I poured myself a whiskey sour and resigned myself to an uncomfortable open-mic night. I never minded attention and sometimes I even enjoyed it. I had no doubt I wouldn’t enjoy it tonight, though. Since the news about Aaron and I dating had broken, students I’d never met said hello to me. Girls were torn between high-fiving me or punching me in the cooter. Aaron had been a celebrity here, still was, and I’d ‘taken him’ from the other girls.Fuck that. He belongs to no one. Goddamn cleat chasers.
There were still a handful of patrons in the normally booming bar. Maybe twenty people sat in the various dimly lit booths. The dark would help. I could sing if I knew a crowd wasn’t gawking at me.
One of the band guys, this one with a long dark beard, nodded at me when I got on stage. The shorter one with Clark Kent glasses held out his hand. “Hi. I didn’t know you played, too.”
I shook it with an amused expression. “Yup. Surprise.”
“Claude said he messed up scheduling and hoped we could split the night with you. We got paid and are heading out now. Sorry if we angered ya,” Clark Kent said with a wide smile. He was cute—a little dorky, but still cute. I grinned like it was no big deal and I wasn’t playing into my manipulative boss.
“Don’t even worry about it. Not a big crowd tonight anyway. Get out now before it gets super quiet and weird.” I took a sip of my drink and fanned my lashes at them. Call it cocky or just self-aware, but I knew they were affected by my looks. They blushed, the bearded one looking at the ground before meeting my eyes. I put my hand on the shorter one’s forearm. “Would either of you mind if I borrowed your guitar for a song or two? I’m chickening out. I thought—” I paused for effect. “I thought I could handle just singing, but now I’m flustered.”
“Of course. It’ll take us a bit to load up our stuff. Have at it.” Clark Kent handed me his acoustic. I took it and thanked him with promises for free drinks. He blushed, his hand now resting on my arm. They left me with smiles and I had no choice but to take the seat on stage. I tuned the guitar to a key I liked and began with an old acoustic version of one of my favorite Rolling Stones songs. I closed my eyes and strummed and sang. When I performed, or sang, I got lost in my thoughts. It was pure bliss where nothing could touch me. I escaped from worrying about my future, Aaron, my lack of love life, my failures, my parents’ finances, and I just played.
Chapter Six
Aaron
My thighs burned. Sweat poured down my back. Heat seemed to rise from the ground and someone was cutting grass. This was my favorite thing in the entire world. The smell. The air. The motions. It calmed me when the world seemed to spin faster.
“Get your head out of your ass. Take more. Move faster. Let’s go!” Coach barked at me. I didn’t have time to react before I heard the spin of the ball coming at me. I didn’t think. I reacted.
I dove to the right, trapping the ball in my glove and whipping it to first from my knees. He nodded in approval and I ate it up. A nod was enough from him—it was practically a standing ovation.
“Nice one,” Jeff yelled from behind home plate, adorned in his catching gear. “Keep that shit up next game, eh?”
“Ten dollars I will,” I shouted back, the guys around me laughing. They all knew Jeff and I were friends, but they also knew we gave each other shit any chance we got. “Let’s amp it up. For every pass ball you get, you have to call me Captain.”
“Fuck that.”
“Gentlemen! Unless you want to run the rest of practice, focus,” Coach hollered, bringing us back to the present. Jeff and I shared a look, though. The bet was on. We took hundreds of grounders and ran through plays I had dreamed about since I was six. Sweat poured out of us as the Midwestern sun and humidity did its damage. By the time we’d finished practice, I’d passed exhaustion hours ago.
“I’m so fucking thankful we got the weekend free. I needed those three days.” Jeff put his hand on my shoulder and patted me in his motherly way. He took the team captain role to heart and, although I would never tell him, I admired the hell out of him. His upbeat attitude kept our team together. “You did good, Hilly.”
“Thanks. I felt fucking good.” I chugged a water and saw Tanner walking up to us. “How’s your arm doing, Tan?”
“No pinching. No pain. I’m all good, baby!” His grin took up his entire face and he looked way too damn chipper after the killer of a practice we’d just had. “I’m ready to party and start my junior year with a bang.”
“Yeah? What you thinking?” Jeff looked on, a smile forming. “It’s been a while since we went to one. That okay, Hilly?”
I knew he was asking because he cared. I shrugged. “Ain’t no thang.”
“Hell, yeah.” Jeff and Tanner fist-bumped and hollered over to Zade. He was getting his arm stretched by our trainer, Nicole. I saw Callie walk by a couple of times, but she had her hands full every time. If anyone would’ve pinned down Zade, it was Callie. “Z!”
He looked up and shook his head, pointing to Nicole. We all laughed. She was a little, strong woman with short hair. She loved her family more than anything in the world and we were terrified of her. If she said no eating potatoes and one of us did, she would know. And when a player lied to her… I cringed. She would make him pay majorly for it. I heard a rumor one time that a freshman snuck soda into the dugout. She laughed while she made him run five minutes on the highest speed. She was wicked.
“You sure you’re okay with us going to a party?” Jeff asked, a little while later after we’d all showered. “I know we talked about not throwing them. But I’m itching for a drink and bad decisions.”
“Bro, don’t worry about it. My head is in a different place now. I’m good with it.” I hit his back this time. “I appreciate it, though, you asking me.”
“Any word from Coach about your scholarship?”
I clutched the water bottle tighter. “He confirmed I won’t be losing it yet. We aren’t in season. I’m twenty-one. The one picture, you know which one, can’t prove it’s me. If I have a slap on the wrist, I’ll be suspended for a third of the season.”
His eyebrows came together tight, as if he was in pain, and I felt a sense of loyalty that couldn’t be faked. “God. I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“I’ve accepted what it is.” I lied. I still slept like shit and thought about sayingfuck itevery second. “I’ll hang with Greta tonight. You guys go out.”
“Okay, well, catch ya later, man.” He took off and I laughed. His attempt at finding a girlfriend had blown up and it was funny as hell. He didn’t realize a guy had to be monogamousandtruthful during the process. I shook my head.What a dumbass.
