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“Yeah, you can guess how well that conversation went. She told me that he was from a good family and that I should look past this ‘small indiscretion’ because it’s a miracle he wanted to go out with me in the first place.”
I gasp. I’ve always thought Mel’s mom was a bitch, but I never thought she would stoop so low as to say something like that to her daughter. Especially after what she just told me.
“Can you believe that? He fucking sexually assaults me and they want me to keep seeing him, like he’s going to be the next president of the United States.”
We’re silent for a few minutes before I break it. “Why didn’t you call me?” I ask, rubbing circles on her back, letting her know that I’m not mad, just confused.
“I was ashamed. I always put on this front that I don’t take shit from anyone, and I didn’t want you to think less of me.”
What the actual fuck.
“For Christ’s sake, Mel, I’m your best friend. You’ve seen me at my worst and haven’t run away screaming, so what would make you think that I would? Am I that bad of a friend?” I’m trying not to be offended or make this conversation about me, but that hurt.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Harper. I know it was stupid and I wish I could go back and call you, but I can’t. I just wanted to forget everything that happened but…” She stops, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her texts. I get that sinking feeling back in my stomach, knowing there’s more. “When I told my mother I wasn’t going out with him anymore, or any other guy she deems appropriate, she freaked out. I told her I wanted to be in control of my own life and that what happened was the last straw.”
“Good for you, babe, you’ve been waiting for ages to tell her to go fuck herself.”
Her sad smile has me preparing for the worst.
“It felt good to say it in the moment, and you’re right, I’ve waited a long time to say all that to her. But then I got to work yesterday and saw this.” She holds up her phone and there’s a picture of an eviction notice taped to her dance studio’s front door.
“What the fuck?” I mutter as Mel starts to cry again.
“That’s exactly what I said when I saw it,” she says through her tears. “Apparently my mother has rescinded her offer to help me start my own studio, and when I asked her about it, she told me I would get it back once I come to my senses and obey her like a good daughter.” Shit. The studio means the world to Mel, and for it to be taken away with the snap of her mother’s fingers has to be devastating.
“We’ll figure something out, I promise.” I don’t know what I’m promising but I know I will do everything in my power to make sure Mel’s dreams don’t die by the hand of that vile woman.
6
Josh
Road trips have never been my favorite part of being pro. To be honest, if I could stay in one place all year I would, but when you sign up for this, you know it’s something you have to handle with a smile on your face.
“You okay?” Will asks as I stare out the window of the team’s plane. I look in his direction, seeing T.J. sitting across the aisle looking over at us with a self-centered smirk on his face.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I mutter, trying my best to ignore the fact that all I want to do is punch that idiot in the face. He’s a rookie, he came up from the minors and ever since he set foot on our field, he thinks he owns the joint. Most of the guys hate him, some find him entertaining with a small portion who actually like the douchebag.
“Are you missing your girlfriend, Anderson? You so whipped you can’t go a week without seeing her?” he asks.
I roll my eyes, knowing exactly what he’s doing and clenching my fists at my sides. It’s known throughout the league, and especially within the team, that wives and girlfriends are a no-go when it comes to ribbing. Cleat chasers are a different story since they throw themselves at us like we’re presents underneath a Christmas tree. So at the mention of Harper, my hackles go up but before I have a chance to say something, Will does it for me.
“Shut it, Taylor, you think you’re all that ‘cause you just got called up to the big leagues? Stay in your fucking lane,” Will mutters, turning back toward me as T.J. goes back to reading the magazine in front of him.
“I know I’m not supposed to hate on the rookies, but he makes it incredibly hard,” I admit as Will chuckles, sitting back in his seat.
“Is he wrong?”
I glance over, making sure T.J. isn’t listening when I nod slightly.
“As much as I hate to admit it. I do miss her.” Thinking of Harper sends a weightless feeling through my chest and when I take a breath, I close my eyes and lay my head back against the headrest. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, and I know our lifestyle isn’t really conducive to an atmosphere that helps serious relationships but she’s different, man. She knows this business, she’s been around it all her life and she gets it, you know?”
He nods, understanding that what I’m describing is what all of us want in a partner. Obviously, there are those like King who thrive on how much pussy they can get and where, but for me, it’s never about that. I’ve always wanted that one person to come home to, kids running around and a family to miss while I’m away.
“I’m happy for you, man.” Will gives me a sly smile before he goes back to looking at something on his phone. I do the same until I overhear a conversation that sets my teeth on edge.
“He thinks he’s the shit, but honestly, I’m here to take his spot, to prove that there are better players around.”
I know T.J. is talking about me. He’s an infielder, someone that can play multiple positions and something our team desperately needs, but I really wish it came from someone other than him.
