In the locker room, Coach gives his normal speech, but I tune him out entirely. I put on my uniform pants and cleats as the team gets amped up to play. The noise of the pre-game rituals settles my racing thoughts. I pull on a Scorpions T-shirt in place of my jersey. I desperately wish I could play tonight, but at least sitting on the bench will help keep me occupied.
Jules approaches as we’re getting ready to head out to the field. “Are you going out with Trav and the guys tonight?” Jules and Travis became friends through me, and he’s always eager to head out, especially in San Francisco.
“Yeah. You and AJ should come. If you hit a dinger, your drinks are on me for the night,” I challenge. His eyes light up at the prospect, as I knew they would.
“Bet, bro,” he says, clapping me on the back. “AJ! Molina’s buying us drinks tonight,” he shouts across the room to his best friend. He’s met with cheers from AJ as we head out to the field.
Jules ends up going three for three at the plate, with two doubles and a three-run home run. Between his bat and the stellar pitching staff, the Sea Scorpions pull out the first win of the series. Everyone is hyped as they filter to the dugout to droptheir gear. Normally, we’d be heading to the locker rooms to shower, change, and do some media interviews, but both teams are staying to watch the fireworks.
The Grizzlies’ staff passes out blankets to both teams, and we make our way back out to the outfield to watch the show. AJ and Jules follow me over to where Travis and a few of his teammates are sprawling out in centerfield.
“Good game, Morrow,” Jules offers as we get situated in the grass. AJ and Julian wrestle for spots on the blanket they intended to share, so I shift closer to Travis while they roll around like children to get the bulk of the blanket.
“Thanks, Jules. Your bat was hot tonight. Hope you can keep it that way.” My old roommate winks at Julian and shifts, gesturing for me to sit next to him. Once I’m situated with my legs sprawled out in front of me, leaning back on my elbows, Travis gets comfortable with his head in my lap. “Like old times.” His green eyes sparkle in the stadium lights as he smiles up at me.
The stadium lights flicker off, and the electric hum of the crowd turns into raucous shouts and cheers. Both teams join in, adding to the cacophony of noise as the first blast of fireworks appears overhead. Upbeat pop music blares through the stadium, and a few of the guys light sparklers and chase each other around the bases. The energy from both teams brings back memories of playing rec ball when baseball was just fun and not work. There weren’t contracts and crushing expectations. Even the town rivalries were different. I mindlessly thread my fingers through Travis’s hair as we take in the scene around us.
“Do you miss it?” I ask my best friend, with no further clarity.
“Miss what?” I feel him look at me, but I keep my eyes on the show above our heads. No matter how old I get, I’ll always marvel at fireworks.
“When baseball was just fun. When life was easier,” I reply, watching the bursts of red, white, and blue cascade out in the sky and fade to the ground below.
“I remember when you used to think this was fun. You lived for the challenge. If you’re not happy, you need to figure out how to fix that, Dare.” Travis’s words settle in my chest, and I know he’s right. I feel like I’ve been coasting since October, and I need to change that.
I don’t answer him right away. I do love the pressure and challenge of the sport. I count myself as very lucky to play the game I love and get paid to do it. Somewhere along the line, I let what happened with Harlan seep into every aspect of my life. “You’re right,” I admit. “I do still love it. I miss playing so much, but right before the injury, I felt so burnt out. I don’t even think it was from the game, though. It was life. The breakup seriously fucked me up, Trav.” I continue to play with his hair as the celebration goes on around us.
“You’ll figure it out, D,” he promises with more confidence than I have. I smirk at the nickname only he uses. “Healing takes time.” I don’t ask him how much time. I’m not sure anyone can answer that question.
AJ, Jules, and I skip taking the team’s bus back to the hotel in favor of getting a ride with Travis. Driving through the streets of San Francisco, the three of them discuss the season and general gossip of the league while I take in the vibe of the city. I’m still thinking about my conversation with Travis during the fireworks when he navigates into a parking space. Loud music and boisterous voices carry through the street as soon as I open my door. I don’t much feel like socializing tonight, but it’s so rare to be in the same city as my best friend, so I can’t bail.
“Dare, where is your head at?” AJ falls in step next to me while Travis and Julian horse around up ahead. “You’ve seemed distracted lately, and the guys are worried about you.”
I catch his sidelong glance as we approach the festival that’s still in full swing even at this late hour. “Sorry, I know. Things have been weird with Jas and me. I kinda fucked up and called him Harlan when I was on those pain meds.” I wince, and AJ lets out a disapproving noise. “I know, bro. Obviously, I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Yeah, that’s rough. I’m not sure how to come back from that one,” he replies apologetically. We glance around at the tents and tables set in front of businesses filled with food and drinks. As if on cue, Jules races up to us like an eager puppy.
“You promised us drinks, Darío,” he declares. He actually bounces on his feet when he sees a tent advertising a local brewery. “That one! We want drinks from there!” I laugh in spite of my mood because being around Jules, you can’t help but appreciate the excitement he exudes over the smallest things. His eyes, a confusion of brown and hazel, are dancing as he attempts to take in everything happening around us.
“Ok, ok,” I laugh. “I always keep my promises.” Once I’ve confirmed everyone’s order, I get in line for the drinks. A loud chorus of cheers erupts, and I hear Travis’s name being shouted, and it makes me glad I’m not recognized. He waves to the fans decked out in Grizzlies’ gear, likely having come from the game themselves. I’m immediately impressed by the bartenders who have the line moving quickly. In no time, I find myself at the front, placing an order for four of their IPAs on tap.
Stepping out of line, I search for my friends, but they aren’t where they were just a few minutes ago. Balancing a tray of beers with my hand in a cast isn’t exactly easy, so annoyance flares at being abandoned. It’s an effort to keep from being jostled in the crowd of people, but it shouldn’t be difficult to find three baseball players when they are all over six feet tall. I cross the street toward a brightly colored, brightly lit tent that seems to be selling frozen rainbow drinks before I catch sight of Travis.
Getting closer, I see Julian with his arms wrapped around someone. Once I realize who it is, I nearly drop the tray of drinks. Harlan is here. In San Francisco. Nothing about that is computing in my brain. I watch Jules set him down, and even though I can’t hear him, I know he’s firing off a million questions at Harlan. AJ approaches them just as I reach Travis’s side.
“Why is he here?” I ask Travis, as if he’d have the first clue what Harlan is doing in the US, let alone at the same festival we’re at. My heart is in my throat as I watch my friends talk to my ex-boyfriend, who is supposed to be in London. Harlan’s eyes dart in my direction, going wide when he makes eye contact. AJ steadies him with an arm around his waist.
Travis grabs the tray of drinks from my hand before the shaking causes me to drop them. “Hey, D. Are you ok?” I give him a sharp nod, though I’m not sure I am. Of all of the cities in the world, how are we both standing on the same street right now?
Sittingthrough that game was the longest few hours of my life. When I asked Oliver this morning who the Grizzlies were playing, he smiled and said the Sea Scorpions. This man obviously didn’t do any homework on me at all. I’m sure the color drained from my face, because within seconds, he was up from his seat at the table and kneeling next to me. “Harlan, what is it?”
“It’s nothing. It’s fine,” I squeak. Clearing my throat, I try to sound more convincing. “I really am fine. I just…my ex plays for the Sea Scorpions.”
It was Oliver’s turn to look horrified. “Oh my god. I’m such a fucking idiot. I didn’t know. I should have realized. We don’t have to go, baby. I am so sorry.”
I rush to reassure him. “No, don’t do that. I didn’t tell you who my ex was. There was no way for you to know.” I don’t mention that he knew I was living in Brooklyn and that Idid,in fact, tell him I had dated an MLB player. I believe him when he says he didn’t know. “We can go, Oli. Seriously.”
When they announced the lineup at the game and Darío’s name wasn’t on the roster, I was confused. I’ve actively avoided keeping up on his career. Not because I don’t care, but because hyper fixation is a bitch. As I’m mulling it over from my seat outside of the suite, I hear one of Oliver’s coworkers mention Dare’s fractured hand. I have to tap into the toolbox that Meg gave me to deep breathe until the urge to Google everything about his injury has passed. I don’t stop myself from casually eavesdropping on any conversations that come up about the Scorpions as we watch the game, however.
