by Lindsey Iler
“Do you think I have a chance, Coach?”
“What do you think? What I think doesn’t matter.”
“My pitching has been clean and consistent. My mind sure is in the game.”
“Good.” He slaps me on the back and heads out of the field.
Unlike Coach Hagen in high school, Coach Boone keeps his players at arms-length. He gets to know us, but never too deep. His main focus is the game. Coach Hagen was nosy and nurturing, so the first time I saw Coach Boone on campus, I wasn’t sure what to think of his curt nod. Now I know it’s just the type of man he is. The first time I witnessed him running bases with his son, he became more human and less of a robot.
Finished with his punishment, Rico jogs to the fence and slings his bag over his shoulder. “What’s Coach Grumpy Ass want with you?”
“A scout wants to come watch me pitch, I guess.” I say, as we walk to the car.
Rico doesn’t say anything until we pull in the driveway. “Scouts are a big deal, man.”
“They are,” I answer. “When scouts came in high school, it all started to seem real. And now …”
“The world’s at your fingertips, Graham. Don’t go and fuck it up.” Rico jumps out and runs inside.
For another ten minutes, I sit in the car, thinking about what Coach and Rico said. My phone rings, and I reach behind me to fish it out of my bag. My mom’s name is on the screen. Not able to ignore it, I accept as I get out of the car and head inside.
“Hey, honey,” she says.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“In what world don’t you call to tell me you and Kennedy are back together?” she hollers.
I hear a familiar clink. “Mom, are you having a glass of wine?”
“Don’t lecture me. I’m your mother.” I hear her swallow what I assume is her normal white wine. “Regina, you know, Kennedy’s mother, and I are hanging out.”
“Hi, Graham,” Mrs. Conrad shouts.
“Tell her I say hi, and thanks for letting the cat out of the bag.”
“There shouldn’t be a cat in the bag. I’m your mother. I have every right to know when you and that sweet, beautiful girl get back together. It’s about damn time, is all I’m going to say about the matter,” she rambles. “Now, when’s the wedding?” She carries on a conversation with Mrs. Conrad as if I’m not listening.
“I’m hanging up now. I’ll talk to you later, Mom.” I groan.
“Oh, right. Well, I love you.” I hear the smile in her voice as she says goodbye.
Since they met, those two have been inseparable. Even through the drama and fall out, those two stand strong, continuing to believe in Kennedy and me. Mrs. Conrad has a way of uplifting anyone’s spirits.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I hustle to my room. When I push through the door, Ashlee is on my bed, her head resting on the pillow, masking the remnants of Kennedy’s soft scent. I yank the pillow out from under her and toss it across the room.
“I can’t deal with this shit right now.” I groan my disapproval.
“Don’t be like that,” Ashlee whines, propping up on her hands. Her chest pops out, and the broad smile on her face tells me she’s up to no good. “I’ve missed you.”
“Ashlee, there’s nothing to miss. What’re you even doing here? Who let you in?” I toss my phone on the bedside table and walk to the bathroom. “You better be gone when I come back out,” I yell through the closed door.
With the water from the shower running, I almost miss her tap on the door. She tiptoes in as I peek out the curtain.
“Seriously, Ashlee, take a hint,” I yell.
“I was just coming to tell you I’m sorry for intruding, and it won’t happen again.” Her hands go up in protest.
“Thank you.” Once I hear the door click, I finish my shower.
Ashlee can’t be called anything but persistent. The girl doesn’t quit when she puts her mind to something. Unfortunately for me, I’m her something these days. Sandy warned me Ashlee didn’t take rejection well, but I never expected it to this extent. Almost every day, I receive a text or picture in an attempt to lure me to her bed. To say the least, it makes me uncomfortable, and her dismissal of Kennedy grates on my last nerve. Although she’s kept her cool for this long, if Ashlee’s behavior goes on any longer, I’m not sure how Kennedy will react. I don’t think I want to be there to witness it unfold.
A twist of the knob heats the water to a scalding temperature. The stream beats down on my muscles, relaxing the strain from today’s practice. I stretch my neck from side to side, shutting my eyes. My mind wanders to Kennedy, to the first time I saw her dance in the city.
My eyes adjust to the darkness as I sneak into the auditorium. Faint noise comes from the stage as I take a seat in the back row, hidden from my reason for being in New York.
Kennedy.
I’m desperate to reach out, to shout her name at the top of my lungs. Instead, I listen as the audience falls in love with her, and I fall in love with her all over again.
The long, white top hangs off one shoulder, giving me a glimpse of her lacy bra. Long, bare legs make my hand itch to touch her. With her head bowed, she exudes confidence. Kennedy waits for her cue from the music.
A haunting melody erases the silence, and her head comes up. The fierce, unmoving way she scans her eyes over the crowd bewilders me. She doesn’t expect me to be here, but I imagine she’s searching for me.
Her toes sweep over the wood beneath them, and her arms and legs extend to great lengths. She floats on air. The beauty of her movement takes me to a time where she was mine. As the song reaches the climax, she beats and rips at her chest. The pain is palpable.
Unraveled and overwhelmed with what she has shared with us all, I race out the door the moment the music fades.
*****
“What’s going on tonight?” Rico asks.
“Not a damn thing.” I open the fridge, fussing with my wet hair. Turkey and cheese in hand, I go to the center island and make a sandwich. Rico stares at me the whole time. “Do you need something?”
“Come to the hoedown at Natalie’s.”
“Seriously?” I grumble around a bit.
“I know you’re all broody and in love, but you should come out for a bit. The rest of the team would appreciate it.”
Over the last seven months since I’ve come to Connecticut, the baseball field is the only time I’ve allotted for bonding with my team. In some ways, I’ve been both present and absent at the same time. So at the mention of a party, I’m compelled to be a team player.
“I’ll show up.”
Rico smacks my shoulder and whoops in celebration. Out of any of the guys, he’s tried the hardest to get me to mingle with the rest of the student body. On campus, the athletes are treated like gods. Girls gravitate to us, batting their eyelashes for a glimpse of hope to hook up. The guys look to soak up our magic ability of making panties drop. Guys like Rico live for the admiration, but I’m not searching for anything from anyone here on campus. I’ve signed the dotted line to fulfill a duty, play baseball, and not completely fuck up my chance at an education.
Not realizing how tired I am from practice, I rest for a few minutes. A loud pounding on my door wakes me. Rico and Griffin let themselves in without my permission, and throw my covers to the floor.
“Get up. The guys are waiting,” Griffin shouts, stomping to my closet.
“I may not go to parties as often as the rest of you, but I’m pretty sure I’m capable of dressing myself to go out in public.”
A white thermal, a pair of jeans, and ten minutes later, I hop in my car and follow Griffin to Natalie’s. Her place is across campus, which gives me enough time to call Kennedy. During my impromptu nap, she left me a cryptic voicemail about Bea, Amanda, and her going on a mission.
One. Two. Three. Four rings, then voicemail.
My mood plummets. I grumble as we park in front of a two-story bungalow. Cars line both sides of the streets, and music
pours from the windows and open doors. A girl waltzes by my passenger door, in the shortest pair of denim shorts, and a plaid shirt tied to expose her entire tanned stomach. She grins in my direction. One more unanswered call to Kennedy, then I slide my phone into my front pocket.
The country/pop style music blisters my ears when I walk inside. At my groan, Rico grins at me.
“Try to have a good time. Loosen up a little. I’m gonna go find Mark.” His bear-like hand smacks me on the shoulder, and he scampers in the direction of a scantily clad female who’s had her eyes on him since we waltzed in the door.
I push through the crowd, offering hellos and bro-hugs to every familiar face. Most comment on my absence all year. I ignore them, and push through to the kitchen where I’ll find beer and maybe space to sulk.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Ashlee stoops to eye level as I peer into the bottom of my red Solo cup. When my eyes peek over the lip, she’s playing with the tie of her plaid shirt and pressing out her chest. Her outfit is almost identical to the girl who walked by my car earlier. Their desperate attempt to draw attention makes me sick.
Ashlee presses up against me, forcing me to push off the counter. I pivot to the side. She senses my plan to slip past, and moves with me. My hands come between us to fend her off, and when she pushes her breasts against them, I jerk them back like I’ve been scalded.
This, this right here, is why I wanted to stay home. Why I haven’t bothered to come out. The way the girls look at me on campus makes me uneasy. Hell, in high school, as a freshman, I banged half of the seniors, so attention is nothing new to me, but it’s unwanted, nonetheless.
Several girls cluster in a group, side-eyeing us and whispering.
“I need you to take a step back, Ashlee,” I whisper to avoid embarrassing her. “Take. A. Step. Back.”
“Ask Rico. Hell, ask Griffin.” Ashlee raises an eyebrow, challenging me. “I won’t be a waste of your time.”
In my head, my mind goes through several stages of confusion. Griffin, really? My eyes break through the crowd to find Sandy’s head falling back with laughter. Griffin rustles her hair to the side and kisses her neck.
Ashlee’s eyes follow my gaze. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was before they met freshman year.” She grins, thrusting back against me.
I find it weird she could never imagine stepping in on Griffin and Sandy, but never takes Kennedy and me into consideration.
A hand skims up my chest and locks around my neck. She yanks me close and my eyes widen. I shove back, but her lips press against mine. Ashlee’s loud pants say she’s experiencing a completely different kiss than I am. My hands circle her biceps and I force her back. From somewhere in the room, I hear a loud gasp.
“Graham?” a familiar voice whispers.
And, in a matter of seconds, my heart drops into my stomach.
“Why are we wearing this again?” Amanda ghosts her hand at our matching jean shorts and plaid shirts. I scan the other girls in the house, thinking the answer is rather obvious. “Right, hoedown,” she points into the kitchen, “and it looks like a ho is about to go down.”
The girl Amanda indicates is on her tiptoes to align herself with her boyfriend’s staggering height. Even from behind, I can tell her chest is pressed against his. She leans in, wraps her hand around his neck, and presses her lips to his. In a matter of seconds, he grabs her arms and shoves her backward. When she drops to her feet, familiar dark hair appears. Over the top of her head, Graham’s shocked expression makes me gasp.
My eyes blur, and my heart pumps faster at the sight of his hands on someone else. “Graham?”
He hears my whisper and looks up, shame and embarrassment on his face. He should feel all those things. Tears form in the corners of my eyes as my whole world slips out from under me again. Bea’s hand lays limply on my arm. Her touch is the only force keeping my feet planted. I take a deep breath.
Graham races over to me and takes my hands in his. I’m unmoving. My eyes lock on everything and nothing at all.
“Listen to me, Kennedy, this is not what it looks like.”
Really? Because it looks like a mirror image of you and Amanda Junior year of high school.
I rip my hands from his and fold my arms across my chest. The girl I assume is Ashlee, smirks at me over Graham’s shoulder. A smug expression I’d be more than happy to wipe away with my fist. Lucky for her, violence isn’t my MO. Beside me, Amanda hums. If I ask her, she’ll do anything I need. Ashlee’s expression grows smug, making me realize this is what she wants. She’s the type of girl who finds happiness by bringing others down, and is never fully satisfied until she gets what she wants.
I shake the fog from my head. “You didn’t send me those texts, did you?” I whisper.
Graham’s brow furrows. “What texts?” He glances at Ashlee, a laugh quick on her tongue. When he turns back to me, the truth is in his eyes. “Kennedy, I swear, I didn’t send you any texts.”
“You didn’t send these then?” I ask. I show him the proof.
Sandy and Griffin push through the crowd we’ve conjured.
“She must have deleted them off my phone once she sent them to you. She had one part right.” Graham smiles, glancing up from the screen of my phone. “I do miss you, and I sure as hell didn’t want to come here without you. But that kiss, Kennedy …” He gestures behind him.
A hypnotizing melody plays from the speakers. Graham’s hand in mine, I lead him out of the kitchen to the makeshift dance floor. The space is crowded, but we squeeze into an open spot.
“Dance with me?” I whisper, ignoring his attempt to explain.
“Have I ever said no to a dance with you?” His hands wrap around my waist, and he tugs me close. His fingers graze the back pockets of my shorts and dip to the hem, tracing the cheeks of my ass. “I really hate you wearing these.”
“You love them, admit it.” I smirk, resting my head on his chest.
“I hate everyone looking at you,” he whispers in my ear.
“Welcome to my world, Graham Black. You can’t walk in a room without making a few wombs ache.” I smile up at him. “I know mine does when I see you.”
We sway together as if we’re between the sheets in his bedroom. The rhythm of the music makes me wish we were alone. His hand weaves through my hair above my ear, and we gaze at each other. Our desire thickens as my hands skim up and down his chest, burning my touch into every inch.
He dips his head to my ear. “Would it be wrong to say I’d gladly fuck you right here?”
I nibble on my lip, my chest rising and falling. When my eyes shut, his lips skim mine. As if the whole room disappears, he devours me. Between us, I reach down, and scrape my fingernails over the zipper on his jeans. From my light touch, he grows harder.
“You aren’t playing fair.” He hisses between his front teeth, grinding his hips against me.
My hand is trapped between us. My lips run the length of his jaw. His eyes shudder close, and I twirl in his arms, fitting my back to his front. My hands cup around his neck. Graham kisses a trail along my shoulder. My eyes spring open when his tongue runs behind my ear. The couples who were dancing around us have disappeared, leaving Graham and me alone on the dance floor. The song comes to an end. The heat of embarrassment creeps up my cheeks.
Graham leads me off the floor. I dig my heels in when we get to Ashlee. With Graham’s hand in mine, I square my shoulders, and jerk my head to the dance floor.
“That’s what you’re up against, sweetheart. Don’t think for a second, I don’t know what you are up to. If it was anyone else, I’m sure your tactics would work, but it’s not anyone else. It’s him and me, and I’m not above fighting for what’s mine.”
“I–” she mutters.
I stop her. “Be a lady. Walk away, and never, and. I. Mean. Never, try to come between us again. Girls like you don’t win against girls like me.”
Graham walks through the crowd so fast, he half-carries me so I can keep up. In the k
itchen, his arms wrap around my middle, holding tight to my waist.
“You, defending us …” He slides my hand over his straining zipper
“You liked that, huh?” I smirk, my lust-fueled eyes on him.
“I thought you were going to punch her, Kennedy.” Rico dips his head between us and kisses my cheek.
“I should’ve.” Graham hands me a cup of cheap beer.
“The night’s still young,” Griffin says as he walks over to me with his arms open. “I’ve never liked her, but she’s Sandy’s best friend.”
“If Graham didn’t get along with Violet, I don’t know what I would do,” I offer my understanding.
“Where’s the little firecracker at tonight, anyway?” Rico asks. “Aren’t you two like a package deal or something?”
“Dan and she are going through some stuff. She stayed in the city to figure it all out,” I answer.
At the mention of our two best friends, Graham tucks me tight into his side.
“Want to get some fresh air?” he whispers in my ear. My eager nod makes him laugh. “Let’s head outside.”
The backyard is near empty, except for a couple whispering in the back corner. Graham ushers me to the woodpile opposite of the smoldering fire pit. His hands grip my waist and effortlessly lift me on the unsteady mountain.
“Can we talk about what you saw?” Graham places his hands on each side of me, trapping me in his arms.
“Do we have to?” I brush my hand over his hair.
“All depends.” He grins. “Are you silently cursing my name, or do you believe me when I say I didn’t kiss her back?”
“A little bit of both, Graham. I hate you put yourself in a situation where she got close enough to kiss you, but I do believe you had no ill intentions.” I stare at the small red shed beside us.
“You’re right.” He moves into my line of vision, forcing my gaze to his.
“I am?”
“When I came home from practice today, Ashlee was waiting in my bedroom. After I told her to leave, I jumped in the shower, but I guess I left my phone in my room, and she sent those texts. Instead of making sure she understood nothing will ever come between you and me, I gave her an opening to try to.”
