She’sstillthe girl next door. You see it in every interview she does, every video she puts out, and you hear it in every song she writes.
“Always good to see you, Waverly. I thought all my heroes were baseball players, but that was before I met you.”
I tuck the napkin into her jersey, resist the urge to pin her to the wall and kiss her until she can’t breathe and desperately needs to climb me and tear my clothes off in the nearest closet, and instead put my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants and head back down the hallway like I was never here.
I don’t know why she’s here.
I don’t know if any of that actually happened.
But there’s a pretty good chance this is the last time I’ll ever see her.
I have blown my last shot.
And I’ll be spending the rest of my day off getting drunk, and then getting her out of my head.
At least, that’s my plan until I turn the next corner.
And then—well, then, I don’t know if things get better or worse.
5
Waverly
“Oh my gosh,your barrette is the cutest! Do you love mermaids?” I smile at the wide-eyed little girl whoseWaverly’s Braveliesposter I’m signing at the edge of the baseball diamond at Duggan Field while the crew behind me regroups and repositions the lighting for the final sequence of the video we’re shooting here today.
Aunt Zinnia keeps circling past and making noises like I need to be involved in creative decisions about the shoot, but I’d rather talk to my fans.
Also, the last time I tried to help directorially, the video ended up as my most-commented-on YouTube video ever. And the comments are not glowing reviews.
People say much more when they don’t like something, and they didnotlike that video.
“Your earrings are pretty,” the girl whispers.
“Tell you a secret?” I whisper back.
She nods.
“They’reheavyand make my ears hurt sometimes. And I don’t think they go with my jersey at all, but smarter people than me said I should wear them, so I am.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Mommy says fashion isn’t worth it if it hurts.”
“Listen to your mommy.Always. She’s a very smart lady.”
“We’re ready for you, Waverly,” Hiramys says, suddenly at my side.
I smile one last time at the little girl, who’s probably eight or nine. “Stay true to yourself, okay, Olivia? Don’t let people make you wear heavy earrings unless you love them so much you can’t help yourself.”
“Thank you,” her mom says as I straighten.
“Thank you for coming.” I wouldn’t be here without my fans, and it’s the one thing I try to never, ever forget.
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Ilovedyour mom’s music, and now Olivia loves yours, and—I’m sorry. I’m rambling. You need to—”
She cuts herself off as Hiramys slips her arm through mine.
I smile and wave at Olivia, remind myself that I really have made my own career despite getting a leg up in the start because of who my mom was, and then it’s back to work.
Video shoot days are always long but totally worth it when we can pack the stands with members of my fan club. Today should be bonus fun—Levi Wilson and I teamed up for a duet on a song called “Always Play My Maybe,” and when he suggested we shoot the video at his favorite ballpark, I said yes before thinking it all the way through.
