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She didn’t come home with us this weekend, but James and Bex are here, like they promised they would be for this announcement. Cooper, too, and Izzy. Even though I’d rather do anything else in the world than tell Richard and Sandra I’m quitting the sport they worked hard to keep me in all these years, it has to be now. I already started my letter to Commissioner Scofield, asking to be released from the draft pool, and I have to tell Zoe about it too. She sent me her draft of the article the other day, but I haven’t read it.
I keep telling myself that I don’t want to see how she wrote about my parents’ passing, and that’s part of it, but really, I’m dreading reading about what I said about Mia. I meant every word and I still do, but that just makes it worse.
Cooper clasps my shoulder as he sits across from me. We’re in the den, the room in the house with the comfiest couches and all the board games. I love this room; whenever I’m in it, I think of Monopoly on Christmas and late-night Mario Kart battles. Birthday cake and karaoke. Arguments and laughter, all jumbled together. This is the private family room, away from the magazine-ready space in the front of the house, and I have a decade of memories here.
When I told James and Cooper my plan, there was a split-second where I wanted to take it back. Not because I doubted myself and this path, but because I didn’t want to sever the bond between us. The Callahan boys, each an athlete, same as Richard. But their reaction bolstered me for this moment. I might be Jacob and Danielle Miller’s son, but I’m a Callahan. Not because of baseball, but because they’re the family who chose me, and I chose them back.
“How are you doing?” he asks.
I know he doesn’t just mean baseball. I shake my head. “Don’t know.”
“She still might come around.”
“I don’t think so.” I fiddle with the medallion, looking down at it instead of into my brother’s eyes. “I had a chance, and I blew it.”
“She’s scared. That might not last forever.”
“I love her.”
“I know,” he says softly.
“I thought… she loved me too. I thought we were forever.” I laugh. It’s a lonely, hollow sound. “I thought she’d be by my side for this.”
“We are,” James says, sitting down next to me on the couch. “We’ve got your back.”
“If Dad gives you a hard time, for even a moment,” Izzy says, plopping down on my other side, “I’ll show him the research. I have a slideshow handy if necessary. I even photoshopped you into a chef’s jacket.”
I’m honestly not sure if she’s joking. I shake my head again, pulling her into a sideways hug and kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.”
“And we’re talking about Mia after this,” she says. “She might be ignoring all my calls, but she’ll come around eventually. I can be very persuasive.”
“She called me the other day,” Bex says. “To apologize for leaving so suddenly.”
I blink. “You didn’t tell me that.”
She shrugs. “I think Penny gave her my number. She seems sweet, Seb. I’m sorry it’s not working out the way you wanted.”
“Yes,” Sandra says, walking into the living room with Richard. “Oh, sweetie, come here.”
Kiwi—who has apparently decided that Richard is his god—trots after them.
She pulls me into a hug, smelling of peppermint, and kisses my cheek for good measure. “What did you need to discuss with us? Is it about Mia?”
“No.” I take a deep breath. “It’s… it’s about baseball.”
“Did some pricks try photographing you again?” Richard demands. Kiwi jumps onto his lap, mouthing at the buttons on his shirt. He scolds him gently, and Kiwi looks at him in outrage for a moment before settling down.
I take another breath. I might need a whole breathing exercise to get through this. “No.”
“Is it missing out on the playoffs? It stings, but it happens,” Richard says. “You played well, I know you put your heart into it.”
“Honey,” Sandra says, “why don’t you let him talk?”
I sit up straighter. Cooper catches my eye, nodding.
I can do this.
“I’m quitting baseball,” I say in a rush. “I’m going to withdraw from the draft.”
