Rounding Third

by Michelle Lynn

  She steps back, and I follow, unable to grant any distance between us.

  Just when she’s within a fingertip’s grasp, she plants her hand on my chest. “No, Crosby.”

  I freeze, refusing to move away. “Friends.”

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have released my emotions, but seeing you after all this time…so much has happened in my life, as I’m sure, in yours, too. I’m with Liam, and just because you’ve floated back into town doesn’t mean I’m going to break up with him.”

  “I’d never expect you to,” I lie because that’s exactly what I expect.

  Then again, seeing her has thrown the little amount of self-esteem I had coming here, back to Millcreek. Naively, I believed we’d have a long talk and be good to go. Now, it’s evident that our rekindling won’t be that simple. She’s the only girl in my future, but if she needs to go slow, we will. As long as she knows, one day in the near future, she’ll be mine.

  She narrows her eyes.

  “Scout’s honor.” I hold up three fingers.

  “You weren’t a Boy Scout.”

  “True.” I shrug. “But I admire them and would never use their oath in vain.”

  She shoves me in the shoulder, like she used to do. “You’re doing that whole humor deflecting thing again.”

  “I’m telling the truth.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She starts walking back toward the house, and I want to beg her to stay outside, to talk things out. Maybe dump her boyfriend.

  “I have to find Jen.”

  “Jen seems like someone who can handle herself,” I remark.

  She spins around, fury swimming in those blue eyes. “Crosby, you’ve had how long to prepare yourself for seeing me?” Her eyes turn to pleading.

  “Two months,” I deadpan, suddenly feeling as small as a mouse with a cat looming overhead.

  “I had no time. Not even one second. So, please”—she steps forward, pressing her palm right below my heart, only spurring a repeating video in my mind when her delicate hand would cover my heart—“give me a little bit of time. We need to talk, but please, I’m begging you, give me some space.”

  “I think you’re convincing yourself more than me.” The right side of my lips turn up.

  Her soft eyes flip back to anger. “Don’t, Crosby. I’m asking nicely. Do not do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “You know exactly what. Let me process this. My mind is like a hurricane. Every wave is crashing to shore with another damn thought or question drowning me before I process the first one. I need to work this out.”

  I want to scream that there’s nothing to work out. I’m back, and we both know we love each other. I don’t see the problem.

  “Okay,” I relent.

  She doesn’t give me another heart melting smile. Instead, she turns on her heels and heads for the house.

  I jog a few steps to catch up. “I said, okay. I’ll give you some time. We can be friends.”

  She stops right before the stairs to the house, and her eyes pin on me. “Okay.” Uneasiness now pierces her eyes, but she’s going to let the topic rest. She turns back around, climbing up the steps. “Now…to find Jen.” Her voice sounding exhausted.

  “Hey, Third Base, I had no idea you knew Ella Keaton, too!” a guy screams out.

  I have no idea which shitty second-string player it was. The cockiness in his voice has me suspecting that he knows Ella on a way too personal level. A level I’m not comfortable with. A level that will result in me kicking his ass to the next block.

  She stops to look to her right and beelines it right to the culprit. Before I can come back with a reply, she pushes the guy back, making him falter to the edge of the porch. He grips the top railing with fear in his eyes.

  “Don’t you dare,” she says through clenched teeth. She pushes him over the edge and into the hedge.

  The guys around him laugh. Seemingly happy with herself, Ella turns around, whizzes by me, and walks into the house.

  The music is thumping louder than earlier. Brax is sprawled out on the couch with his hands up the same blonde’s shirt. Oliver is watching two girls giving him a lap dance. I haven’t met our shortstop yet. For all I know, he’s one of these other guys. I look around to all the carefree college kids. My teammates are treated like rock stars. An array of girls, ready and willing, lingers on every wall, waiting for their turn. This is a wet dream for most guys. I wanted this once upon a time—until I lived a life without Ella.

  As though we can read each other’s thoughts, she turns around, and our eyes lock. For a moment, we’re back there—at a high school party, the prom king and queen, the envy of our classmates. We were the couple who would make it and prove statistics wrong.

  “I can’t find her.” She heads to Brax and kicks him in the shin.

  He ignores her, swatting his hand at her before it ventures down the blonde’s waistline.

  “Brax!” she screams.

  He slides his face to the side, allowing the blonde to mark his skin like a damn vampire.

  “I’m busy, El.” His head tips back, and his eyes close briefly from the pleasure he’s experiencing.

  “Where’s Jen?”

  “How the hell should I know? Check the bedrooms.”

  The blonde claims his lips again, and he swiftly flips her over to her back.

  Conversation over.

  “Seriously, go upstairs. No one needs to see you grinding,” Ella remarks. She peeks back at me before I can process the flush of her cheeks, she’s jogging up the stairs.

  “Why don’t you stay, and we can spend some more time together?” I argue, following her.

  Her eyes glance over her shoulder, giving me a look that says, Not if I were the last living person in a zombie-invading movie. “I need to get home.”

  “Where is that?” I ask, continuing to trail her from door to door as she knocks and jiggles each doorknob.

  “Nice try.” She gives me a condescending smile and moves to door number three—my room. It squeaks open, and she stops for a second in the doorway. Her hand covers the doorknob, her body stiffening like a statue.

  “Go ahead,” I urge her, walking up so my front meets her back.

  Her shoulders slump, but she proceeds forward. I follow her in and shut the door behind me.

  “This is your room,” she states as a fact. “Still organized.” She smiles over her shoulder at me.

  “Military preacher son. Stopped fighting it.” I lean against my desk, crossing my arms over my chest. I love having her in my space.

  “Do you mind?” She moves toward a collage of pictures on my corkboard.

  “Not at all.” I wait for her to look over Spence and my parents until she finds herself.

  “Crosby…” Her voice breaks, and her hand moves to brush on the picture taken after Beltline won state our senior year. She had just jumped in my arms, and we’re smiling at one another. My best memory in two years. It was stuffed away in a box from when we moved from Beltline until my dad found it.

  She turns around, and the wetness in her eyes grips my heart. My stomach churns because I’m to blame for her misery. She should be happy and smiling every minute of every day. That’s the Ella I remember, not this one where my mere existence in her life saddens her natural glow.

  “We were quite the couple,” I say.

  But she remains quiet.

  “Where’s Spencer?” she asks, changing the subject.

  “He’s here. Another reason I came to Ridgemont. To be near him.”

  Her eyes widen, and a genuine smile fills her face. “I can’t wait to see him.”

  Spencer and Ella had an odd connection. In high school, Spencer was quiet and reserved. He and Ella formed a friendship through video games, which made me mad with jealousy because she’d spend her time with him when she came over.

  “Ariel is here, too.”

  My mouth drops open.

  “All four of us are at the same university? Who woul
d have thought?”

  She nods. “I helped Mom and Dad move her in today.”

  “Where?”

  She sits down on the bed, and I’m enjoying this easy conversation. There are no expectations or hurt from the past lurking in our words.

  “Musselman Hall. It’s in the small group area of campus. A cluster of dorms for freshmen.”

  “You have to be shitting me! Spencer’s there, on the second floor.” I slide my desk chair out and sit down.

  “Would they even recognize each other? I mean, they ran in different circles back then.”

  “I’m not sure.” I fail to divulge that Spencer has loved Ariel for as long as I’ve loved Ella.

  The room grows silent, and I wish I’d never agreed to separate from each other. I haven’t healed from that accident any better without her.

  “What’s your major?” she asks, picking up an econ book from my nightstand. She thumbs through it like the subject interests her.

  “Business. Finance,” I say.

  She nods, continuing to check out the book. “Economics interests you?” She shuts the book and places it back on the nightstand. “It’s weird, you know? I feel comfortable around you, but at the same time, I don’t. Like…”

  “Like being among your personal things in a foreign place?” It’s how I felt after I moved to Colorado.

  “More like, I’m in my home among someone else’s things.” Her eyes scan the room, looking at my baseball posters and the Millcreek Junior College flag. “There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

  I pick up the baseball from my desk and toss it back and forth in my hands, needing something to do before I rush over to the bed and beg her to be mine again.

  “You know the core of me. More than anyone else.”

  I stare directly at her, but she diverts her eyes faster than a scared child. She rises to her feet, and my heart aches because she’s leaving me.

  “I should find Jen.”

  Right as she says it, a couple starts arguing outside my door.

  “You fucking bitch!” Jen yells.

  Ella’s footsteps move quickly. She grips the knob and swings the door open.

  “Jen?” Ella wraps her arms around her friend’s half-naked body.

  “Seriously, she hit me.” Jen’s hand rubs her cheek.

  My eyes scan to find a purple-haired girl standing in the doorway across from mine. She’s got a cocky smirk, and her eyes are pinned directly on Jen.

  “He’s mine. Get out.” The girl’s eyes seek out the shirtless guy in limbo between the two women.

  “Sorry, I must have missed the sign when his dick was in me,” Jen spits back. Her eyes narrow on the guy.

  He’s built, but he’s an inch or two shorter than me. He has dark skin and hair with brown eyes, fearful at the moment.

  “Get her out of here, Ty,” the purple-haired girl says with confidence, like she didn’t just find her boyfriend cheating on her.

  “Listen, Jen—”

  I recognize the name. He is Tyler Saucedo, our shortstop.

  He steps closer, and I catch a glimpse of Purple Hair breezing by me.

  “Would you like me to hit her again?”

  Tyler puts his hands in the air to calm the girl down. “Go in the room.”

  Ella and I share a look of shock when the girl actually listens. Once she’s in the room, she tosses Jen’s shirt out the door and it lands on her face.

  Scurrying, Jen puts it on, and after she’s covered, Ella steps away from her.

  “Listen, we broke up last week. I’m not sure why she’s here. I’m going to talk to her, and then I’ll text you,” Tyler says to Jen.

  She looks up at him with soft eyes until he moves to touch her.

  “Go to hell, Ty.” She turns to the stairs and runs down them with Ella on her heels.

  Tyler watches her until she disappears around the corner. He’s sulking back to his room when he catches sight of me. “Hey, man.” He quickly stops, and he must register who I am. “Third base?” He tilts his head up in the air in question.

  “Yeah. Shortstop?”

  “Yeah. You know Ella, right?” A glint of something flashes in his eyes.

  “Yeah. From back in high school.”

  “That’s what Brax told me. Anyway, can you walk them home?” There’s an honest concern for Jen’s well-being in his sunken demeanor.

  “Yeah.” I move toward the staircase.

  “Hey.” He walks over to me and holds his hand out. “Welcome to the team.”

  I smile and shake his hand. “Thanks.”

  We separate quickly, me going down the stairs and him walking to his room.

  The girls are already at the corner before I catch up to them. Jen’s got a bottle of vodka swinging back and forth in her right hand while Ella’s arm is wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

  “He’s a baseball player—player being the key word,” Ella says.

  I bust out with a laugh. She whips around, a long strand of brown hair sticking to her glossed lips. My guess is, she just put some on because I would have had a hard time controlling myself if her lips looked that good before. Not that her lips could look unkissable.

  “Why are you here?” she asks, her eyes throwing daggers faster than I can ward them off.

  I guess, when one guy is a dick, we all are.

  “Tyler asked me to walk you home,” I half-lie. I was going to anyway, but this way, I don’t appear too needy.

  “What does he care?” Jen asks with tear-stained cheeks.

  Upon meeting her, I assumed she was a diamond chaser, but I was wrong. She must honestly like Tyler, or the alcohol has turned her into a scorned drama queen. Alcohol has the same effect on me, that’s why I never allowed myself to consume too much after freshman year.

  “I can’t answer that. I met the guy five minutes ago, but he asked, and I’m happy to oblige.” I come alongside Ella and take a swig of the vodka to show that I’m one of them.

  “Of course you are. You want in Ella’s pants,” Jen remarks. But then she links her arm with mine, leaning close enough that I can smell Tyler’s cologne. “So, mystery man, what’s your story?”

  “Um…”

  Loaded question.

  “He’s known Brax and me since high school,” Ella intercepts.

  “I got that.” Jen invades my personal space again. “You can tell me later when she’s not around.”

  Ella circles to the other side of Jen as the walk continues because Jen’s starting to weave. At one point, I’m holding all her weight.

  We reach their apartment, which is only five blocks away from The Ballpark. It’s off Main Street where all the bars and restaurants are located, whereas the baseball house is on Athlete Row—two streets of rented houses, each one filled with Ridgemont athletes. Talk about testosterone overload.

  “You got her?” Ella asks.

  Jen’s whole weight rests in my arms. Reaching under her legs, I pick her up, bride-style, to make it easier on the both of us.

  Ella opens up the door and flicks on the lights.

  I enter a part of Ella’s new life and follow her into what I assume is Jen’s room. Clothes are scattered on the bed, but Ella lifts the comforter, resulting in the pile of clothes falling to the floor.

  “I’ll be right out. I’m going to undress her and make sure she’s on her stomach.”

  I nod and leave Jen’s room, shutting the door behind me.

  Their apartment is cute and girly. Noticing what I assume is her room on the right, I turn on the light and walk in. Instantly, the smell of her perfume engulfs my senses. The light and airy scent hits my nostrils, and I’m back on Screw Hill with her in my arms.

  Her desk is cluttered with papers and books, but her bed is made, and no makeup is strewed around her dresser, like Jen’s. My eyes fixate on a picture frame placed next to her phone charger. Instantly, I recognize it.

  Walking over, I try to convince myself that looking at the picture is n
ot a good decision. Seeing their faces will only make the heartache worse, especially since she’s not mine to hold close tonight. If that’s the picture I remember, it confirms that she’s healed, and I’m not because there’s no way I could stare at this picture every day.

  The silver frame is the first thing that stands out. Second, there’s an engraving on the bottom—Friends Forever. I vaguely remember that Ella received this as a birthday gift from Kedsey. Then, my eyes finally focus on the image. The four of us are standing side by side with goofy smiles and arms hanging over each other’s shoulders. Kedsey’s and Ella’s cheeks are pressed together. We were best friends.

  Noah’s brown eyes haunt me every night. Even now, through this picture, I’m there, in that car, hearing his choking voice begging for safety.

  “Hi.” Ella’s voice pulls me back from the memory.

  “You’re able to look at them every day?” I ask, the picture frame dropping onto her mattress, as though it were moments away from spontaneously combusting in my hands.

  “Yes. They were a part of my life. You all were.” She steps further into the room, her hands behind her back, and leans against the wall.

  She’s fearful. She doesn’t know how I’ll react.

  “But to be constantly reminded of it…” I shake my head.

  “Crosby, you know that it wasn’t—”

  Unable to hear the classic bullshit line, I push past her. “I need to go.”

  “You haven’t healed, have you?”

  I whip around and look at her. Those sad fucking eyes from two years ago are staring back at me.

  What the hell did I think I’d accomplish by coming to Ridgemont? Is baseball this fucking important that I’ll torture myself all over again?

  “Healing?” I shake my head again. “There’s only moving forward from something like that.” I open her apartment door, slamming it shut.

  Chapter Four

  Ella

  I watch Crosby from my window. He’s outside the apartment across the way bent down on his knees, pulling on the strands of his hair. Obviously, he’s at war with himself. A part of me hopes he’ll come back and let me console him. Hell, we need to console each other. We’re the only ones who know the hell of that night, and we both chose to push the grief away and ignore the power it held over us.