Page 24

“Okay, people!” Mateo says into the mic as Liz kneels behind home plate and Trey jogs over to the pitcher’s mound. “Let’s do this! Cameras ready?”

The three guys with heavy cameras on their shoulders nod.

“Action!”

Once the batter is in position, Trey underhand throws the ball to him. The batter swings and misses. They do a few takes of this until the batter finally makes contact with the ball. It barrels toward left field as the people on the away team’s bleachers make some noise.

The band’s drummer races toward the ball and catches it in his glove with ease. The people in my bleachers pop up to cheer. I join them, waving my pom-poms in the air.

The next batter is a woman with her long blonde hair in a ponytail sticking out of her helmet.

Trey pitches her the ball. She hits it, drops her bat, then runs until she makes it to second base.

The red team cheers from the dugout as the fans on their bleachers do the same.

Everyone on my side shouts out some boos.

An hour later, my throat is sore. I’ve never seen the filming of a music video before, so I didn’t realize how much work goes into these things. They have to film things over and over again until they get the right shot.

During the scene where Liz has to slide home, they make her do it fifteen times before the director is satisfied with how the dirt looks as it kicks up behind her. I never would have thought little things like that mattered so much.

This whole time, Trey hasn’t looked my way once. I don’t think he knows I’m here. Javina mentioned that all the coordination to be here came from the band’s manager. I doubt anyone from the actual band is part of that process.

I keep obsessing over what’s going to happen when Trey does see me.

Is he going to want to talk to me? If so, what will he say?

What will I say? I’m not sure if I even want to talk to him.

I mean, I do, but I don’t. What if it’s awkward?

What if it ends badly? Or worse, what if he pretends like we don’t know each other and just ignores me the whole time?

I think that will hurt the most, even though it shouldn’t.

I shouldn’t want to talk to him as much as I do, but I do.

I shouldn’t think about him as much as I do either, but I do.

“Last scene!” Mateo’s voice booms over the speakers a while later. “Six-pack, you know what you gotta do?”

Trey nods from his position at home plate as he practices swinging his bat. “Hit a homer, run around the bases, get water dumped over my head.”

“Exactly. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. We’ll all be home in no time.”

Trey chuckles from deep in his belly. It’s a laugh I’ve heard in my dreams but never in real life. Hearing it makes my insides flutter. “You’ve got more faith in me than I do, Mateo. You saw how I did during rehearsal yesterday. I couldn’t hit a home run to save my life.”

“Yeah, but now you’ve got loads of people watching. I’m hoping the pressure will whip you into shape. Aaand action!”

A guy wearing red on the pitcher’s mound readies himself, then tosses the ball toward home plate. Trey swings and misses, then shakes his head at himself.

“You’ve got this, Willie Mays!” Mateo shouts with his hands cupped around his mouth. “Let’s try that again.”

A woman on the side of the field throws the pitcher a new ball. He catches it in his glove, then readies himself again as Trey raises his bat into the air. When the pitcher releases the ball, Trey swings, and it’s another strike.

“Try again,” Mateo says.

Trey strikes out with the next ball.

And the next.

And the next.

“Come on, Pete Rose!” Mateo says. “You can do this!”

Trey chuckles beautifully. “I’m telling ya, man, I think my bat is broken.”

Mateo puts the microphone up to his lips. “Let’s pump him up, guys! Trey! Trey! Trey!”

Everyone in the bleachers, even the red side, joins in on Mateo’s chant.

Javina throws her fist into the air each time she shouts his name. I cup my palms around my mouth and chant too.

Trey shakes his head at the crowd as he gestures for everyone to calm down. “Thanks, but I think this might be faster if someone else hits a home run and we just edit the person to look like me in post.”

“No can do, buddy-boy,” Mateo says. “We need this shot to look as authentic as possible. Now channel your inner Babe Ruth and knock this shit outta the park.”

The giggly woman with the pink hair cups her mouth. “If you hit this next one, my friend will let you take her out on a date.”

The friend playfully slaps the woman with pink hair on her shoulder. “Caitlyn!”

Trey turns to offer the ladies a warm smile. “Thanks for the encouragement, but I?—”

His eyes lock with mine, then his smile drops. The world stills as he stares at me, mouth partly open. His intense gaze from those blue-grays steals my breath away. He’s blinking at me like he’s not sure if I’m real.

In the corner of my eye, I see the giggly women turn around to find out what he’s gaping at. A few others whip their heads around too. Then suddenly, everyone’s staring at me, making me want to curl into a turtle shell.

Trey rubs his eyes with his fingers, then glances back at me. We lock gazes again, and I almost wave at him as a peace offering. Before I get the chance to, he tears his attention off me.

With a shaky voice, he calls out, “Liz?”

She runs to him from the dugout. “What’s wrong, T?”

He grips her forearm and says something to her I can’t make out. Whatever he says, it makes her turn to look at the bleachers. When she catches sight of me, her eyes go wide, then she turns back to Trey. She says something in a low voice. He responds by sucking in a deep breath and nodding back.

Javina nudges my arm with her elbow. “I think they’re talking about you.”

I’m speechless. I think so too.