“All-Star rosters are out.”
Evan felt his stomach sink, even as the energy in the room changed quickly. Guys straightened where they sat, and players who’d spent the last two weeks talking about how much they didn’t care unsurprisingly cared enough to hold their breath. Even guys who knew they had no chance suddenly paid attention.
He already knew how this would go. If his name wasn’t called, everyone would ask if he was disappointed, as if he expected to be voted in. If it was called, there would be congratulations, cameras, interviews, more smiling than anyone should have to do, and three days of a circus spectacle that he was supposed to consider an honor. And he did. He’d been surprised and honored when he’d been selected during the three previous seasons. But the All-Star break was the only real chance for rest during the season, and being selected meant everyone else got four days off and he would be across the country without a chance for real relaxation.
There really wasn’t a good outcome, just different versions of being perceived.
Reyes glanced down at the paper. “For us, first up is Delgado.”
The room exploded. Hands hit Evan’s shoulders from three different directions, and Noah nearly tackled him from the side. Luis whistled loudly enough to break eardrums, and Evan winced before he ducked his head in embarrassment.
His first clear thought was,Christ. His second was that he needed to start figuring out reasons not to participate in every optional event during All-Star week. He knew he was supposed to be happy. This was the kind of thing kids dreamed about and people remembered when looking back at a career. It was proof that the fans saw what you were doing, even those from otherteams. It was proof that you mattered in the league, and Evan hated every minute of it.
He gave a quick nod because he had to respond somehow, and he was pretty sure no one would appreciate the reaction he wanted to give.
Reyes continued when the room quieted. “Hartman.”
Evan’s eyes flew up as the volume in the room rose again and CJ pointed at himself with fake shock all over his face. Then he threw both arms up in the air in celebration as athletic tape flew at him from across the room before he bowed deeply. Evan couldn’t help but grin at how ecstatic CJ looked, even if this was his fifth time being voted in.
“Rizzo.”
Evan shook his head with a smile as Rizzo dropped to one knee and pointed skyward.
“And finally, Mason Keller.”
The room went dead silent for half a second and Mason froze where he stood, one hand still halfway inside his stall like he’d been reaching for something. He blinked once, then again, like maybe he’d heard wrong, and he stared at Reyes in open disbelief. Then the room erupted in shouts and cheers. Not the teasing kind of celebration Evan, CJ, and Rizzo had gotten. This was immediate and wholehearted, the kind reserved for celebrating something that was a long time coming.
Luis Alvarez didn’t bother with words. He launched himself at Mason hard enough to drive them both backward three full steps, arms locked around him in a hug that lifted Mason off the floor. Mason let out a startled laugh, bracing a hand on Luis’s shoulder to stay upright.
“About damn time!” Luis shouted in Mason’s face.
Mason shoved at him weakly, still laughing. “Get off me, man.”
“Never,” Luis declared, and he pulled Mason in for another hug.
Around them, more players crowded in and hands slapped Mason’s back and shoulders from every direction. Mason dropped his head for a second, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck in that way he did when unwanted attention found him. His face had gone red, and he looked overwhelmed. Evan knew how he felt.
Coach Reyes cleared his throat and folded the paper before shoving it in his back pocket.
“Congratulations,” he said flatly. “The four of you have media to do before you leave today. If any of you become insufferable about this”—he paused to stare at Rizzo—“I’ll make sure your week gets worse.”
As soon as he walked out, the room detonated again. Evan exhaled slowly through his nose and turned to his locker to get dressed, hoping everyone would forget he existed. No such luck, and he turned at the sound of his name. CJ crossed the room in three long strides, his grin huge and bright enough to light the whole clubhouse. He reached for Evan on instinct, hands catching briefly at his shoulders before Evan’s body tightened up. CJ felt it immediately and stepped back just as fast, turning the motion into a quick slap to Evan’s upper arm.
“All-Star,” CJ said.
The word sounded almost nice coming from CJ’s mouth, and Evan looked at him with a smile. He couldn’t even pretend that the sight of CJ happy didn’t soften something inside him.
“You too.”
For a moment, CJ’s smile transformed into something smaller and private, meant just for him and filled with the promise of their own celebration later. “Yeah,” he said quietly.
In that second, Evan almost forgot that he hated everything coming. Then Rizzo launched himself onto their backs, singingsome song from the nineties about all-stars, and the moment shattered. Reporters would want quotes, the league would want him to make appearances, and the team’s social media admin would turn everything into graphics and polls and ranking lists, if they hadn’t already.
Perfect.
By the time he escaped the stadium a few hours later, the excitement radiating off everyone around him had only ratcheted up his irritation. He’d done the media scrum, had endured congratulations from every staff member he came across, and been reminded three times to check in with Player Services for his travel arrangements. He drove home with the radio off and the windows up, grinding his teeth so hard his jaw hurt.
The quiet inside his condo was welcome, and he dropped his keys in the bowl by the door, changed into sweatpants and an old T-shirt, and started chopping vegetables for dinner to give his hands something to do. He cut the broccoli, zucchini, and yellow squash into bite-size chunks, then sliced the bell peppers and onions before tossing all of them with olive oil and garlic and spreading the mixture on a sheet pan.
