Page 39

THIRTY-EIGHT

“Answer the phone,” I growled as my mother’s voicemail clicked on again.

The same familiar message filled my ears, reiterating that her voicemail box hadn’t been set up despite my dozens of reminders.

With an annoyed huff, I chucked my phone back in my bag, too frustrated to keep playing her games.

No doubt, she was punishing me for ignoring her calls over the past week, or she was deep into self-destruction mode.

Either way, I’d done my part, tried to call despite her hostile voicemails.

I couldn’t worry about her right now, not when I was running so late.

I’d gotten stuck at work a little longer than I’d planned, pulled into an impromptu parent meeting about grades in the pickup line. By the time I checked my phone, I saw more messages waiting from Cam, but he would already be on the field, so I didn’t bother to reply.

My legs burned as I rushed through the stadium, hating that my rideshare had dropped me off at the furthest corner. I must have accidentally crossed under a ladder, or Laila must have traipsed in front of my path, because the universe was determined to keep me from the game .

My heartbeat slowed as I got to our section, rushing down the concrete steps to find Ollie waiting for me. As soon as I slouched down in my seat, she handed me a hard seltzer. “You look like you could use this.”

“You are an angel.” I took a long sip, letting the cold bubbles soothe my anxieties. Running late was nothing new for me, but I hated I’d missed so much of the pre-game, especially talking to Cam. Just as I settled in my seat, the music amped up, and the announcer called out the starting lineup.

I reached into my bag and grabbed my Seda jersey, throwing it over my tank top, ready to cheer on Cam and his team.

I waited for him to show up with his signature smile, but when he walked out onto the field, it was missing.

In fact, his mouth formed a tight line and his hands clenched at his sides.

It was so different from his usual persona, it took me a minute to realize it was Cam.

The team stood in the dug-out, waiting for the game to begin.

It was hard to see Cam from over here, but once he went out onto the field, I had the best view in the stadium.

Thank goodness, Ollie and I changed our seats to the edge of the right field, where we could watch Parker and Cam in action.

The box might be a nice luxury, but it seemed a little out of touch, too distant from the rest of the crowd.

I preferred being out here, in the middle of a crowd of Hawks fans as they excitedly chanted their favorite players’ names.

A lot more Seda jerseys filled the crowd now, almost equal to the other big name players. It filled my chest with pride, knowing how long Cam had wanted this and that he was playing so well. I never thought dedication to a sport would be such a turn-on, but here we were.

While the team prepared to start the game, Ollie and I whooped and cheered for our boys.

Yes, our boys. It was useless to deny it.

Ollie might still firmly be in the just friends’ camp, but I was too far gone for that.

After my conversation with Brianna, the words “you’re falling for Cam” repeated in my mind like an oath.

The announcer called out Cam’s name and number, and I jumped up from my seat, screaming as loud as my lungs would let me. He turned over to our section and gave me a wave, but it lacked his usual excitement. Dread pooled in my core—had something changed for Cam too?

He must have seen the distress on my face, because he turned back toward me, mouthing the words “I missed you.” They soothed my churning insides a little, but not enough to ignore all the warning bells going off in my mind.

After the announcer finished, he darted to the outfield, warming up before the visiting team started batting.

Normally, Cam looked confident on the field—not in a cocky way, more like confidence in his skills.

But tonight, his movements felt different, as if he’d lost that trust in himself.

As he threw the ball with the other outfielders, his throws seemed a little off, as if he was too in his head.

“Hey, Sarge!” I called out, not caring who heard me.

Ollie tugged at the edge of my jersey. “Hads, he’s not supposed to talk to us. If he does, he’ll get fined.”

“It’s okay,” I said as his face perked up and he met my eye. He gave me a tentative smile, but it was there—the first one he’d cracked since he walked out on the field. “Remember our bet!”

He shook his head, unable to hide his wide grin. “Thought that was just for LA?”

“Yup,” I shouted back. “But I’m always down to raise the stakes.”

“You’ve got a deal, menace.” Cam winked up at me, and warmth spread through my chest. “See you after the game. ”

“Give ‘em hell, baby!”

The other outfielders turned to watch our conversation, probably confused about what was happening.

One guy must have said something, because Cam shot him a warning look.

His eyes narrowed and his forehead creased, but it wasn’t enough to break the smile on his lips when he turned back to me.

His umber eyes searched mine, and for a moment, my heart beat a little faster.

It was the expression usually reserved for rom-coms and epic, sweeping romances, when the guy realized he never wanted to live without his love interest again.

Or it was wishful thinking on my part.

As the first batter stepped up to the plate, Cam’s attention turned back to the game, that fierce determination back in its place.

I settled back in my seat, and Ollie handed me a beer. Her eyes burned into the side of my face as she smirked at me. “What?”

“Nothing.” She smirked. “Just wondering when you finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“That you’re in love with Cam.”

This was the second time today someone had told me as much.

But unlike earlier with Brianna, I didn’t deny it.

Unfortunately, the brief joy in Cam’s eyes was gone by the second inning.

The Rebels were crushing the Hawks, and they seemed to know every play in their handbook.

I’d chewed my nails down to the beds while watching, especially when I looked over at Cam waiting in the dugout.

Frustration lined every inch of his body, from the clench of his fists to the tightness in his brow.

It took everything in me to stay in my seat, wanting nothing more than to run to him and take some of his pain away.

“It’s fine,” Ollie muttered in her seat, more to herself than to me as Parker stepped up to bat. Her hands wrung together, and her eyes never left him. “You can do this, Park. You’ve got this.”

As his walk-up song blared through the stadium speakers, Ollie hummed along absentmindedly.

Not surprising, considering Ollie almost always picked Parker’s walk-up songs.

According to her, he had the worst taste in music, and it was her duty as his best friend to remedy that.

She’d been making him playlists and helping him since high school, and it seemed like it wouldn’t end soon.

Her words turned hushed as Parker turned slightly, staring directly at our section. Just as Cam always found me in the crowd, he always looked for Ollie. Parker shot her a sly smile before turning to face the pitcher with a determined stare.

The pitcher wound his arm back, throwing the ball through the air with almost inhuman speed.

Parker didn’t bite on the first swing, instead standing still as the umpire called “strike”.

Ollie muttered a sharp curse under her breath as the pitcher repeated the motions, but this time, Parker tried to hit the ball.

And missed.

Before my mind caught up, the umpire called out a second strike.

Parker shook his head, muttering a sharp curse under his breath.

Ollie reached out and took my hand, clenching it as hard as possible when the third pitch came.

But it was no use. The sound when the ball collided with the catcher’s glove echoed in the crowd, everyone almost silent as Parker walked off the field.

When he reached the dug-out, he chucked his helmet down, screaming out a frustrated groan.

Cam gave him a commiserating pat on the back before turning to watch the next couple of batters step up to the base.

A single. Another single. Enough to get on base, but not nearly enough to tie up the score.

By the time Cam stepped up to bat, the Hawks were still five runs behind the Rebels, and the tension was so palpable, it clouded the whole stadium.

Ringing filled my ears, blocking out the hum of the music and the cheers of the crowd.

All I could do was close my eyes and pray Cam would pull off another flawless hit.

But as we watched pitch after pitch, that didn’t happen.

Ball after ball landed in the catcher’s mitt, Cam’s timing off by a second or two.

My heart jumped into my throat. This wasn’t like Cam.

This wasn’t the team I’d grown to love. When the third strike called out, Cam looked like he was ready to murder someone.

His hands tensed on the bat, as if he was tempted to break it into pieces but didn’t want to rack up any fines.

By the time he walked back into the dugout, he slouched down on the bench, far out of sight from the crowd.

“Holy shit,” I said to Ollie. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Ollie reached out and squeezed my hand. “They’re having an off night—it happens. There’s still a lot of game left.”

But even with her reassuring words, her eyes never left Parker’s, as if she was struggling with being on the sidelines as much as I was.

“Do you think it’s my fault?” I asked, unable to look away from the dugout. Where was he? Was he okay? Cam put a ridiculous amount of pressure on himself, constantly trying to prove his place on the team. If I’d somehow messed with his head?—

“No,” Ollie insisted. “It’s a bad night. They all have them once in a while. Don’t put that on yourself. If anything, you helped Cam. We all saw it. He was in a mood before he ever stepped out onto the field.”

“How do you help Parker on nights like this?”

“I get him drunk and then take him to an all-night laser tag place. Something about taking out overly-competitive teenagers makes him a little less mopey.” Ollie took her hand and linked our fingers.

“Honestly, it depends on what’s going on in his mind.

Sometimes, he needs a distraction, and there are other nights he needs to talk through the game.

All you can do is be there for them. This is a long season, and they’re going to have a couple of rough nights.

As long as they get back up again tomorrow, ready to do it again, that’s all that matters. ”

Without another thought, I let go of Ollie’s hand and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For all your advice and support so far. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here with me.”

“Awww, Hads,” Ollie said as she pretended to flick a tear away. “Same to you, babe. Even though you’re no longer a member of the platonic best friend’s club, you’ll always have a place next to me.”