Page 41 of The Way We Swing Back

“Mom, I’m nineteen. What are you talking about? And I’ve been dating Cal for a year.”

“Yes, and Easton is still in high school. You aren’t. You’re a coach now. People will talk if they find out the two of you shared a hotel room.”

“Good lord, Mom. Easton’s eighteen and spends every waking moment at this house, and I have an apartment twenty minutes away. Do you think if we wanted to have sex, we’d wait until we were in a hotel with Gavin?”

Memories of the first time I’d gone down on Tanner spiked into my brain. I didn’t think my face could turn a deeper shade of red, the heat in my body at record levels. I sipped from the bottle of water in my hand, wanting to be anywhere but in this room.

“It's not my opinion I'm worried about. Are you comfortable with this, Easton?”

Comfortable with what? Going to a baseball tournament? The line of questioning shook me so much my thoughts twisted; nothing coherent could escape the turbulence.

“Really? Is he comfortable? He had the idea!” Tanner said, standing. “I’m done with this. Please let us know what you decide, but don’t base it off of the fact you twisted the idea into me having a plan to bone Easton. I just want to hang with Gavin before I go back to school.”

What in the world was going on? I scattered after Tanner, the heat still sprinting up my neck, knowing nothing could be more awkward than sitting in a room with those two as they contemplated Tanner “boning” me.

Mrs. Quinn eventually relented, but I wasn’t able to look her in the eyes for days. The sting of her accusation hung everywhere I went in the house; I couldn’t escape the thought that she saw the part of me only Tanner truly knew.

The Perfect Game showcase was a no-holds-barred event, even for a bunch of fifteen-year-olds. Tanner and I sat in the stands the entire day, eating a bag of popcorn between us, our fingers getting sticky from the butter catching onto our sweat.

Radar guns were everywhere, as were scouts scratching notes. One of the guys Gavin had to bat against even hit eighty-eight miles per hour, a speed he’d never seen before.

Gavin walked off the field with the bag for his catcher’s gear dragging on the ground. His fists were clenched around the strap, and his head hung, his hat barely staying on.

“Tough day,” Tanner said when Gavin got to us, no longer mincing words for him.

We walked out of the stadium and to the Durango, and Gavin slammed his bag into the trunk hard enough to rattle the car before sliding into the backseat.

“Tough day?” he said, his voice crackling with anger. “I was overmatched in every at-bat. On every pitch. I couldn’t catch up to a fastball and swung over every breaking ball.” His fists balled in his lap, his face was red, and his chest heaved. “I don’t deserve to be on the field with these guys.”

I looked at Tanner, raising my eyebrows, trying to figure out if he would take the lead with Gavin’s depressed spiral or if it was my turn.

When Tanner didn’t start, I went slowly, deciding the route he needed as I spoke. “Gavin,” I said.

“What?” he snapped, his face turned to the window, hiding his eyes.

“Do you want to be an asshole to me, or do you want to talk?”

“Can I be an asshole for, like, one minute?”

“Sure.”

“Your voice is annoying as hell, and you have the most punchable face I’ve ever seen.”

I snorted as I stared back at him, noting a small smirk creeping onto his face. “Got that out of your system, kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you see the size of everybody else on the field today?”

“Not really, I focused on the game.”

“Well, every single player was still a head taller than you. And nearly all of them had at least twenty pounds on you. You turned fifteen, like, a month ago.”

“So fucking what? I need to be better.”

“You’re at a stupid stage where you’re still growing. Most of these guys are as big as they’ll be when they’re adults. Sucks you aren’t. But when you finish, you’re going to be better than Tanner or me.”

“Do you really think so?”