Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Decent win, Maldonado.”
I groaned internally and pasted a smile on my face. “Um, thanks. I know we could be doing better, but—”
“We’re missing something.”
“Maybe it’s just taking a little longer to get into a groove, but we’ll get there.”
Coach Glenn was friendly…ish, but he was mostly intimidating. He was a fit, good-looking man in his mid-fifties with short, dark hair and green eyes. He’d played center field for the Padres in the eighties. He got called up to the big league a couple of times but when a hamstring injury sidelined his career, he became a coach. He’d been the head baseball coach at Chilton for ten years and had a stellar reputation. He’d taken us to the championships every year that I’d played. This was the first year we were questionable, and I’d bet anything he was about to infer that I was somehow responsible.
“Hmm. I’ll keep this as brief as possible. Something’s different with you, Maldonado, and I can’t put my finger on it. You’re playing at the top of your game. You hit home runs at will, your arm is more powerful than ever, and you cover your position better than most of your teammates can handle theirs.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He narrowed his gaze until his eyes looked like dark, beady marbles. “That’s what I’m asking you. You’re a vital part of the team, but you’re not engaging the way I’ve seen you in the past. I always thought of you as a leader, but you’re not leading. You’re doing your job and going home. You seem perfectly happy, so I’m going to assume there’s something personal going on with a girl or—”
“No.”
Coach observed me through hooded eyelids. “Okay. But the chemistry is off, and the only real change that I can detect is shortstop. I’ve mixed things up and the results are slightly better, but we aren’t as good without Jameson. So I gotta ask you…did something happen between you two?”
Oh. Fuck. I swallowed around the desert in my mouth and wondered how to reply. The short answer was yes, Sky Jameson was my boyfriend and he left me. The longer answer was way more information than Coach needed. So I lied.
“No. Why?”
“I want to get Jameson back.”
“Oh.” Gulp. “How?”
“Not sure. I don’t know if it’s possible to add him this far into the season, but I’m gonna see what I can do ’cause we could sure use the help.” Coach patted my back and stepped aside. “Have a good night, Maldonado.”
Fuck. Me. I swiped my hand over my jaw and barely resisted the urge to punch the brick wall. This could not be happening.
* * *
We didn’t have practice the following afternoon and I was very glad. I rarely said so, but I needed a break from baseball. Or maybe just from my teammates. Coach was right. Our chemistry was off. I thought about ways to improve it that didn’t involve Sky, but I came up blank. Maybe Minsky had the right idea. Everyone liked bowling and barbeques.
“Couldn’t hurt,” Christian agreed when I filled him in on the postgame discussion. “I wouldn’t worry about Sky. It’s too late for him to transfer back. There’s gotta be league rules about that kind of stuff.”
“Coach is a genius at pulling favors and making shit happen. I thought Micah was annoying, but he’s just a pest. Sky is a fucking nightmare.”
“Hey, relax. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Don’t worry about Sky. And guys like Micah are on every squad. Jonesie is ours on the football team. He’s a great guy but he can be a loose cannon. Especially when he’s mad at himself. I bet Micah will snap out of it once his game improves.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not just his game. He thinks I’m seeing a girl he likes.”
“Who?” Christian asked as he twisted the cap off his water bottle and sank into a corner of the sofa before setting his feet on the coffee table.
We’d gone to the gym together earlier…something we still did a couple of times a week. But usually, he was quick to shower and then get on the road to Long Beach to hang out at Rory’s. He looked like he was settling in for the night. Not okay.
“Phoenix’s twin sister.”
“Where did he come up with that?”
“Javi and circumstantial evidence I can’t refute without making things weird,” I said.
“ ‘Refute.’ That’s a good word,” he teased, reaching for the Xbox controller.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you gonna go?”
Christian cocked his head and frowned. “Go where?”
“To Rory’s.” I twisted my wrist to read a new message when my smartwatch buzzed. “If you go now, you’ll miss traffic.”
He barked a quick laugh and dropped the controller before shifting to get a better look at me. “No, I’ll sit in a fuckton of traffic. I was going to wait an hour.”