Page 6

TUCKER

A fter yesterday’s blow-up, everyone was on edge—some of us even suspicious. Cael was known for being friendly even when he shouldn’t be, but there was something about the way he had approached Josh and then chased him down after being punched.

There were secrets cracking down the center of the Hornets, ones that had the potential to screw our season. After a disgusting breakfast of lumpy oatmeal made by Todd and Jensen, everyone started packing their things for the two-night canoe trip.

Arlo, Ella, Silas, and other coaches who made the trip would be staying behind. The canoe trip was for players only . The idea of being self-governed in the woods was terrifying—especially when half the team wanted Josh roasted over a fire.

Cael, with all his secrets, managed to talk Josh into sticking around, but I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing. We needed a pitcher; our backups were worth nothing, and every time one of them touched the field, even for relief, we ended up making up for it later in the game.

We needed Josh Logan, and it pissed me off.

“You’re steaming from the ears, big boy.” Cael’s voice came from behind me. “Why so tense?”

“This canoe trip is going to end in blood.” I cleared my throat.

“I think that's just the theme of spring camp.” He laughed. Usually, the sound would ease the tension between my shoulders, but today, it only made everything worse.

“How did you convince him to stay anyway?” I asked, turning to look at him with his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie. The bruise on his jaw from where he was punched was festering an ugly, deep purple color.

“We made out for a while, and then I promised him a canoe blow job.” Cael smiled.

“Don’t be an idiot,” I pushed him, “or I’ll call Clementine right now.”

“She’d be into it.” He sighed, but I could tell he was missing her by the way his words trailed off at the end. “Although she's into big, dumb, blonds. Josh isn’t really her type.” He smacked his hand against my chest.

“Be serious with me. How’d you do it?” I asked him again in a lower tone.

“Josh is my NA sponsor,” Cael admitted.

I hadn’t seen that coming, and it was written all over my face because Cael started to laugh again.

“I had the same reaction at first,” he said quietly. “It worked though. He’s not as bad as he makes himself seem. The egomaniac personality? The aggression? It’s a defense tactic. Just give him some space to adjust.”

“Adjust?” I sighed. We didn’t have time for that.

“He’s not used to this…” Cael said it like I should understand.

“Used to what, Cael? Stop talking like Yoda.”

“That's not…” He started and stopped. “Family. He’s not used to people looking out for him. He thinks we’re a cult.”

“What?” I couldn’t help the shocked laughter that bubbled from me.

“Not seriously, but it’s a decent way to describe how he sees the team. Our relationships,” Cael said as Van walked past us and tossed him a sleeping bag. “I don’t know much about his life, when we had meetings I usually talked the whole time.”

That sounded like Cael.

“So you don’t know a single thing about him,” I grumbled, sniffling a little as the cold air bit into my skin and ran a chill over my body.

“Even if I knew, it’s not my story to tell. You’re just going to have to get to know him…” Cael nodded to where Josh crouched on the soft grass loading food into crates as Arlo dropped them at his feet in silence. He looked smaller than usual in a too-big sweater and sweatpants that hugged his athletic thighs.

In quiet moments I thought maybe I could find him attractive. With his dark curls and scruffy jaw that’s always so tense, but then he turned those dark brown eyes on me and a chill ran down my spine.

“Cael,” I said as he went to walk away, my fingers reaching out and tangling into the fabric to stop him.

“What?” He asked, turning back to look at me.

“Did he help you? You know, with everything?” I asked.

Unspoken words—doubt…guilt. Did he help you in ways I couldn’t?

“Recovery sucks and I’m really lucky to have you all around me, cheering me on even when I don’t deserve it,” he said. “But I needed balance, and someone to tell me when I was being an asshole. Josh did that for me when no one else could look me in the eye.”

I nodded, understanding what he was saying even though it made me feel like shit.

“I’ll try,” I said with a huff. “If that’s what you think I should do, I’ll try.”

“That’s my boy.” Cael lifted his hand and clapped it gently against my face. “You should probably bring one of the satellite phones just in case…” He looked around at the team and grimaced. “Because you’re right about one thing; this is going to end in bloodshed.”

I swallowed tightly, pushing down the anxiety that crawled up my throat as I moved through the different groups double checking their supplies with them.

Silas came down from the camp office with a clipboard in his hands. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “Shit, it’s cold out.”

“What’s this?” I looked down at the papers.

“Emergency numbers, a few first aid things, and canoe safety.” Silas pointed at the stuff without looking down from the field. His eyes scanned the players, until they landed on Josh.

“What’s the story there?” I asked him. If anyone knew anything about why Josh Logan came to play for us, it was Silas. He always knew everything before we did.

“He just transferred,” he said tightly, which was a partial truth but I wanted more than what they were telling the team and press.

“Why did he transfer?” I pushed, tucking the board under my arm.

“He—” Silas stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “There was an incident at Lorette. A couple of guys got into it and Josh took the worst of the punishment. He got expelled.”

“No school, no baseball.” I looked over my shoulder at Josh.

“Coach found out and we needed a pitcher,” Silas said, causing me to turn back and look at him.

“Coach barely tolerates it when we step out of line and he invites a volatile unchecked pitcher to join the team with no conditions?” I asked, curious as to how Silas would navigate the question.

I wasn’t an idiot.

The guys loved to pretend I was just because I was slow on pop culture references and confused easily when they talked too fast. I wasn’t dumb. I had one of the highest GPAs on the team. The problem was when everyone else was experiencing childhood, I was in the backyard hitting balls. I was at practice, I was running drills. I’d never been giving a moment to breathe between all of it, all that mattered was baseball and family dinners.

Family dinners where I had been subjected to my mom’s sickening speeches about people she barely knew and how she couldn’t condone their lifestyle because it went against the church. Even though growing up we had been taught to be selfless and caring. To always help those in need. The hard line for my mother was helping people that held different views than her.

“There are conditions,” Silas said. “If he screws up spring camp, he’s gone.”

“Oh, cool, so we’re his probation period and this is just another test,” I grumbled.

“You’re doing good, Dean,” Silas said, patting my shoulder.

“There’s been two fights, I’m pretty sure we’re all going to get food poisoning with Todd on breakfast duty. And Josh punched Cael,” I scoffed. “I wouldn’t consider that a good job.”

“You’re trying,” he said. “That’s what matters. You could have taken one look at Logan and sent him home, but you let him get on the bus, you let him interact with the team. The exercise was good yesterday. Keep running it until they start talking.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” I asked him.

“It got them talking yesterday,” he said.

“It got them fighting.” I rolled my eyes.

“Fighting, talking—same thing with you guys,” Silas said with a laugh. “Just don’t give up on them, you’re doing it your way and it may not be conventional or even safe but it’s working. Look.” Silas nodded to the field.

Arlo had crouched beside Josh and was helping him reorganize a crate, which wouldn’t necessarily mean anything but they were talking… Arlo was smiling…

“He’s playing nice to help me.” I rolled my eyes again.

“When have you ever known Arlo to play nice?” He questioned.

“That guy has a smile that they dubbed the press smile,” I said.

“Dean, look at it, that’s not his press smile,” Silas argued. “That’s a genuine conversation.”

“Whatever you say, Doc,” I conceded.

“Have a fun canoe trip, Tucker. Try to bring them back in one piece?” Silas laughed as he climbed the stairs back to the office and shut the door behind him.