“Nah, you’re doingeverythingright.”
“So are you, Callie. So are you.”
Chapter Thirty
Zade
I left Callie’s the next two mornings in a better mood than when I’d gotten there. I wasn’t sure if I’d entirely won my case that it was okay to stay there more than two nights a week. She’d melted in my arms when I’d asked if I could come back later, so I called it a win.
Our house changed to a sullen and stifling mood. Aaron wanted us to continue on as if things were ‘normal’ but that wasn’t possible. He’d lost his spark and was glued to his phone. I didn’t blame him. I’d have handled it even worse if it were my sister or mom. He hadn’t touched a drink since he’d gone home and if there was any silver lining, it was that. I walked into the house and found him watching ESPN with a blank stare. “Hey, man.”
“Hey. How’s Callie?” His eyes were sad and red. He admitted he’d barely slept the past nine days. “Did you see Greta? I haven’t told her yet and I haven’t responded to any of her texts. I don’t know what to say.”
“They’re doing good. Worried about you, though. Greta asked me if you were okay and I told her some bullshit excuse about school work or something. I don’t think she believed me, though.” I enjoyed seeing a small smile on Aaron’s face.
“She texted me last night and said she’s there for me. It meant a lot.” He sighed and went back to watching the TV. “They’re good people.”
“Yeah. They’re good people.” I joined him in watching baseball highlights. “Are you going to tell them?”
“At some point, yeah. But I’m trying to figure out how to continue living a normal life. My mom thinks I can just…be here and enjoy college. I feel guilty if I even have a moment of joy. My dad…god. You saw him. He’s broken.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I couldn’t talk to him without breaking down.”
“I’m know I’m not your parents, but your mom is right. You need to try and enjoy what you can here. Life is way too short, man. Your dad wouldn’t want you suffering. You need to be strong, tough and bring laughter and shit to people. That’s why you’re damn important to our team. Jeff, he leads with a calming presence. He’ll make the calls and be the silent strength. Tanner uses his quick brain and speed to help us. I throw okay now and again, but Aaron, you are instrumental in our success.”
His eyes lit up and he nodded, clearly wanting me to continue. I didn’t talk a lot about emotions. I was a broody, temperamental pitcher, but my role had begun to shift. I needed to be a leader on and off the field. I’d never had the urge to lead, per se, besides throwing well. But now, it felt right. “You play the game like it’s the best thing in the world. You fucking love it. You shake off errors like it’s no big deal, which, let me tell you, takes a hell of a lot of talent. You laugh and cause shenanigans in the dugout. You make the tough losses a little less tough. I know when I get a homerun hit off me and I want to kill someone, you come up to me and say the stupidest fucking thing, but it works. I need you on the field. You need us now.”
He swallowed. I continued. “You need to do that for your family. You relieve tension and make people laugh. Your mom and sister, hell, your dad, too, they needthatAaron.”
He shied away from me when I finished. I let him react to the words I didn’t know I had inside me. I clapped him on the back. “You’ll get there, to that place again. Take your time, though. It’s a lot to handle, your dad and family. But let us know what we can do to help.”
I headed to my room to actually do some homework that I’d avoided the past week and an idea came to me. The half marathon. We raised money and now… Now if I managed to get more people to run it and raise awareness, we might be able to donate to cancer research.Yes!A wave of purpose and excitement ran through me and I called my coach.
“Yeah?” he barked instead of a nice hello.
“Coach, it’s Willows. I have an idea to help Aaron.” I shut the door to my room and told him my idea and plan. He agreed and got it into full motion. I went online and began researching different products and ways to raise money. I couldfinallyhelp Aaron’s family.
* * * *
We had a team meeting Wednesday. We were told to show up in running clothes and be early. All of us were there before Aaron, per the plan. Coach saw me and came up to me to clap my back. “This is good of you, Z. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, but, it’s all for Aaron.” Jeff joined us with a grin and wearing the shirt we’d had made. It wasn’t anything special, just saidWe play for him.It had Aaron’s dad’s initials on a baseball and no one besides us knew what it meant. Coach told us everything. He announced it in a somber tone and the pride I felt for my team overwhelmed me. The seniors stood up and made speeches about how to support him. Freddie, the starting third basemen and captain, explained what he’d gone through with his aunt. And Max stood up and told us about his cousin.
None of us had known all the suffering we each had in our families and it opened my eyes. We’d gotten along before as a team, but not like this. This bond went beyond teammates. The new recruits, freshmen who were cocky as hell, kept their heads down, at a loss. Max and Freddie threw out the shirts Jeff and I had designed and ordered overnight. We all put them on and coach broke down the training schedule for the half marathon, which had become a team requirement.
“We’ll start raising money tomorrow. Today, today is about Aaron and supporting him. Now, news might break because people can never keep their mouths shut, but right now is the first step in our journey this year.” He put one foot on the bench, meeting every one of our eyes. “It isn’t the success that shows real character of people. It’s moments like this that define us. What do we do when our teammates, our family, our friends need us? Do we run and cower? Do we avoid them with the fear of saying the wrong thing? No. If you’re on my team, you won’t do that. We come together. We use one another to build him up.”
We nodded something fierce. We heard Aaron come into the locker room and we waited. Waited until he came into view and saw us all wearing our shirts and the stupid wristbands that coach had ordered and I almost broke down when his jaw began to shake. No one made a move and I fought the urge I had to swallow down the pain. I went up to him and hugged him.
Then Jeff did.
Then Tanner did.
The rest of the team followed and, when we’d all had our moment with him, coach went up and did the same thing. “Now, go run seven miles. Z, you lead the team. You’ve been training longer. I don’t want to see any of you in here until you’re done. And Aaron, every cent we raise is going to cancer research.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Thank your teammates. Now, get out.” He walked out and I led the team to go run seven miles. Sweating out emotions had never felt so fucking good.
* * * *
