Chapter Eleven
“Raine,” Trip’s deep voice vibrated down my spine, hitting each vertebra before leaping to the next.
Ever since leaving Trip’s parents I’d replayed the conversation we had on a nonstop loop. Ignoring Trip’s calls as I got ready for the game was my main focus.
When I arrived on the field I was able to continue avoiding Trip. Coach Mae was my savior when she had us warm up together as a team. Trip tried to catch my eye whenever he was near, but with my wicked ninja skills I was able to evade him.
With the team now broken off into our different positions there was no way of avoiding him anymore.
Ninja skills deactivated.
I threw a wild pitch and Trip stalked over.
“Raine, we need to talk.”
“Girls, locker room now,” Coach Mae yelled.
That woman has impeccable timing.
I shot Trip an apologetic smile and jogged to the locker room. Every game Coach Mae gave a pregame pep-talk and I’d never been happier to listen to her than I was at that second.
“Ball four, walk,” the umpire yelled again.
I lost the count on the amount of times he screamed that phrase.
Trip decided to start me, and the way I was pitching it was the wrong decision.
Who’s the baseball genius now?
“Time,” Trip screamed, his hand pushing the brim of his hat up and down on his forehead.
“Raine, it’s not what it looks like,” Trip said quietly as if someone would overhear him on the mound.
“It looks like I’ve walked and gave up more hits than I have since the beginning of my softball career.”
“You know what I’m talking about. I’ve been trying to call you so I could explain, but you haven’t answered your phone.” Trip lifted the bill of his hat and his blue eyes pleaded with me to listen to him.
“Trip, if you’re talking about your relationship with Robin there’s no reason to explain. We’re friends, remember?” My fingers dug into the leather of my mitt as I fought the tears wanting to form.
Trip’s jaw worked side to side as his eyes narrowed.
“We’ll talk about this later. You cannot avoid me, friend.” He spat the word friend out like it was vile, and at the moment it was. “Just pitch like I know you can so we can get this miserable inning over with.”
Trip stomped off and I waited. I waited for the remark that would light the pitching fire under my ass. I had to blink away the tears when it didn’t come.
By some miracle I was able to strike out the next three batters. I felt nothing. Even relief the inning was over didn’t engulf me. All I wanted to do was go home and lick my wounds. Well, that and avoid Trip.
My parents waved at me from the bleachers, and I returned it with a half-hearted hand movement, too pathetic to be called a wave. Renee and Norah stood and screamed my name before I dove into the safety of the dugout.
“Practice, tomorrow. Don’t be late. I hate losing and I especially hate losing because of sloppy playing,” Coach Mae’s voice was steel as she dressed us down after the game.
Our winning streak was over. We’d lost by three, even with Claire relieving me the third inning. Trip kept stealing glances at me, but I lurked in the middle of the herd, keeping him away.
“Get home and think about your playing today.” Coach Mae’s eyes flitted over my face and guilt assaulted me.
It was my fault the team lost, and by the way the girls avoided talking to me they agreed. The urge to remind them I was the second string pitcher was strong, but somehow I was able to refrain. With Trip’s weird magic he wove, most of the team saw me the starting pitcher. I’d let them down today and it could all be blamed on the word friend.
“Coach Butler, meet me in my office.” Coach Mae walked to her office without waiting to see if Trip would listen.
