn’t help but admit it was a good strategy. “That could work,” I said.
Coach huffed a laugh. “It could work quite well if you’re both willing to put the team first.”
“I’m willing to do whatever you think’s best for the team,” Alex said “but I’m still confused about the carnival.”
“The carnival is an annual fundraiser for the Trojans. We host a few of the game tents. Fast pitch, water gun race, balloon darts, ring toss, things like that. You two are going to be in charge of tent assignments. It’ll help you work together and figure out how to communicate efficiently.”
“But doesn’t Tyler’s mom usually organize everything?” I asked still hoping to find a way out of this nightmare.
“She does and she’ll still be carrying most of the weight. What I need from you two is to figure out what tents she needs manned so you can set up a schedule to have your teammates work shifts. And I expect it to run smoothly. Mrs. Bishop will be giving me a full report and if she’s not satisfied, you’re both off the team. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Alex replied, her blue eyes bright with determination.
Both she and Coach turned expectantly to me.
I finally sighed and scrubbed my hand over my face. “Seems like I don’t have a choice, so yeah, let’s do this.”
“Good,” Coach replied. “Don’t let me down.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alex
“So, what now?” I asked after we left the Principal’s office.
Grant shrugged. “We figure out how to convince Coach we can tolerate each other.”
“Or we could actually learn how to tolerate each other,” I suggested sarcastically.
Grant looked at me like pigs would fly before that happened and I couldn’t blame him. Since day one, I’d met every one of his taunts and pranks with equal vigor. But if either of us hoped to have a chance to play as Trojans this year, one of us needed to make the first move toward reconciliation.
From the way Grant’s jaw muscles were twitching, I knew it was going to have to be me.
“Do you want to call Tyler’s mom about the carn
ival or should I?” I asked.
“I’ll do it,” Grant muttered.
I tried to hide my relief. The last thing I needed was to be calling Tyler’s house. It was already hard enough to keep shooting down his flirtatious advances. Luckily, his overinflated ego seemed to make him oblivious to my annoyance. I really hoped this carnival nonsense wouldn’t undo all my carefully planned Tyler avoidance. I didn’t want to give him false hope by showing up at his house to work on the details. One teammate despising me was enough.
I glanced sideways at Grant as we walked down the empty hallway in silence toward chemistry. The bell signaling the end of first period would be ringing any minute so there was no reason to go back to our previous classes. Not a fan of wasting time, I decided to use the rare moment of silence to clear the air.
“Listen, I meant what I said in there, Grant. I’m willing to put the past behind us and work with you for the good of the team.”
He stopped walking and turned his stormy gray eyes upon me. It was intensely satisfying to command his full attention, yet equally terrifying. I didn’t shrink easily, but already I could tell anyone who faced Grant King on the field was in for a fight. Maybe Lucas had been right. Maybe all this time Grant had been treating me like he treated everyone—as a threat.
It made me wonder what Coach had meant when he’d said Grant should know life isn’t fair.
What had happened to him to make him this way?
Did it have anything to do with why he didn’t date?
Now more than ever I was sure there was more to Grant King than he let on. It made me second-guess my behavior toward him. My parents had raised me to be strong, but not unyielding. They wouldn’t like knowing my success had come at someone else’s expense.
Playing the Field Page 11
