“What the hell did he want?”
“To apologize.”
She raises a perfectly threaded brow. “For not having the below-deck bits to break up with you in person?”
“For flipping out on me this morning.”
“What’d he do?” Ryan asks, brotherly discord clouding the dark angles of his suddenly mannish face.
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Just wasn’t happy to see me. But he’s over it now.”
Addie isn’t buying it. “Uh-huh.”
Honestly, I don’t really buy it either. But I’m willing to make an effort because he did.
The boys get in the car but Addie stops me at the driver’s side door. “You’re seriously okay with Jake?”
“You know I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”
Addie silently reads my face, like she reads the field before trying to blast through the gap. Then she cocks a brow. “Grey’s number sixteen, isn’t he?”
My face grows hot. “How’d you know?”
Under that raised brow, her eyes go mischievous. “He couldn’t stop looking at you.”
9
THE AFTERNOON SCENE AS I EXIT THE LOCKER ROOMalone is much different from earlier today. Most of the boys are already out on the field, running laps. No one’s interested in trying me after what happened to Jake this morning.
The sun is heavy, the heat wet and strong and hovering around a hundred yet again. Already sore from the morning, I start toward the field, sweat immediately beading on my forehead.
The locker room door slams behind me a second time. More out of curiosity than anything else, because I thought I’d been alone, I turn and see a flash of red ponytail.
“Cleary.”
“Rodinsky.”
I actually smile at her, because I truly don’t want to start off on the wrong foot with anyone else. Even the girl who left a massive, softball-size bruise on my back. “How’s it going?”
Kelly balks, surprised at such a soft opening pitch. Not that I blame her. Still, she goes on the offensive, like I slapped her instead of smiled. “Save your breath, Liv. I have zero interest in being your friend.”
I blink. “Um—”
“And before you ask—if you’re dumb enough to think I’d give up my nights and weekends to spy for Coach Kitt, I’m not. I’ve been a manager here for two years.”
“I didn’t think that you were spying on me,” I tell her. “Why would I think that?” I take in her stance—the crossed arms, squared shoulders, jaw set—and realize that whatever’s there has been building all day. And suddenly, everything clicks. “You’re wondering why they didn’t scout you.”
“Of course I am. I’m a pitcher, not athird baseman.” She says it like my position is inferior, even though we save the heroes on the mound from themselves all the time. “I should be a more natural choice thanyou. Heck, half of our shitty baseball team would be a more natural choice than you.”
Which is true—but I’m not looking this gift horse in the mouth.
“Cleary, look—” She resumes stomping toward the practice field. “Kelly.” Her chin dips in my direction. “I don’t know why I got scouted over you. But if you want to go out for quarterback, no one is stopping you.”
“Someone is most definitely stopping me.” She halts and I pull up short to avoid smacking my chest pad straight into her shoulder. “Coach Kitt would never let someone as valuable as her star pitcher play football. I get hurt, there go the team’s chances.” She raises a finger and stabs me in the chest, right astride the padding. “Ifyouget hurt, it doesn’t affect the team one bit. You’re not a part of our team, and you never will be.”
Coach Kitt said itmightchange, and I’ve got hope in that might. “I’ve already talked with Coach Kitt, and she understands my potential value.”
She laughs. “We all understand yourvalue, believe me.” Cat eyes narrowed, Kelly swipes her claws. “Paid to play in high school? Yeah, everyone understands yourvalue.”
