The guy flips up his aviators to the top of his head and holds out his hand, his blue eyes crinkling at the corner. “East, then. We’re obviously going to be friends.” That’s when recognition hits.
“Oh, shit,” I say. “You’re Shane Michaels.” He’s a fucking killer shortstop. Played for the Florida Gators and went in the third round of the draft. We never played against each other, but I’ve watched some of his games.
That toothy grin flashes again. “The one and only.” He waves his hand that’s still waiting for me to shake it.
Right.Be human, East.“Nice to meet you.” I shake his hand. I should probably just get this over with. “I’m a little awkward, but I promise I’m normal.”
“Eh,” he says. “Be awkward, Cowboy. Normal is so overrated.”
Shit. Did I just gain the nickname Cowboy? And do I kind of like it? All I know is the tightness in my gut is gone. I think me and this Shane guy will get along just fine. Plus, I’m also a huge 2000s punk rock junkie. I get into the passenger side of the jeep and snag my sunglasses out of my backpack.
With my shades on, I feel a bit more confident, kind of like I have a mini shield on. Shane pulls out of the pickup lane.
“I’m mostly normal when it comes to baseball,” I say. “I’m just not the best with social situations outside of baseball.”
He glances at me quickly, the sun reflecting off his aviators, before his stare is back on the road. “Well, I’d say they paired us well then. Charisma is my middle name. I’m a fucking social butterfly. To the point, I’m probablytoo much. Pretty sure my teammates wanted to bash me over the head with their bats because I wouldn’t shut up.”
“Well, I did pack earplugs. So, I’ll just stick those in if you get to be too much.”
He barks out a laugh. “Awkward, but feisty. I like it, Cowboy.”
I shake my head, a breath of laughter escaping me. I think we’re going to get along just fine. “Lost in Stereo” by All Time Low comes on.
“Shit. You’re an All Time Low fan too?”
He holds up his fist. “Fuck yes, I am.”
I dab him.
“Think we may have just become best friends, Cowboy,” he says, his grin flashing even from his profile.
I relax further into the seat and let my free hand play in the wind whipping through the open Jeep. The golden Florida sun and the wild wind swirling around me soak into my skin and settle in my chest. We spend the rest of the drive sharing small talk, getting to know each other a bit, bonding over our similar taste in music. There’s a twinge of homesickness in my chest as we discuss bands, a reminder of Maddy. Comfort shadowed by a pang of melancholy.
Shane fills me in on our other roommates, Mark Phillips and Carlos Rosario. I’m the last to arrive in our apartment. I tap out responses to my mom and Shelby, who’ve texted back to wish me luck and call when I get a chance.
Half an hour later we’re pulling to a stop in front of a half-brick, half-beige-stucco apartment building. It’s slightly worn, clearly nothing fancy, but I’ll take it. It wasn’t that long ago that the minor leagues didn’t provide housing at all for their players. Shane tosses me a key, and my hand whips out to snatch it.
“Nice reflexes, Cowboy.”
“What kind of ballplayer would I be if I couldn’t catch?” I wing a brow, and he shoots me that surfer grin.
“Touché. We’re in 2B. Come on, I’ll show you the digs and introduce you to the other draftees. There are eleven us put up here. The last three are arriving in the next couple days.”
“Sounds good. Lead the way.” I like this Shane guy. I can see why the team agreed to let him pick me up. He has a natural leader quality to him. And I know he’s a hell of a ballplayer. I’m looking forward to playing with him.
My phone lights up, and my gaze snaps to it. I swipe open the screen and tap my text messages. My chest deflates a little. Another text from Mom. Still nothing from Maddy. He hasn’t responded even though it’s been on read since we pulled out of the airport. I’m sure he’s busy.
I switch over to my photo gallery and tap the Meast folder. The smile that splits my face is instant as I swipe through the photos of me and Maddy, like I so often find myself doing. Just like that, everything turns warm, light, and full of promise. My little dose of happy.
“You coming, Cowboy?” Shane calls.
I quickly pocket my phone and hurry after him.
I can’t wait to fill Maddy in on everything.
five
Maddox
