Page 26 of Please Don’t Go (The Midnight Strike #1)

DANIEL

We’re hitting live at-bat, and while we consistently do this throughout the preseason, we’ve been ramping up more on it. Spending more hours in and outdoors, so the coaches can calculate our batting averages and we can work on anything we need to improve on.

From the corner of my eye, I see Noah positioning back into a squat as Angel readies himself.

“Stay ready,” Noah lowly says from behind his mitt.

With the slight tip of my head, I position my feet, tightening my hands around the bat. He pitches but I mistakenly swing and miss because it’s a fastball dot on the black, and it’s a strike.

Now that makes the count 2-3. I’m out.

“I told you to stay ready.” Noah stands, removing his face guard.

“ Perdon papi! ” Angel shouts from the mound, the corner of his mouth just barely quirking upward into a small smile. It’s meant to come off as I’m sorry, better luck next time, I’m a team player kind of smile, but I know him enough to know he’s full of shit.

That’s his I’m better than you, you suck ass smile.

I grin, not letting his secret taunt get to me. Not that it ever does, and either way I’m in too good of a mood to give a damn.

“Bring it in,” Coach D announces, waving his hand in for us all to gather around.

“Good job out there.” He praises us once we’re all circled around him and spends the next few minutes going over things we need to tweak to improve before he releases us until we have to show up back tonight for our second practice of the day.

“Sanchez, Garcia, once you’re done showering, in my office,” Coach says as he walks out of the field.

Angel and I look at each other and while he furtively smiles, my mood isn’t as positive as it was a second ago. I know what it’s about; it’s something we talked about a few months ago, something I knew was bound to come.

I should be ecstatic, but my stomach only knots, twists, and churns when Angel and I are both sitting in his office.

“I want to start off by saying that I’m immensely proud of you both.

” He bears a small smile, but I feel it exude with pride.

He’s not always a man of many words, but the faintest smile is enough to express exactly what he’s feeling and is struggling to say.

“I don’t want to prolong this more than I need to, but I’m honored to have been able to coach you both. ”

“Aw, Vincenzo D’Angelo.” Angel places a hand on his chest, brows drawn together and lips pursed in a pout. “You love us.”

On a normal day, Coach D would not let that slide, but I know this is a special occasion, so he’ll let it pass.

“Coach, I’m so touched,” I force a smile.

I fold my hands on my laps, hating how they’re slick with sweat. They haven’t stopped sweating and my heart hasn’t been able to beat the same. It’s slow, dead almost, and maybe it’d be better off that way.

I pinch my chain and pull on it and away from my neck before I let it fall. The safety pin softly taps my chest, reminding me of my promise.

“I won’t draw this out or leave you in suspense. You will or should have already received your MLB Draft Prospect Link email.” His lips tip up a little higher, eyes shining with pride. In other words, that link is an invitation and a step closer to entering the MLB draft, so it’s a big deal.

You did it!

I mimic or at least aim to mimic Angel’s excited but trying to keep it cool posture. Because this is a big deal; it’s something we’ve been busting our asses for since we realized we could potentially make a career out of baseball.

So I should be over the goddamn moon because I’m a step closer to finally making the dream a reality. But as happy as I want to be, I can’t. It feels wrong.

My stomach bottoms out and the protein shake I had before we came into his office threatens to rise. Between the nausea and the guilt-consuming thoughts, I zone out. I hear him go over what’s to come, but I don’t feel like I’m really here.

Everything has gone on autopilot. I smile, shake his hand, and deliver a thank you and I couldn’t have done this without you . There are many more words we exchange and then I watch him do the same with Angel.

I don’t feel like myself but it’s not until Coach asks me to stay back and shut the door that I feel like I’m somewhat back to reality.

“What’s going on?” he asks, eyes assessing keenly over me.

You did it!

I smile wider, hoping I’m masking how disoriented I feel. “Nothing, why?”

He tilts his head, crossing his arms against his chest, like he’s not believing me.

“You look a little pale. Don’t let this all overwhelm you.

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask for help, Danny.

I know it’s a lot of information, but you’ve got me and everyone here ready to help you.

We’re all rooting for you and want to see you succeed. ”

My chest constricts, but I brush away the discomfort. “Yeah, it’s a lot but I promise I’m good. I think the protein shake isn’t sitting right in my stomach,” I lie.

“Please don’t puke in my office because if you do, I will make you clean it up.” He grimaces, backing away like he’s afraid I’ll throw up any second.

I quietly laugh, still not feeling better, but at least now it’s easier to pretend like I’m fine. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving now.”

Join MLB Draft Prospect Link

I reread the subject line too many times.

You did it! my subconscious voices, reminding me this is what I’ve worked for, what I’ve wanted, what I’ve dreamed of.

My finger glides along the touchpad, and I’m hesitant and anxious about clicking the email.

Making up my mind, I close my laptop instead and shove it back in my bag.

You did it! it reminds me again. Call Mom and Dad. Tell Pen. Answer the guys’ messages they left in the group chat. Angel told them so they’ve been blowing up my phone.

You did it!

I shouldn’t be alone. I should be doing something, right? I shouldn’t be holed up in a room in the university’s library.

You did it!

With each reminder, the air becomes more shallow, the weight on my chest heavier and unyielding, and the guilt all-consuming.

You did it!

I should be happy…

Before my hollow thoughts can extinguish whatever air is left, I toss my bag over my shoulder and slip out of the study room.

Still, I struggle to breathe and to keep up the fragile mask threatening to disintegrate off my face. It doesn’t help that as I walk out of the library and head to the university’s parking deck where my car is, I feel like I’m fighting against gravity.

“Danny!” Pen calls my name, halting me before I make it inside the parking deck.

I hope to God Angel didn’t tell her because I told him not to.

I turn, masking a smile. “Hey.”

“Where’s your phone? I’ve texted you like twenty million times.” She stands in front of me, panting and slightly sweaty.

I should tell her. She’s right here. She deserves to know, but so did Adrian and he’s not here.

The bridge of my nose and the back of my eyes burn.

“Did you run here?” I blink the feeling away, but that distorts the color making everything one blur of black and white.

Smile harder.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have if you would have answered your phone.” She aggravatedly blows out a weary breath.

“Sorry, I was busy.” I fish my phone out and sure enough find ten messages from her. All of them are her asking if I have cash on me. “Really, Pen? You know there are ATMs everywhere.”

“I know but they tax you like five dollars, and in this economy, I refuse to lose that.” She wipes the sweat off her forehead. “So can I borrow twenty dollars?”

“Borrow?” I cock a brow, knowing damn well she has no intention of ever paying me back. “You owe me like a thousand dollars.”

She gasps, pretending to look offended. “That’s not true. I’ve never borrowed that much.”

I pull my wallet out. “Do I want to know what it’s for?”

“Nope.” She sweetly smiles at me when I take out forty dollars. As she goes to take the money from my hand, her eyes do a double take on my wallet. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” I quickly shut it and tuck it in my pocket.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “What are you hiding?”

“What are you talking about?” I take a step back when she takes a step forward.

Her gaze burns a hole in my jean pocket, and she takes another step. “What’s in your wallet?”

I stretch my hand out, my palm on her face to stop her from taking another step. “Do you have no sense of personal space? You’re worse than Angel.”

She slaps my hand away. “I don’t think your boyfriend would appreciate you talking about him like that. And I’m your sister; personal space doesn’t exist between us.”

“Is that right?”

“Don’t do that thing where you mix my words and use them against me,” she says and again, she tries to get closer.

Somehow, she manages to achieve it because she’s right in front of me.

I try to push her off, and if it weren’t because we’re on campus, I’d put her in a headlock.

We play around a lot and have playfully fought, but not everyone sees it that way and I don’t want them to think I’m attacking her.

Which is why she finds a way to take my wallet out and opens it.

Her eyes excitedly shine until she sees what’s inside.

Her entire face morphs into confusion. “Why do you have this?”

“ No seas pinche metiche .” I snatch it away and tuck it deeper in my pocket.

“Is that the?—”

“It’s not. I gotta go to my hiking seminar. Do you need anything else?” I step back, adding enough distance between us, but something tells me she’s not going to get in my space again.

She saw it and knows exactly what it is. But I deny it regardless.

Her lips stretch wide into a knowing grin, eyes sparkling with hope. “Oh Danny.”

“Shut up. It’s not like that. I meant to take it out.”

“Mm-hmm, sure, right,” she drawls sarcastically. “So is it what I think it is? Because I’d recognize that anywhere.”

I inhale a patient breath. “I gotta go. You need anything else?”

Pen’s face softens. “I’m proud of you.”

My heart accelerates. “For what?”