Page 13 of Left Field Love


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At least, I think he did.

I’m waiting for the punchline.

But it doesn’t come. “I have a busy schedule. You’d have to work around it.”

Caleb doesn’t hide his grin, and I know it’s because he thinks I’m just continuing to be difficult. I keep to myself. Aside from the paper, I’m not involved in any school activities. Honestly, I’m shocked Caleb even knew I’m on the paper.

“You’ve got a busy schedule?” He scoffs. “Okay, fine. When do you want to meet?

“Tomorrow at five thirty,” I reply promptly. Meaning I’ll have to get up at…yeah, not thinking about that.

“In the morning?” Caleb lets out a laugh of disbelief.

“Yes. That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.” I smirk, certain he’ll leave it.

But I underestimated Caleb’s stubbornness. Or his dedication to torturing me. Or maybe both.

“Fine.”

I study him for a moment, testing his resolve. He doesn’t waver.

“Fine,” I finally retort. “I’ll meet you here.”

“Here?” Caleb glances at the baseball field.

“Don’t be late.” I spin around and walk away, silently seething. I thought Caleb would back down after teasing me a little. There’s no way heactuallywants me to interview him. It will be torture for the both of us.

My annoyance lasts for the short walk from the baseball field to the gymnasium. The bleachers along the far wall are only half-full when I enter the gym. My ears begin ringing from the sound of rubber soles squeaking against the varnished floor. The pungent, unpleasant scent of sweat burns my nostrils.

Cassie is easy to spot among the couple dozen spectators. She’s the only person not paying any attention to the game. At least until I take a seat on the wooden bleachers beside her. Cassie finally glances up; first at the game, and then over at me.

“Hey,” she greets. “What took you so long? The game’s practically over.”

“I got held up at the paper,” I explain, which is partially true. I don’t elaborate any further than that, although I know Cassie, along with the rest of the school, will eventually hear about my latest assignment. I’m still holding out hope the interview will get derailed. Caleb showing up on time tomorrow morning seems unlikely. “Surprised you noticed I wasn’t here,” I tease. “You looked invested in the game.”

Cassie makes a face. “Basketball was big at my old school,” she tells me. “Not so much here, I guess?” She nods toward the small, unenthusiastic crowd.

“I don’t really follow the sports scene,” I remind her. “But if I had to guess, I’d say your best bet for a big crowd is a baseball game.”

“Yeah, I probably should have figured that out.” Cassie looks at me thoughtfully. “Because of your English partner, right?”

I grimace at the curiosity in her voice. There were times I would go days—weeks, even—without having to think or hear about Caleb Winters. How I’ve suddenly gone from that to frequent reminders he exists is irritating.

“Right,” I confirm. Baseball has always been big in Landry, but Caleb certainly hasn’t impeded its popularity. Far from it. Despite the rock I’ve tried to shove myself under when it comes to him, I know he’s racked up an impressive number of athletic accolades in the sport.

The basketball game ends ten minutes later, with Landry winning handily. Cassie and I filter into the lobby with the few other attendees.

We’re heading toward the front doors of the sports complex when Cassie pauses and nods to our right. “I’m going to run to the restroom. Do you mind waiting?”

“No problem,” I respond, stopping and leaning against the cinderblock wall. “I’ll be here.”

Cassie flashes me a grateful glance before disappearing into the lobby’s bathroom. I’m studying some of the shiny trophies on display when I hear a male voice say my name.

I turn to see Will Masterson, my freshman year lab partner, looking at me with surprise. He’s still wearing his basketball uniform from the game.

“Hi, Will,” I greet. I could count on one hand the number of conversations we’ve had since sharing a blacktop table freshman year. Not for lack of trying on Will’s part. He always says hi to me in the halls or waves from a distance. He’s one of those rare people who is genuinely nice.

Every conversation we have, I feel like I have to carefully consider each word I say, worried some snark or sarcasm will slip through and reveal my cynicism.

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