Page 49

Ollie’s eyes widen. He knows I’m pissed. “Nathan Rozo?”

My heart sinks. The crowd noise fades to a dull roar in my ears. “They’re dating?” I ask without looking his way. My face stays impassive, but they’d know if they saw my eyes. “Since when?”

“Well, I don’t know if they’re dating. They’ve been talking, though.”

Jealousy hits like ice water injected into my veins.

I hate it. Had she been seeing someone and didn’t tell me?

Scenarios flash through my head. Maybe she’s been talking to other guys this whole time.

Maybe she didn’t tell me because of the Inez thing.

Or maybe she likes this Nathan dude and doesn’t want me to know.

The thought of her hiding this from me, after everything we’ve shared, makes me want to punch something.

Ollie runs a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, man. They went out the other day. I know they’re talking.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat, tasting bile.

Talking? Cute. My DNA’s running down her legs most days. We ain’t the same.

Of course I don’t say that. I want to. The words sit bitter on my tongue.

I don’t want to admit it, but it pisses me off she went on a date.

And it makes me really fucking angry she’s been talking to someone.

I’m jealous in ways I can’t explain. What if she feels for him like she did for me?

What if she’s been quiet because of him?

What if… she doesn’t want us again? The thought of her smiling at him like she does at me makes my chest tight.

I’ll be honest. When I ended things with Camdyn, I still saw a future with her.

I always have. I needed time to be myself and focus on school and baseball.

But now that she’s talking to someone else, I don’t know what the future looks like and it scares me.

The worst part? She didn’t even tell me.

I told her about Inez, so why couldn’t she give me a heads-up?

We end up winning the game to take the series 2-1.

The six-hour bus ride back to Seattle stretches ahead of us like a prison sentence.

It’s past midnight, and most guys are passed out, headphones in, heads bobbing against windows.

The rain started somewhere past Portland, tapping out a rhythm that matches the dull throb in my broken nose.

Every bump we hit, pain shoots sharp through my face, reminding me it’s far from healed.

Kingston’s snoring like he’s trying to start a chainsaw.

Coach Lou’s up front watching film like we didn’t just finish playing.

Highway lights flash across faces in regular intervals, making everything feel like a weird dream.

I watch the headlights of passing cars, counting them like sheep, trying to ignore how each swallow feels like someone’s jabbing a knife into my sinuses.

The team trainer gave me more painkillers before we left, but they’re not doing shit.

After a minute-long assessment—he’s been staring at me longer than I like—Jameson drops into the seat next to me.

I’m still staring at my phone. No texts from Camdyn.

Just the blue light burning my eyes and the constant temptation to check her location.

A semi passes, spraying water across our window.

The windshield wipers keep time with my pulse, which I can feel pounding in my swollen face.

“Look.” Jameson’s still got eye black smeared on his face, looking like a raccoon who pitched nine innings. He squares his shoulders like he’s about to give me a life lesson. “If you see yourself being with her again, you need to do something before she gets serious about this joker.”

“Like what?” I mumble, watching the Oregon countryside blur past. My reflection in the window looks like shit—nose and eyes a mess of blues, greens and purples. “We agreed to see other people. It’s her choice.”

“Nah, man, it ain’t. But she’s not gonna wait around forever.”

I have to think about what he said, because I’m not sure what he means but it ain’t her choice. “I’m not expecting her to wait.”

“Doesn’t seem like that to me, since your mood changed when Ollie said she went on a date.”

He’s right. It did. I’m curious if she fucked him, and even the thought has my heart racing and my stomach twisted.

But I play it off and sit up straighter, shaking my head.

The bus hits a pothole and my nose reminds me it’s broken with a jolt of pain that makes my eyes water. “What are you talking about?”

He’s holding a bag of Skittles in one hand and a water bottle in the other. “I know when you’re in a mood. Something made you mad.”

“Whatever. How am I being moody?”

“Bitch, I live with you.” He opens the Skittles and tosses a few in his mouth, chewing before saying, “I know.”

“She don’t belong to me anymore, bro.” I shift in the seat and flip my phone over in my lap, my head against the seat. “She can date whoever she wants.”

“Mhm.” He tosses his water bottle to his bag with six empty Red Bulls and a pile of sunflower seed shells. He rolls his eyes. “I think you’re saying that, but it ain’t true.”

I stand, hunched under the low ceiling, and shoulder-check him.

“I hope you choke on your Skittles. Stop fucking talking.” The movement makes Kingston stir in the seat ahead, but he mutters something in Spanish and goes back to sleep.

The sudden movement makes my head spin, and I have to grab the seat to steady myself. These painkillers suck.

Yeah, I’m pissed she went out with another guy, but I can’t blame her.

It’s because of me she did. I'm not even sure I know what that means anymore. Somewhere in the blur of me avoiding reality, I might have lost her this time. For real. And that terrifies me more than one of Jameson’s hundred-and-four mile-per-hour fastballs.

I lean my forehead against the cool window, watching raindrops race down the glass.

A car with California plates passes, some girl in the passenger seat dancing to music I can't hear. We’ve got another four hours to Seattle.

Four hours of sitting here thinking about Camdyn, about Nathan, about all the ways I’m fucking this up.

Four hours of trying to find a position where my face doesn’t feel like it’s getting hit by a pitch all over again.

The bus rumbles north, and I want to text her but she’s probably sleeping. Or maybe she’s with him.

The thought makes me want to punch something, but there’s nowhere to go on a bus full of sleeping baseball players.

So I sit, watching Oregon disappear, wondering if I'm leaving more than a rivalry win behind. Another semi passes, its wake rocking the bus. The motion makes my stomach turn, but I can’t tell if it’s from the broken nose, the painkillers, or the thought of Camdyn with someone else.

I’m stretched across two seats around hour four of the ride, still awake, staring at my phone with my AirPods in.

My legs are cramped from trying to fit my six-foot-two frame in a space meant for middle schoolers.

Metro Boomin is supposed to be distracting me, but “Superhero” hits different when I’m thinking about someone else holding her.

She hasn’t said a word to me all day. I caved and checked her location—she’s in her dorm. My thumb hovers over her profile picture too long.

Wait. What if she’s texting him?

Fuck. I hate even thinking that.

Maybe she’s lying in bed, but I’m not the one she’s talking to. The thought sits like cement in my stomach. Damn. This feeling sucks. I should have blocked his number when I had her phone.

I should text her.

Nah. Don’t. She didn’t say anything all day. I should give her space.

Me giving her space lasts fifteen minutes, if that, and I pick up my phone. The blue light feels harsh on the dark bus, making my eyes sting. Or maybe that’s something else.

I type out:

Did you fuck him?

Delete.

Don’t send that ya Dick.

Still, I think about sending it.

What if she says yes?

My heart feels like it’s going to explode into pieces in my chest. The thought alone makes me sick.

How was your date??

That’s what I send. Casual. Like I’m not dying inside. Right?

You’re fucking losing it, Bro.

I flip my phone over on my chest. I don’t know if she’ll reply but my phone vibrates with a text soon after. The buzz against my sternum feels like a defibrillator.

I pick it up and see her name and the message.

Camdyn

Wait what?

How do yk abt that?

Ollie said you went out with Nathan

Oh

That’s all she says and the bubbles stop. I can’t leave it at that. The silence is worse than any answer.

So… how was it

Idkkk

Wdym by idk

She starts typing, then stops.

Again, and stops.

The three dots appear and disappear in Morse code of indecision. Just when I think she might reply, she doesn’t. Maybe she doesn’t want to tell me about it. I thought my question was better than the first. Maybe not.

I finally type out:

Hmmm

That she replies to.

You mad?

Nah

You’re such a fucking liar. And if she knows me, like I think she does, she knows I’m pissed. I’m so mad my heart’s pounding and I can barely hold my phone. I set it down on my chest again. I shouldn’t say more. But my curiosity gets the best of me and I pick it up.

I type again.

Did you fuck him?

Delete.

I want to know so fucking bad, but if she says yes I’ll probably send this phone through the window beside me. I glance at the window. The streetlights flashing in the bus seem to mock my indecision.

My phone buzzes again, but it’s not Camdyn. Inez pops up on my screen and my jaw clenches.

Inez

When do you get back?

Maybe coffee?

Fuck. The last thing I need. Inez was a mistake—thought maybe something different would help, but it only made me want Camdyn more. Now she won’t leave me alone. Maybe Inez is why Camdyn went out with Nathan. Maybe that’s why she’s moving on. Because she thought I had?

I don’t reply to Inez.

Instead, I stare at my last exchange with Camdyn. An hour passes and I think she’s not going to say anything else, or maybe she fell asleep, when my phone buzzes again.

Inez

hello??

“Fuck!” I hurl my phone. It hits the seat across the aisle, then bounces under the row in front where Ollie is drooling on his sweatshirt. I don’t even care if I cracked the screen.

“Shut the fuck up,” someone mumbles from the back.

Great. Now I have to army crawl through this moving bus to get my phone.

The floor is sticky with spilled Gatorade and God knows what else.

Empty chip bags and crushed Red Bull cans litter the aisle like the aftermath of a frat party.

I drop to my hands and knees, ignoring how my broken nose screams at the movement.

“The hell you doing?” Jameson whispers from his seat.

“Getting my phone,” I grunt, reaching under Kingston’s seat. My hand touches something wet. “Fuck.”

“You’re a disaster,” Jameson says, but he holds up his phone’s flashlight anyway, giving me enough light to see my phone wedged against someone’s cleats.

The bus hits a bump just as I’m stretched out in the aisle. My face slams into the floor, sending fresh pain through my nose. I roll over and hold my face. “Son of a bitch!”

“I said shut up!” Same voice from the back.

“Fuck off, Nash!” I whisper-shout, finally grabbing my phone. Getting back to my seat is like Twister in the dark. I bang my head, knee someone’s bag, and nearly fall when the bus takes a curve.

This is all bullshit. I want Camdyn back so bad it hurts, but I can’t have her.

Not now. Not when I need to focus on baseball.

Not when scouts are watching every game.

Not when my whole future depends on keeping my head in the game.

A relationship—a real one—takes time I don’t have. Energy I can’t spare.

But the thought of her moving on... of her finding someone else who can give her what I can’t right now...

My phone buzzes again in my hand like it might try to escape. There’s a new text from Camdyn:

Camdyn

He’s not you

That’s all it says. I smile. I know what she means. The knot in my chest loosens a little.

I type back:

ik the feeling girl

And that’s where we leave it. I blow out a breath and stare out the window, streaks of light streaming in. My heart’s still pounding, but different now. Four words shouldn’t mean this much, but they do. They really fucking do.

I ignore three more texts from Inez. She’s not who I want, and I hate myself for ever letting her think she could be. But Camdyn... damn. I can’t give her what she deserves right now, but I can’t stand the thought of someone else giving it to her either.

Baseball’s everything. It has to be. But lying here in the dark, with Metro Boomin still playing in my ears and Camdyn’s “He’s not you” burning on my screen, I wonder if I’m making the biggest mistake of my life by not giving Camdyn what she deserves.