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He shrugs, stuffing the banana into his pocket. “Hey, sometimes the best therapy is bad snacks and bushes.”
I don’t know what I’d do without Fork Guy.
We step out into the open, the sun breaking through the clouds, campus noise swirling around us like nothing happened. Jaxon is long gone, and maybe that’s okay for now. My heart still aches, but it beats a little steadier.
Fork Guy tosses me a crooked grin, like he knows some secret about getting through the day. I clutch my plastic fork with a weird sort of pride.
Maybe healing isn’t about giant leaps. Maybe it’s banana snacks, ridiculous friends, duct-taped hearts, and surviving another day—one messy inning at a time.
I take a breath, deeper than before, and let campus life sweep me forward. Whatever comes next—super regionals, awkward run-ins, old heartbreaks—I’m still here.
I’m still in the lineup.
And for today, that’s enough.
CHAPTER 31
FASTBALL
CAMDYN
A pitch thrown at the fastest possible speed.
Ever have those moments where you think, “Yeah, I’m finally getting over it, yay meeee,” and then the universe sucker-punches you right back into your trauma? That’s me—crammed into an airplane, clutching my water cup like it’ll protect me, pretending not to spiral with a bag of pretzels.
Brynn’s next to me, chewing her nails like she can bite away the last inning. She keeps glancing over, and it’s not because we lost to Penn State or our standings dropped. Super Regionals are looming. Judging by her bouncing leg, I’m not the only one with a stomach full of static. Our last home game is this week—if we win, we clinch the playoff spot.
About two hours into the flight, Brynn finally turns, voice barely above a whisper. “I need to… talk to you.”
Five words that never mean anything good. If she says she’s dating Jaxon, I’ll make a dramatic exit through the emergency door. “Okay,” I mumble, bracing myself.
Brynn hesitates, then blurts, “I might have accidentally led Inez to think you had a miscarriage when she was writing that blog thing.”
My brain just stops. My heart leaps out of my chest, does a jig on the disgusting airplane carpet, and leaves me behind.
I stare, waiting for the punchline. It doesn’t come.
I sip my water to keep from screaming. Then again, as if hydration can cure betrayal. It can’t.
Finally, I choke out, “What?” My voice sounds far away, echoing from the cargo hold. “Why?”
Brynn shrinks, shoulders curling in, eyes glistening. “I didn’t mean to,” she says, voice wobbling. “I told her about that game, the one where you were bleeding and got pulled. I guess she… assumed.”
“She just assumed?” I manage, my voice a whisper-shout. A few teammates turn, probably hoping for in-flight drama. Now I know why Brynn’s been so twitchy since the blog post dropped. “What did you say to her?” My hands are shaking—I can’t even tell if it’s anger or adrenaline.
“I just… I said you and Jaxon broke up, and you left the game bleeding. That’s it, I swear.” She’s crying now, dabbing her face with her sleeve. “I didn’t think she’d write that. I didn’t even know she had a blog.”
My laugh comes out sharp and hollow. “She’s a journalism major. She interviewed the team. What did you think she was doing, a crossword puzzle? Of course she’d mention me.”
She reaches for my arm, and I jerk away like she’s on fire. “Listen, I’m sorry, but you don’t have to get all mad at me,” she stammers through tears.
Is she serious? Am I being punked? “I’ll get as mad as I want, Brynn,” I snap, my words cold as the ice cubes rattling in my cup. “You betrayed me for a story.”
She winces, the words hitting her like a wild pitch. “I’m sorry. But Inez took the post down after Jaxon freaked out on her.”
“Jesus, stop saying you’re sorry!” Then I process what she said. I’d figured Jaxon talked to her, but freaked out? “Wait—what?”
Brynn nods, sniffling. “He stormed into our dorm, threw her laptop at the wall. There was a hole. Campus security came. She said it was a misunderstanding but King and Jameson had to step in to get him to leave.”