I let out a breath of relief because there isn’t a sign at the end of the lawn. Maybe I scared the realtor off for good.
The walk to school goes by quickly. I pass by Mr. Campbell’s field, trying to calm my nerves the entire way, but my headache isn’t helping. The pounding sensation accompanies every other step as if it’s following a beat.
I squint, looking forward, down the road as the sun hits my back, warming my sweater and forcing me to acknowledge its presence. I don’t remember the forecast calling for sun. I thought it was supposed to be dreary all week.
It isn’t long before I make it to the school’s entrance. It’s swarmed with cars arriving and students. Thankfully no one stares at me as I walk closer. Maybe everyone is just going to continue ignoring me and pretend yesterday never happened.
I’d prefer that.
Ahead of me, the sun shines down on a boy with curly dark hair. His unmistakable posture—one shoulder slightly lower than the other and his hands in his pockets—makes it impossible for me to breathe.
I halt and a rock sinks to the bottom of my stomach. I’m going to be sick.
In front of me stands my enemy. The person I hate most in this world.
My heart speeds up and sweat coats my forehead in an instant. How is this possible? He’s in prison. Or at least, he’s supposed to be.
And yet, mere feet away from me stands Myles Green.
5
MYLES
April 3rd, 2024
“Where’ve you been?” Sam asks, draping his arm around my shoulders as I walk toward the front of the school.
Samir Kumar was the first friend I made after Emma. We met on the first day of high school when I caught him reading a special edition copy ofLeague of Lost, one of my favorite comic books, hidden behind his textbook.
He came over that day and we hung out, talking about comics and video games. I felt so out of place when I started high school without Emma because she was the one who did all the talking. But she was a grade behind me, still in middle school, which meant I was on my own for the first time.
Sam was kind of like her. He loved to talk, and I liked that about him.
But I’ve never been able to open up to him, or anyone for that matter, the same way I did with Emma. There’s a part of me that’s afraid to let someone in because what if they push me away too?
I fall into step with Sam and shrug. “Around.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s all I get? Come on, man. You missed movie night and you’re not going to tell me why?”
Knowing Sam, he probably invited the whole baseball team over, and if it was anything like his other parties I’ve been to, I bet they spent hours playing video games and stayed up way too late. I won’t lie, I wish I had been there.
“Trust me, you weren’t missing out,” I say.
He lowers his voice. “Did something happen? You look off.” He pauses, staring me down, and lowers his voice. “Don’t tell me your mom found out.”
Last year I tore my UCL in the middle of a game. I’d been feeling pain in my arm for weeks, but I couldn’t stop practicing. I had just made varsity and I was determined to prove myself. Mom took me to the doctor and even though he told me I needed to rest, I couldn’t bring myself to tell my coach. Not when it was my first varsity game and I had so many people expecting me to pitch.
A sharp pain shot through my arm as I threw the ball, and in an instant I watched the game I loved slip through my fingers. I couldn’t finish the rest of the season and I had to get surgery because the tear was so bad.
Mom still hasn’t forgiven me for hurting myself. I begged and pleaded with her all summer to let me play again after the doctor cleared me, but she refused to sign the consent form. This is my senior year, so if I don’t play, I can kiss the chances of getting a baseball scholarship goodbye.
Mom doesn’t understand how badly I need to be on the field. It’s so much more than a sport to me. It’s more than running outside from base to base or hitting the ball. It’s the only thing I have left of my dad.
My dad loved baseball. Even though I was young, Iremember playing catch with him and going to baseball games. We’d sit on the bleachers, eating hot dogs and cheering on his favorite team. He taught me how to hold a bat and how to pitch. It was our thing.
But after he died, Mom moved us across the country and everything I had of my dad was left behind. It was like she was running away because his memories made her so sad.
She’s doing better now. She’s spent the last few years “finding” herself again. She even started dating, but I didn’t think anything of it until she introduced me to Adam. The whole time they dated, I told myself she wouldn’t replace Dad, but then she did. The recent wedding is proof.
