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“Stick around after the game and we can work on that gag reflex of yours together, Vi.”
I give her a wink when her mouth falls open before I walk off.
Fuck, Violet Raines is going to be fun.6VioletI’m not running away.
I repeat those words the entire time I’m sprinting away from the baseball field. There’s no reason for me to hurry. The game isn’t over, so there’s no way Mike Huntington will follow me. Camden got distracted talking to one of the teachers, so she’s not around to ask me more questions. And the bus won’t be at the stop for another twenty minutes, so I have plenty of time.
It doesn’t matter. I’m sprinting because I want out of there. I got mean, hateful looks from the cheerleaders all night – the worst coming from Lindy. I don’t give a damn, but it’s bad enough being on asshole’s radar. I didn’t really want to be brought to the attention of his harem – and according to Camden, he’s had every girl on the squad at least once. That fact alone makes him disgusting, even if I hadn’t seen him getting a public BJ from Lindy on my second day in this school.
My heart is beating erratically. I’d like to think it’s because I’m out of shape and I mostly jogged the four miles it takes to get to the bus stop, but I think it’s fear. Mike Huntington is trouble. He’s threatening my plan to keep my head down and push through this final year of high school. I can’t afford distractions. I can’t afford to get on the mean girl hit list, which I’m sure this place has, because every school I’ve attended has one.
There’s too much depending on this year. I have to find a way to get off this asshole’s radar.
I don’t breathe easier until the bus pulls up to the stop. Once I get settled in my seat, I press my head against the window and close my eyes.
Sometimes I get so tired of trying to push through. It seems like my entire life has been one battle after another. I rarely allow myself to sink into self-pity. Tonight I feel the urge to wallow in it. I don’t have that luxury, though. I’ll have to get ready and then be at work within ten minutes of getting home. I’m beat from being in school all day and then going to that stupid ballgame.
I didn’t want to go, but Camden wanted me to attend and meet her there. She called it a test run. She wanted me to watch the game and then write up a story for the paper tomorrow. It seemed like a lot of hassle to me. I personally think it would have been fine to type up a story saying that Black Mountain lost the game because Big Mike isn’t nearly as good at playing baseball as his ego would lead everyone to believe.
When I told Camden that, she rolled her eyes.
I really want to nap, but I can’t. As exhausted as I feel, if I go to sleep, I’ll miss my stop. So I force myself to stay awake. I’ll try to take a nap after work and before school. There won’t be time to truly sleep. I remind myself – not for the first time – that I just have to get through this year. If I can get the scholarship that I have my eyes on, college will be easier. I can get a part time job and that’s it.
I just have to focus.
And not let Mike Huntington derail me.
Somehow, I have a feeling that is going to be easier said than done.7Mike“Damn, is the world coming to an end?”
I look up to see my brother, Parker, standing at the front door. He’s scruffy, and his clothes are wrinkled, telling me that he just got in. He lives in Texas, but since making the jump into the Major League, he’s been staying here more and more on the weekends. That’s been good for several reasons. My brother is cool, and I love him, so it’s nice to see him. Secondly, if he’s here, I fall through the cracks and Dad lays off me. Which, after the way I played yesterday, is something I’d dearly love to have happen.
I lower my spoon down and put it back in the bowl of cereal I was eating.
“It’s too early in the morning for Parker riddles,” I grumble. Parker laughs. Of the two of us, he’s definitely more relaxed and easygoing. I’m not like that at all. I play that part, but it’s not who I am. It’s a chore. Then again, Parker and I have always been polar opposites.
“You’re home on a Saturday morning,” Parker laughs.
“I live here.”
“True, but you’re always at a game, or at Ben or Davis’s house. The fact that you’re home and not hung over is really weird.”
