Page 45 of Breakout Year

Akiva

It was only midafternoon by the time they got done at the park.

Once the crowd had thinned, Isabel went over to Eitan and showed him the screen of her camera.

“Send me that one,” he said about a photo and another and another, until she offered to put all of them in a folder and let Eitan take his pick.

Nearby, a few kids were still playing catch. What Akiva would have done at that age—played catch, peppered any pro player with questions, or just lay on the scrubby grass of the field and dreamed about playing in a big-league park.

Once, Sue had told him that the most important part of a book wasn’t solving the actual crime or finding a long-lost artifact.

No, it was a series of introductions and goodbyes as characters became their future selves.

He’d said goodbye to his career, then his parents’ house, then finally to those last lingering wisps of childhood, the ones that clung until you realized that whatever situation you found yourself in, you were the one responsible for getting yourself out.

He’d said goodbye and goodbye and goodbye.

Now, here, he wondered what the next week might bring.

The next month. Or would he have to say goodbye to Eitan again?

Eitan bounced up to the picnic table Akiva was sitting on, forcefully enough that Akiva tsked.

“My ankle is fine,” Eitan said. “Better than fine. Rested .”

“You should probably rest it more. Get off your feet.”

“I promise I’m being careful. Tomorrow will be easier on my ankle.” He extended a hand, nominally to help Akiva down.

The same little touches he’d been doing all day—a hand at Akiva’s shoulder or at the line of his waist or the curve of their palms together. All perfectly platonic. A selfish part of Akiva wanted to go to Eitan’s apartment. To get him off his feet through the simple action of tossing him into bed.

But Eitan had been right about this tour: all day people had come up to him and offered the invariable consensus that Goodwin should be suspended, fined, and possibly launched into space.

That the league was all a bunch of bums, and that Eitan had been standing on that base not just for his own pride, but for the pride of an entire city.

Another day would only help in this charm offensive.

“Where’s next on the tour?” Akiva asked, at the same time that Isabel frowned.

“I thought we were only doing the center and the park,” she said.

Eitan turned several colors. “Well, that was more a plan for Akiva and me.”

Isabel raised her eyebrows. “You all gonna stay out of trouble?”

“Do you want me to answer that?” Eitan asked.

“No, not really.”

“Thank you for doing all of this,” Eitan said to her. “I’d get you more fruit, but I feel like you’re getting sick of fruit.”

She looked around at the park. “I grew up two neighborhoods over from here. Worked my ass off to land my dream job with my childhood baseball team. They took a chance on me—which I appreciated—but they were very clear that they were taking a chance on me…which didn’t feel great.

So I had to be perfect, ya know? Then for my first solo PR assignment, the player decides to go rogue at his press conference. ”

Eitan went ashen under his summer tan. “Oh my god, I didn’t know.”

“Most guys who’re only here for a few months just treat the city like it’s an amusement park,” Isabel said. “They wouldn’t bother doing any of this. So, fruit’s great, but this is better.” And she waved goodbye and left them standing in the autumn sunlight.

“So,” Eitan said, “if I tell you that I have a plan for tomorrow, will you trust that plan?”

“Asking me that makes me not trust that plan already.”

“There’s an itinerary. You seem like you like itineraries.”

Akiva did like itineraries, albeit ones he made himself and double-checked half a dozen times to make sure they were right. He could probably go with the flow as long as the flow had backup plans. “Okay.”

“Great, that’s settled.” Eitan grinned. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

“Do we need to change?” Because Eitan was still in workout gear—leggings and shorts and a sweatshirt—and Akiva’s jeans had grass smears on them.

“No, I like you as-is,” Eitan said and laughed when Akiva shot him a look. “But yeah, we should probably head home.”

So Akiva un-pocketed the keys and beeped the fob to remind himself where they’d parked. Walked to the car and ignored how Eitan had referred to a place they were both staying as home .