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I begrudgingly walk with Mackie, Trevor, and Nick to first period, both the boys peppering me with questions along the way. But I’m still over here like Jon Snow, knowing absolutely nothing. And I hate it.
Aaron
“Hey, Coach. You wanted to see me?”
I ask him like I don’t know why I’m here. He told me over the phone this morning. It’s about a scout. A scout from the college I want to go to—we all want to go to—is coming into town next month. He wasn’t able to make it in the fall—much to my relief—so, he wants to see me now.
Only problem is, my pitching is still not what it used to be. And that’s only throwing for a half hour. I have no idea how I’m going to last in an actual game. Or for a scout.
Coach goes over the details with me and asks how my hand is. I tell him it’s fine, even though I know it’s a lie. I barely made it through the essay questions on my English test last week.
Coach tells me what he wants me to work on and to see the trainer daily and then throwing after that.
I have no idea if it will help, but I have to hope.
Coach gives me a pass and sends me to first period, even though it’s nearly over.
I waste time and duck in at the end of class—just enough time left to not do anything, but enough time that I won’t get busted for skipping class.
After that, I make my way to second period. I’m dragging my feet as I walk toward mylife skillsclass. I’m stuck in my own head.What the hell am I going to do if I can’t pitch decently for the scout? If I can’t get back to normal before the start of the season?
I huff out a sigh and walk through the classroom door right before the bell rings. It’s only then that I look up and see Rae staring at me intensely.
Jesus fuck. I didn’t tell her.I wanted to have this conversation in person, then Coach called this morning and I completely forgot.
I hurry over and slide into my chair, spinning to face her.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” she breathes. “You broke up with Caity?”
I wince, wishing I’d been the one to tell her. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I was going to bring you coffee this morning and tell you, but Coach called and—I’m sorry.”
She blinks a couple of times, then reaches out and squeezes my arm. Both of our gazes are drawn to my arm at the zap of electricity that comes from our skin touching.
“It’s okay.” She bites at her lip, then bounces a little, shifting in her seat. “I had a lot of coffee this morning, anyway.” Then she clears her throat, eyes moving rapidly.Fuck, she’s adorable.“But Aaron… Saturday night? Did you—was it because of—”
I squeeze her hand tightly, my eyes boring into hers. I’m not going to tell her it was because of our conversation, but I want her to know how important that conversation was. “It was time. It was never serious, anyway. It needed to be over.”
She stares into my eyes as intensely as I’m staring into hers, then squeezes my hand back. “Okay.” She relaxes and opens her mouth to say something else, but our teacher clears his throat and now we have to pay attention.
I attempt to focus on what he’s saying, but a second later, a piece of paper drops onto my desk. Opening it, I smile at the sight of her handwriting. It’s mostly cursive with lots of extra curves and flair. It looks like a physical manifestation of her thoughts.
Have plans with Mackie and Sarah tonight. So, double lunch at The Pit today? Just the two of us?
I quickly scribble a note back.
Of course. We haven’t had enough time together lately.
I swear to God, once I’ve dropped it back on her desk and she’s opened it, I can feel the warmth of her smile spreading around me.
Instead of dropping it over my shoulder, this time she reaches down and carefully pushes it into my hand. The feeling of her fingers brushing my palm shoots sparks through my veins and up my spine.
We definitely haven’t. I’ve missed you, Ace. XO (pay attention now lol)
Smiling to myself, I inhale deeply.
I’ve missed her, too.
