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18

EVERY brOKEN FEELING

Jamie

I’m going to fix my shit.

That’s my meditation. I have no idea if that’s how meditation is supposed to work, but I’m trying to chill myself out before my game.

Amanda’s not here today, and that sucks, but after I fucked up and missed most of the biggest event she’s ever been responsible for, I have zero room to ask her for anything.

I’m still kicking my own ass about that, but I’m trying to let it go. All I can do is be better from here on out, so like with my game, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.

There’s a knock on my hotel door, and I grunt as I push myself off the hotel room floor and go to answer it. Probably one of the guys trying to convince me to go get lunch with them. I appreciate the effort to draw out my introverted self, but I like the peace of some downtime before a game.

When I swing the door open, though, it’s not one of the guys. At least not one of the guys I’m expecting.

“Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” Aaron asks .

I laugh, trying to cover the emotion that bubbles inside me. “Hell yes. Get in here.”

I step aside so he can come in, and the minute the door closes behind us, he gives me a big hug.

Fuck, I don’t like the emotion that swells in me when he does that.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, getting control of myself.

“Philly isn’t that bad of a drive, and I had a few days free. I thought I’d come down and see the game. Marc told me what room you were in so I could surprise you.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

His brows pull in. “Are you okay?”

I shove my hand through my hair. “It’s been a rough few games for me.”

“I noticed you had some losses, but I didn’t think you pitched poorly. I’m sorry. I should’ve checked in with you more. Why didn’t you reach out?”

I shrug even though I know the answer. It’s not something I’m great at doing, and the more isolated I feel, the more used to it I become and that makes it harder.

He pins me with a look. “What’s going on?”

I walk over and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“It’s been harder settling in than I thought it would be. I mean, I knew there would be changes, but I stupidly thought I’d pick up where I left off in AAA. Maybe not pitching no-hitters or complete games, but I wouldn’t be sucking. I’m in a funk, but I don’t know why, and instead of throwing balls, all I’m doing is dropping them. I let Amanda down last week because I was too focused on baseball. It’s all fucked up.”

He sits down next to me. “You’re being too hard on yourself. But I get it. When you’re passionate about something, you don’t want to fuck it up. Do you remember…” He laughs to himself. “Well, I’m sure you remember when I’m talking about because it was when you met Amanda.”

“The Christmas party? ”

“Mhm. Well, specifically, I’m thinking of the day after.”

I cringe at that. The day I went and yelled at him for not having his shit together—for not fighting for himself. I deserve to eat a slice of humble pie over that right now. I was almost eighteen and thought I knew every fucking thing.

“I remember.”

“You were trying to get to me, and you said something like ‘it doesn’t matter anyway because you were never going to play pro.’”

“If you’re going to tell me I was a jackass, I deserve it.”

“No. I was going to say that you were right. It was different. I never had dreams of going pro, but what’s the same across the board is the fear of losing the thing you love, the thing that grounds you. And I know that’s where your head is right now.”

“Yeah. Every game, I try to set it aside and just pitch, but the first hit I allow, that thought creeps in, and with every subsequent hit or run, it gets louder until it’s eating away at me.”

“I know telling you to let it go isn’t going to help. The mental side of the game is complex. But mental health is sort of my thing.”

“Of course it is, Mr. Guidance Counselor.”

“Soon to be, but yeah. But also as a pitching coach. With any sport, it’s a mental game. But overall, I think pitchers and goalies have the worst of that. We rest the weight of the game on our shoulders, even when it’s a team sport.”

“So, what’s your sage advice?”

“Forget about the game. When you go out there tonight, don’t go out like a major league pitcher. Go out like you’re pitching for the guys and Miles is the one catching the ball. Forget the expectation and remember why you love it. Because skill helps you, but it’s the passion for the game that takes you all the way. Forget about everything else and remember why you love the game.”

“Sometimes I miss just getting out on the field and shooting the shit with you guys.”

He laughs. “Well, give it fifteen years and we’ll be there again. Playing in some old man baseball rec league.” He smacks my shoulder. “But you’ve got a career to build first so we can all listen to you tell us about when you were a badass professional ball player. If you can’t get out of your head for any other reason, do it for the future bragging rights.”

I let out a sigh. This is exactly what I needed. What I’ve been missing.

The one thing I didn’t plan for was how isolating being in the majors would feel. It’s a reminder of how important it is to stay grounded in my current friendships, but also to work harder to develop friendships on the team. It might not come naturally to me, but it’s going to be essential for my survival.

And hopefully holding on to Aaron’s advice—and remembering why I love this game—will help me do that… and help me get out of this damn slump.

Amanda

It’s funny how easily I’ve started thinking of Ida as home. Sure, it’s right by Woods Junction, but when I think of home, I think of Ida. Our apartment. My best friends. Some of my favorite restaurants.

Right now, I’m sitting at Jimmy’s Coffee House, waiting for the potential client I’m meeting to get here. She’s the one who requested a meeting several weeks ago, but I had to get through the crazy of the last few weeks first.

Lauren, the owner of Jimmy’s—named after her late father—sets my coffee on the table.

“Thanks, Lauren.”

“No problem. I haven’t seen you around as much. How have you been?”

Small towns . Sure, the city has more options for food and entertainment. There’s so much more to explore. But there’s nothing like half the people who come in here knowing my name and stopping to chat. That’s why it’s become home.

“I’ve been good. Busy. Really busy.”

She laughs and looks around. “I know the feeling. And I think I heard my mom talking about some big event you did down in the city?”

My cheeks heat a little. “Yeah. It was a gala. Really cool to be a part of.”

“Well, congratulations. How’s Jamie doing?”

“Good,” I sort of lie. “He’s settling in with the Metros. Living his dream.” I do everything I can to keep the wistfulness from my tone when I say it. Things have been fine in the last week since the gala. Nothing else has happened. But I haven’t been able to shake the unsettling wrongness—the tiny crack that formed that night. Mostly because it felt like the culmination of weeks of him struggling and me trying to hold everything together. I don’t think that is going to change any time soon.

The bell over the door goes off, and a woman walks in, looking around.

I wave to Lauren as she walks off, then catch the woman’s eye. “Lisa?”

“Hi. Are you Amanda?”

“That’s me. Have a seat.”

“Thank you. My partner is running a few minutes late, but she’ll be here soon.” Lisa lets out a little sigh. “I was so happy when your website said you were an LGBTQ friendly business. One event planner I spoke to sounded wonderful until I mentioned I was marrying a woman. Then she said some horrible things and hung up the phone.”

I hate people. Why anyone thinks they get a say in who someone else loves is beyond me. Who I love and who I sleep with doesn’t hurt anyone else. Love is love, and fuck anyone who thinks otherwise.

“I’m so sorry. I’d also happily take her name so I can make sure I never accidentally recommend her to someone. For the record, I want you to know this is an absolute safe space. I’m bi, and I want all my clients to feel safe being exactly who they are. You deserve your dream wedding, and I hope I can help give it to you.”

She looks like she might cry for a second, but nods. “Thank you. I saw you did a big event for a trans foundation. That’s amazing.”

“I came in late, and a lot of the planning was done, but it was an honor to be a part of it. But enough about me. How long have you and your partner been together?”

“About a year-and-a-half. We got engaged a couple of months ago, and are hoping we can scrape together a wedding before the end of May next year. She’s going into her last year of college, and wherever she ends up going for grad school is where we’ll be moving, but since our families are here, we want to do it before we leave.”

“I’ve planned weddings in less time.”

Her face lights up, but I realize it’s not because of what I said. She’s looking out the window behind me. “Here she comes now.”

She gets up to greet her fiancée, and I stand, smiling, ready to introduce myself, but when they step apart, my blood runs cold.

“Amanda, this is?—”

“Maci,” I breathe.

Maci’s eyes fly wide.

Maci. My ex-girlfriend. My ex-girlfriend who broke up with me and cut me out because she supposedly wasn’t into girls after all.

My stomach lurches, though I try to keep a calm expression on my face.

“Amanda,” Maci says quietly.

“You two know each other?” Lisa asks.

I clear my throat and look at Lisa. “I’m so sorry. I won’t be able to help you, but I’ll email you a list of event planners I trust who you can reach out to.” My eyes flit to Maci, then back to Lisa. “I wish you the best.”

Then I push past the chairs in my way and hurry out the front door.

“Amanda! Amanda, wait!” Maci yells, running after me.

No. No.

This is my worst nightmare. I must be in hell, because that’s the only place one should have to endure this kind of torture.

I keep walking, but she doesn’t give up.

“Amanda, please.” Maci grabs my arm, and I spin around, a mix of heartbreak and fury warring within me.

“What do you want? I’m sorry I can’t plan your wedding, but it would be a conflict of interest for me, seeing as I can’t stand you.”

She glances back at the building. “I… understand that.”

“Great. I’m so glad you understand. We’re done then.”

“No. Please. I need to explain.”

“Explain what? Explain why you’re marrying a woman when you told me you didn’t actually like girls. That it was all an experiment. That I didn’t mean anything to you.”

Fuck the tears that well in my eyes.

She opens her mouth, but I’m out of control. “Did you ever love me? Or was it all a lie?”

Ugh. One run-in with Maci and I revert to that pathetic, desperate girl.

“I—”

I wave my hand. “No. Don’t answer that. I’m not sure which answer would hurt worse. You either loved me and lied and said you didn’t and made me feel crazy, or you led me on the whole time. I don’t know what’s more awful. You didn’t need to follow me out here. I’m not your girl. Clearly, I never was. So go back to your fiancée. I hope you have a lovely life together.”

Then I turn on my heel and walk away, my stomach churning and tears burning in my eyes.

She’s with a woman. No matter what way you spin it, her being with me was never an experiment. She knew what she wanted. It just wasn’t me .

It’s never me.

Tears trickle down my face, and I don’t realize where I am or where I’m going until I’m standing in front of the bakery Mackenzie’s family owns, staring up at her window.

“Mands?”

I slowly turn, but it’s not Mackie standing there. It’s Hyla.

In less than a second, I’m engulfed in a hug. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.”

“Come on. Let’s go inside.”

She leads me up the stairs that go to the two-story apartment above the bakery where Mackie lives.

“Hey, Hy, what’s—Mands… what’s going on?”

“She needs some love,” Hyla whispers.

They whisk me off to Mackenzie’s room, and I end up sitting on the floor between them. I don’t know how they do it—stay friends despite the emotional turmoil of their past relationship.

“What happened?” Hyla asks, wrapping an arm around me.

Mackenzie does the same, resting her head against mine.

“Why am I not enough?” My voice shakes, and all I want to do is give in to the crushing ache in my chest.

“You’re more than enough. Anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves,” Mackie says.

Tears come hot and fast, and I don’t bother trying to hold them back. I’m an emotional wreck. Might as well lean into it.

“Tell us what happened,” Hyla says, gently running her fingers through my hair.

I bite my lip, a wave of self-loathing hitting me. I don’t deserve her comforting me after how I treated her when she and Mackie were first dating. I compared her to my horrible ex, and didn’t see the woman she was beneath it all. Hyla is the friend everyone needs. She shows up every time in any way she can. She’s always the one to uplift everyone. It took less than a year to realize my mistake, but I will always regret it. After all that, now she’s the one comforting me without a second thought .

She wraps her hand around mine and squeezes tightly. “We’ve got you. You’re safe here.”

“I’m sorry,” I cry.

“Why?” Hyla asks.

“Because I was bitch to you when we first met, and you didn’t deserve that. You always deserved all the love and support possible. I thought—I thought you were like her…”

“Like who?”

“Maci.”

“Her ex,” Mackie clarifies.

“But you’re not. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me again. You’ve done that enough. And since then, you’ve showed up for me over and over again—in all my worst moments. You’ve protected me and taken care of me, and our friendship has grown beautifully. You’ve been there for me through every horrible moment, just like I’m here for you. We are here for you. Tell us what happened.”

So I do.

“You are not the problem,” Hyla says when I’ve finished. “It was never about you.”

“Then why was I the collateral damage?”

“Because some people aren’t strong enough to take responsibility for their own feelings and actions, and they hurt other people in the process,” Mackie says. “I know this has always been a trigger point for you, but it seemed like you’d moved on or healed a bit from it over the years.”

“I thought I had,” I admit, my throat thickening with emotion again. “I don’t feel like the strongest version of myself right now.”

“How have things been with you and Jamie?” Hyla asks, getting right to the heart of things as usual. I swear, because she’s walked through the hardest times, she always seems to know exactly what someone else’s struggles are. And she’s always ready to jump in and help.

“Hard,” I admit. With that, I explain everything else that’s been happening lately. The multitude of little moments that have built into something bigger—something harder to face. Especially when I’m facing it alone. “I’m trying to keep it all together and support him, but I feel like I’m failing at every turn.”

“If you’re always supporting him, who’s supporting you?” Mackie asks.

I turn and look at her, then Hyla. “You. All the girls.”

“But you have to let us,” Hyla whispers. “You’ve been struggling alone for weeks and haven’t told us. We’re all here for you, so please don’t hide from us.”

“You mean I have to ask for help?” I joke, but it falls flat.

“It’s either that or we start showing up on your doorstep.”

“Yep. We’ll create a whole rotation so one of us is there all the time,” Mackie says with her signature troublemaking smile.

“I feel weak,” I whisper. “Usually I muscle through things with a good attitude. Not being able to makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong, like I’m not trying hard enough—or I’m not strong enough.”

“You’re not failing. Or weak. You are strong and badass and so fiercely loving and supportive. It’s normal to struggle with change. I know you’re used to being superwoman, but you don’t have to be. Give yourself the same grace you’d give any of us,” Hyla says.

Why is it so hard to have grace for yourself when you’d never be as hard on any of the people you love?

“Thank you.” I blow out a shaky breath. “I’ve really missed you all.”

“We’ve missed you too.”

“I have another suggestion.” Hyla bites her lip. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you should consider going to therapy. I’ve learned the hard way that thinking you can manage it on your own never leads to anything but unnecessary struggle.”

“I’ve thought about it.” More than once, if I’m honest. “But I’ve talked myself out of it or convinced myself I didn’t need it because when things are good, I’m fine. It’s only when I struggle that I think about it. Isn’t that just how life goes?”

Hyla smiles and squeezes my hand again. “You don’t go to therapy to be able to handle the good days. You go to therapy to work through what you need to so you have the strength and resilience to get through the hard days.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” I sigh. She’s right. I know she is. In the past, I’ve been able to muscle through hard times with a good attitude because underneath it all, for the most part, I felt settled and calm. That’s not true anymore. I’m in a constant state of inner turmoil, so when my outside world gets chaotic, I don’t have a safe place. “Is it okay to admit I’m scared?”

“Of course. If therapy was easy, everyone would be doing it,” Hyla says. “Or if society and our healthcare system acknowledged how important mental health is and didn’t trivialize and demonize it. But that’s a battle for another day.” She bumps her knee against mine. “We all love you, and we’re going to get you through this. Actually… I think this calls for an emergency girls’ night.” I open my mouth, but Hyla pins me with a look. “Do not argue with me on this. You need to be surrounded by love.”

I laugh at that because I wasn’t going to. “No arguments. I was just going to ask if we could do it at my apartment. I want to be home.”

Jamie is so back and forth it’s hard to rely on him as a safe space. I haven’t been a safe place for myself. But my home is, and I need that right now too.

Jamie

Holy shit.

I’m kicking ass tonight.

There have been some tough batters on this team, but I’ve only let a handful of hits through and one run in five innings. For once I might make it a full seven or eight innings.

What Aaron said this morning stuck with me—to remember why I love playing, and being out here today with the sun shining and a light breeze blowing has had me in my element. Like I might as well be back on the field at Ida High, playing with my best friends.

Especially when I whip around and pick off the runner trying to steal second. I smile to myself and turn back toward home plate.

Two outs. Two strikes. One ball.

I’ve got this.

We dominated that fucking game. I stayed in through the seventh and only let one more run through. We won 6-3. It’s a high I’ve needed for a while, and a reminder that sometimes I’m way too hard on myself.

“Nice pitching,” Aaron says as I walk out of the clubhouse.

“Isn’t that Rae’s line for you?”

He laughs. “I didn’t even realize it when I said that.”

“Well, keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.”

“You’re hilarious. So, what’s up now? Want to grab some dinner?”

“Yes, but I have a thing. You’re welcome to come, but it might not be super fun.”

“What is it?”

“I’m meeting with the reporter who’s doing a profile on me. Emily.”

“How’s that going?” Aaron asks, amused.

“Fine.”

“That good, huh?”

“It is fine . I hate it though. I’m not good at opening up to random strangers, plus I feel like I always have to be a certain way or maintain a certain image. That extra focus on me has also had me more worried about my games. When I’m losing, I keep thinking I’ll be even more of a laughingstock. That her profile piece will be all about the pitcher who completely choked during his first season in the majors.”

Aaron stops and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Okay, I say this with love, but you’re not that important. You’re not choking. Every pitcher has good and bad games. And contrary to what you seem to believe, baseball is a team sport. Relax and let her see the guy who loves baseball and is living the dream of so many kids out there.”

I stare at him for a minute. “You’re annoying, but I’ve missed your wise prophetic shit.”

He grins at me. “Everyone needs a Gandalf to guide them on their journey.”

“Nevermind. I haven’t missed you at all .”

“I’m loving this dynamic. I’m seeing a whole other side of Jamie tonight,” Emily says to Aaron.

“This is the real him,” Aaron says easily. It must be nice to be an extrovert. To feel confident and easily talk with people. “It takes time for him to open up.”

Emily laughs. “For anything but baseball. If I get him going on baseball stats or trivia, he gets much more talkative.”

“Hey, I’m right here.”

“He likes to be the center of attention, he just doesn’t want to admit it,” Aaron stage whispers.

Emily stifles a laugh.

I do feel more at ease now though.

“Maybe we could do more of the interviews at home when Amanda is there. Aaron’s right. I open up more easily when I’m with people I know well.”

Emily nods. “I’m fine with that. I want you to be comfortable around me, Jamie, and not worry about this turning into some sort of negative piece.” I frown. Am I that obvious? “It’s been clear with your answers—especially after games you’ve lost—that you’re worried about that. You don’t need to be. This is a piece about you, and from everything I’ve seen, you have integrity and a drive to succeed. That is how I build my pieces—around who the athlete is and what pushes them forward. Anyone can look up stats. Not everyone can get an inside look at what makes professional athletes excel at what they do, but also be just like everyone else.”

Something about that relaxes me a little. Maybe if my agent had explained it that way, I wouldn’t have been so uncomfortable with this whole thing. Then again, expecting someone who lives and breathes business to easily articulate the artistic nuance of writing might be too much to ask.

“Thanks. I’ll work on relaxing more for our interviews.”

A waiter sets a steak in front of me and I sigh happily. This is the best I’ve felt in a long time. The only thing missing is Amanda. I can’t wait to tell her about the game.

For the first time in weeks, I feel like I’m on the right track again.

Amanda

Girls’ night was everything I needed and more.

I’d forgotten how lonely I used to feel before I met this crazy tribe. They changed me for the better, and being without them has been a struggle. I’m excited to go back to school simply because I’ll be a little more grounded. Sure, I’ve been here throughout the summer. I’ve supported my friends and we’ve had girls’ nights, but I’ve been spread so thin I haven’t enjoyed most of them the way I needed to. And I hadn’t let them in.

As much as I still suck at being vulnerable, that little breakdown with Hyla and Mackie today was necessary. All the girls have a way of making me feel safe, but Hyla and Mackie both excel at it. Hyla because she knows the difficulty of being vulnerable all too well, and Mackie because she knows me so well and she’s a quiet, thoughtful listener. She’s always paying attention but never pushes.

We came back to my place and the peace that washed over me the second I was inside was another boost. All the girls were here, and we got so much takeout from Marion’s Café—the definition of food cooked with love—and watched the baseball game.

It was good to see Jamie get a win, even if it made me feel a little guilty I wasn’t there. But I know how much I needed tonight. I have to hold on to the things that fulfill me, even if it means I’m not at every game.

I also need to take care of myself, as Hyla recommended. The girls left about an hour ago, and I’ve spent most of the time since researching therapists online. I knew finding one in person would be too chaotic with how much I’m going from place to place, so I went through multiple companies and profiles until I found one that sounded right for me, then I snagged the first available appointment, which is in a few days.

Now I’m waiting for Jamie to call. Rae told me earlier that Aaron had made the drive down to Philly for the game, and I’m glad. Jamie needs support from people other than me. His parents try to go when they can, but with three young kids, it’s difficult.

I’m exhausted, but forcing myself to stay up so I can hear about the game… and tell Jamie about my day. He’s not here to give me a hug—though I was craving that by the end of the night—but he knows how to reassure me and make me feel better, even from a distance. Hopefully, his meeting with Emily won’t go too much longer.

Needing a distraction, I put on my favorite season of Friends , determined to stay awake.

It’s twenty minutes later when Jamie finally calls.

“Hey, baby,” I answer. “Great game today.”

He makes a happy noise, and again a pang of guilt hits. I wish I was there with him. We haven’t gotten to celebrate enough lately.

“Thank you. Aaron gave me some good advice, and I think it helped.” He jumps in and tells me everything that happened from his point of view, and it’s refreshing to hear that happiness in his voice. As strange as it sounds, it feels nice to miss him too. Everything has either been chaotic or desperate. We haven’t had a chance to miss each other in a good way, and the coziness of how our relationship used to be wraps around me. How we used to talk half the night when I was at school. “It felt so good to finally get another win,” he says as he finishes telling me about it.

“You deserve it. I watched the whole game with the girls. I might’ve screamed when you had the 1-2-3 inning in the third.”

He chuckles. “Wish you could’ve been there. But I get why you weren’t. How was your meeting today?” he asks with a yawn.

That coldness runs through me again when I remember it. “Ah, not great.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” He yawns again. “Hold on a sec.” There’s a rustling sound, then he comes back on. “Just needed to get more comfortable. So, what happened?”

“Well, the girl I spoke with was lovely. And it actually really sucks because I wanted to plan her wedding. She’s my dream client. She was excited, had some great ideas, and really looked forward to working with me. Plus, it would’ve been my first queer wedding. But I just couldn’t do it. Because… the girl she’s marrying is”—I suck in a sharp breath as my voice breaks again—“Maci.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

“Jamie?”

I pull my phone from my ear to make sure the call is still connected, and it is.

“Jamie? Can you hear me?”

Then I hear a soft snore.

“Jamie!” I yell, but all I get in return is another snore.

And just like that, all the warm, fuzzy feelings slip away. I forced myself to stay up even though I was exhausted. I listened to him tell me all about the game, but he couldn’t even stay awake for a few more minutes to hear about my day?

I need my boyfriend right now, and he can’t be bothered to even try to be here for me. This is the worst day I’ve had in a long time, and… fuck.

That crushing feeling of being alone hits me all over again.

Part of me wants to hang up, but another part of me is just mad. Mad that once again, he couldn’t put me first, even for a few minutes.

“Today sucked,” I whisper into my phone. “And I really need you right now, and it pisses me off that you aren’t showing up for me.”

Tears stream down my cheeks as I continue talking, letting out every broken feeling as I tell him about what happened today, even though he won’t hear a word of it.