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Damn, this girl is busting my balls. She is not going to give me one fucking inch of wiggle room. Blowing out a breath, I finally word vomit, not sure if anything spewing from my mouth makes any fucking sense.
“Everything…anything, all of it?” That last bit sounds like a question. “Being late, Danica, Simeone, asking you to do my work for me and accusing you of fucking your roommates”—pausing briefly, I finish—“Uhm, did I miss anything?”
Kassidy blinks a couple of times, and my chest begins to burn as I hold my breath, waiting for her to react.
Her chin wobbles, followed by the shake of her shoulders. Immediately following, she starts to laugh.
My shoulders sag as my breath escapes my lungs. As my chest heaves, replacing the bad air with fresh air, I start coughing. My plight causes Kassidy to laugh harder.
Leaning against me as she laughs, my arm wraps around her back so she doesn’t fall off the bed.
We sit like that for several minutes as our laughter subsides. Unlike with other girls, sitting here with Kassidy tucked into my side seems like the most natural thing. There is no awkwardness.
My back is getting tight, so I start to shift my weight. Moving to put my back against the wall, with my feet dangling off the side, I grip Kassidy by the hips and tug her across the bed to me, causing her to squeal.
She takes several sips from her cup before leaning sideways to put the drink on my desk. With her hands now free, she wiggles up next to me, draping her arm across my waist. Without thought, my arm wraps around her back.
A calm settles into my chest. The feeling is a bit foreign but not unwelcome.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
“For what?” I question with a humorless laugh. “My stellar apology skills? Announcing to the entire campus that we are dating, making you the center of attention? Maybe dragging you to a frat party that you are obviously uncomfortable being at? How about my father and coach manipulating you so that you need to travel with the team in order for me to keep playing?” Huffing out, my words display my anger and frustration. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, since none of this is Kassidy’s fault. “It should be me thanking you. Apologizing for pulling you into the mess that is my life.”
“Mess? How do you figure that out?” she says in annoyance, lifting her head slightly in order to look me in the eye. “You are one of the most popular people on campus. The guys on campus envy you with the way girls fawn all over you. The girls want to get into your pants. You have a bright future ahead of you in major league baseball. So, yeah, forgive me if I don’t want to join in on your pity party.” Kassidy’s deadpan tone at the end of her little rant causes my lips to quirk up on one side.
Unable to stop myself, laughter bursts from my lips. Kassidy sits up, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring daggers at me because of my reaction. I guess that wasn’t supposed to befunny. Wiping the tears from my eyes, it takes a minute before I catch my breath enough to speak.
“Good grief, you are harsh on my ego.”
“I’m sorry?” she quips as her brows knit together.
“Nah,” I say, waving her off. “It’s nice for once not having everyone bow to my feet.”
Her brows wrinkle in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Tilting my head back to rest against the wall, I explain. “Baseball has always given me something to focus on. My early years were not the best. Even now, I don’t have the best relationship with my father.”
My chest tightens as my thoughts turn dark at the memories of my childhood. Shaking it off, I continue my explanation. “Anyway, one of my early coaches saw something in me. After some coaxing, he convinced my father to get me private lessons. From that point, my entire life became focused on the sport. All summer, I would bounce from one baseball camp to another. The lessons weren’t just focused around pitching either. I had batting lessons and also learned each position on the field. The theory was that if I completely understood every position, it would help me become a better pitcher.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of pressure.”
“It is. As I grew, lifting weights became part of my daily routine once I got into junior high. At that point, scholarships were coming in for me to attend private, more prestigious schools. When I started high school, things got worse. If I wasn’t in classes, I was in the gym or on the field. My father monitored everything I ate. Eventually, losing the battle with my father, I ended up getting pulled from public school. He signed the paperwork, and my sophomore year, I was in a new school on a scholarship that I didn’t need. Playing wasn’t bad, but the new school had an entirely new set of hurdles.
“Guys who had been the top dogs ended up in my shadow. The girls all wanted my attention. A few of the guys on the baseball team put up with me because they started winning. That first year, we came in second place in our division. The next two years, we took first place in our division. My junior year, we placed second in the state championship. Senior year, we won everything becoming state champs. Colleges started beating down my door, trying to get me to attend their school. Gifts would show up randomly at the house.
“My father became obsessed. He was meeting with recruiters, trying to get the best deal, playing one school off of the other. In the end, Groveton College showed up. While they didn’t offer the best benefits, they are prestigious enough to get attention, and it’s close to home.”
“Having all of those people fight over me is incomprehensible,” she says, a bit of awe in her voice.
“Yeah, it gets to be overwhelming at times,” I say with a sigh. “It gets difficult to tell who wants to know me for me versus who is just trying to brag that they are a friend.”
“Fighting off the rabid females can’t be easy either,” she chuckles out.
Bracing myself, I decide to toss something out there, needing to tell someone. “If I tell you something, would you promise to keep it between us?” This girl doesn’t care about what knowing me or being around me can do for her. I feel like I can be me and relax around her. Kassidy isn’t fake.
“Yeah,” she replies warily. “If it is that important though, are you sure you want to tell me?”
“I need to tell someone. You already know more about me than most people do.” Waging an internal debate of how smart it is to put this out there, I decide to throw caution to the wind. “I a-am a virgin.”
