I smother a smile. “Are you making fun of my rules?”
“Would I do that?” His face is the picture of innocence. Up close like this, I decide he’s less overwhelming. Easier to handle one feature at a time. Eyes. Nose. Mouth. A tiny scar at the edge of his eyebrow. Nothing all that special. “I’m making a new rule. No making fun of the rules.”
“Why do you get to make all the rules?”
“Because I’m the brains of this operation.”
His smile sends tingles down to my clunky sandals. “Does that mean you like the idea?”
“It means we might win this thing.”
There’s a sudden loud cheer and we both turn to see what happened.
“Walk off double,” Tucker cries. “D-Backs win.”
“How about that?” Garrett says. He pushes to his feet for the replay.
I scramble up, too, and Garrett turns to me with the grin I’m expecting. “And that’s another thing I love about baseball. Number seventeen on my list. Comebacks.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say. “Study the stats, Blondie. Comebacks only happen about thirty percent of the time.” But I can’t hold on to my scowl—not when he’s smiling at me like that. Like he’s having the best time. Like we’re having the best time together.
A flush burns through my cheeks. He’s a baseball player. Even if he is a nice guy, he’s as wrapped up in the game as my dad ever was. Nothing and no one will ever be as important. And I know better than to be feeling like this. “I gotta go.”
“Already?”
“School tomorrow.” Weak, but also true.
“You want to ask Mai if she’ll do it for us?”
“I’ll ask her later.” I turn to the patio door and tug open the sliding glass.
She’s sitting on a cushy chair facing Anthony. She’s got the bag of Cheetos in one hand and her feet on Anthony’s lap. His hand is resting on her ankle. It’s a strange sight—her petite foot and his rough fingers, the thick metal chain hanging from his wrist. I’m struck with the thought that neither of us is safe.
“We need to get going,” I tell her.
She pulls her feet down and slides them into her flip-flops. Her fingers are bright orange as she leaves the Cheetos in Anthony’s lap. “See you at school.”
“I’ll look for you,” he says, smiling.
Talk about alternate universe.
Garrett walks us to the door. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yep, see you tomorrow.”
When we reach the truck, he’s still standing there, silhouetted by the screen. My heart pounds like it wants out. Like it wants him.
I look at my best friend and sigh. “I’m in deep shit, Mai.”
She nods. “So am I.”
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, I make my usual late entrance to the kitchen and find Mom standing at the counter, sipping coffee and looking through her calendar.
“Sleep well?” she asks. She watches as I head for the fridge and the orange juice. If she was worried that a night with the baseball team would change me, she has to be relieved. I generally pull on whatever tee is on top of the stack, but today I purposely chose my vintage Orange Crush that ought to be burned. It’s so faded, and does anyone really look good in orange? But I’m convincing her—and maybe myself—that I’m not dressing to impress anyone else.
“You okay?” she asks.
I pause to sigh. Loudly. “Are we playing Twenty Questions again?”
“I didn’t ask you twenty questions last night, and for the record, you gave me no answers.”
She’d been waiting when I got home and stopped an episode of The Great British Baking Show to ask, “So?” Even curled on the couch in pajamas, she still managed to look tense. Mom went through her own personal hell with my dad; I’m sure she was reliving all of it while I was at Jason’s house. She doesn’t want me to be a part of that world—neither do I. Yet there I was, and the worst part of it was I had a good time.
I had a good time. With baseball players.
A baseball player.
I pull a glass from the cabinet. Shocking, yes. Unthinkable two weeks ago, yes. But it was one effing baseball game on TV. I know who Garrett is and what he wants. I know what I want. This is a convenient arrangement for us both with an expiration date. Like a library book. You have fun while you’re reading but when you reach the end, the book goes back to the library.
“There isn’t anything to tell,” I say. “It was a bunch of guys watching baseball and girls talking about people I don’t know. Mai had Cheetos, which was probably the most exciting part of the entire night.”
“And Garrett Reeves?”
I pour juice in the glass, splashing a little on the counter. “You remember his name, huh?”
“I listened to one of your broadcasts online.”
My breath catches. “You did?”
“You two are a good team.”
I drag a finger through the juice on the counter and lick the tart orange flavor. “We are. On the air.”
“And off the air?”
I meet worried brown eyes. “Honestly, Mom. He’s a decent guy, but all he cares about is a future in baseball. I’m not going down that road. I know better.”
“I thought I did, too.” Her eyes get that unfocused, distant look. “I knew who your dad was before we met. He was the school’s star athlete and the girls were all crazy for him. But not me. I was more serious, focused on school. Then one day, I was walking back from the library during the middle of class. Your father was hanging out in the hall, ditching. I turned my nose up at that, until the minute he jogged to my classroom door and held it open. The way he looked at me…something in his eyes made me feel different. Special. My heart jumped so high in my throat, I couldn’t even say thanks.”
I shift to face her. “You never told
