Page 6 of The Way We Swing

“Gavin told us there was a new baseball player hanging around here today. Where did you move from?”

“Originally from Ashland. My grandparents are from here, though, and I’m staying with them right now,” Easton said. He smiled, but it flickered as he glanced away.

Mom piped in, “You made quite an impression on Gavin this afternoon.”

“He’s a cool little dude,” Easton said.

“Well, as long as Gavin likes you,” she said, “you’re invited here anytime.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Quinn.”

“I told him he could spend the night,” Zach said.

“We’re on summer rules now. As long as you guys are asleep by one, we don’t care who spends the night.” She turned away, signaling she was done with the conversation.

“What position do you play?” Dad asked, turning to his favorite topic.

“He says he’s playing shortstop next year,” I said.

Easton blushed, popping his dimples. “You’re never letting that go, huh?”

“I’m making sure you know I’m up for the challenge,” I said.

“Competition is always good,” Dad said. “Loser can play second base.”

“That’s the only open spot for me,” Zach whined.

“Beat one of these two out,” Dad said.

Footsteps pounded the deck; I looked over at Gavin’s dripping wet body. “Easton, are you coming in again?” he said, his teeth chattering.

“Hi, Gavin, nice to see you, too,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I know I’m only your brother and everything.”

“Gonna shower first, if that’s okay,” Easton said. “Zach, can you show me where it’s at?”

Zach led him into the house, and I stayed on the porch, wishing I could switch places with Zach.

Dad and I talked baseball until Zach and Easton came back twenty minutes later. Easton wore a pair of American flag swimming trunks that looked a year (or two) old. I glanced away when I realized how long I’d been staring at the red, white, and blue.

Zach coughed out a laugh before jumping into the pool.

I cleaned myself up and joined the other three. The sun set in the distance beyond the row of pine trees behind our property, the heat less brutal than it had been during the afternoon. The smell of chlorine was now mixed with that of the coffee sitting next to Mom.

After an hour of swimming, my parents went to sleep, reminding everyone when to go to bed for the seventeenth time.

We headed to the basement, and I glanced around. Dad and my uncle had redone the entire bottom level last year—we had a pool table, an unstocked island bar, and it was the best place in the world for movies every Sunday with the family.

“This is awesome,” Easton said, eyes wide.

I nudged his shoulder. “You like it?”

“I love it.”

Gavin turned the TV on to a West Coast baseball game and hopped onto the couch. Easton walked over to the pool table and picked up a stick as Zach and I joined him. With a mock scowl, I snatched the stick from Easton. “Hands off Billy.”

“You named your pool stick Billy?” Easton said.

“You have an issue with my affection for an inanimate object?” The SAT prep work was affecting my vocabulary.