Page 31 of The Way We Swing

“Good. Easton and Gavin have breakfast ready.”

“Sweet. What did they make?”

“Bacon and eggs.”

“What type of eggs?”

“Does it really matter, man?”

“Not at all,” he said, looking up from his phone. “Did you and Easton have fun last night?” He didn’t wink, but it was in his voice.

My face lit up red, though I pretended it didn’t. “Not bad. We just played on the N64.”

“Sounds like you guys are having fun together.”

“We are. Now get out of bed and come eat,” I said, leaving the room as quickly as possible. It wasn’t the first time I had gotten the feeling that Zach knew my feelings for Easton.

Euphoria still buzzed under my skin. I kept thinking about the way Easton looked at me last night—like he couldn’t help it, like I was the only thing in the room. That quiet sound he’d made, like a breath pulled from somewhere deep, had etched itself into my memory. I’d made him feel something real, and in that moment, it had felt like more than enough. It had felt like everything.

I wanted to tell the world what we had done last night. Still, it wasn’t worth the risk—the risk of what my family would say, of what my teammates would do.

But for the first time, I was thinking the reward might be worth it.

CHAPTER 12

The Durango’s engine hummed as I rolled into Easton’s grandparents’ driveway. Those damn gnomes remained clustered like a tiny judgmental jury. I looked away.

“Morning,” Easton said, climbing into the back seat and bumping fists with Gavin.

“You ready for the first day?” Zach asked, stretching his legs out in the passenger seat as I eased onto the road.

I caught Easton’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He wore the white polo he’d bought on Saturday—the one I’d whispered looked cute on him, which had made his ears turn pink.

He caught me staring. His lips twitched as though he fought back a smile, and—

“Tanner, the road!” Zach barked.

I jolted, yanked the wheel, and slammed the brakes at the last moment.

“Jesus, man,” Zach muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Quit looking at Easton and drive.”

Somehow, I got us to school in one piece. Gavin peeled off toward the junior high, and the rest of us split for our lockers.

“Howdy, Captain Quinn,” Ricky said as he played with his combination lock. His last name was Reed, which meant his locker stood right next to mine.

“Stop calling me that,” I said, throwing my bookbag in my locker. “We’re not even at the field, dude, and it’s dumb.”

“Never going to happen, Captain,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, yanked my spiral notebook from the top shelf, and followed him into math. We took seats in the back row. The new-school-year smell was everywhere today. I could never nail what exactly that smell was, but day one always had it.

“Glad we got you away from your boyfriend,” Ricky said, shoving his glasses up his nose.

“What?” The word came out too fast, too sharp. My spine stiffened against the rubber chair, and the room nearly silenced. The scratch of a pencil two rows over sounded sharp and accusing. I stared straight ahead, pretending to be oblivious, but every breath felt like it might give me away.

“You weren’t around as much this summer. You were always with Easton.”

“We just hit a bunch,” I said, barely trusting my voice. “We always invited you, too.”