“You shouldn’t even be on the field! A monkey could play better ball than you, Stricklan! Hey, Coach! Get this loser out of here!”
I try to keep my eyes on the field, but when I hear other parents start to yell, I can’t help but turn and look. My grandfather and Atlas’s dad have grabbed ahold of my father’s arms and are dragging him from the stands. I follow them with my gaze until they disappear around the bleachers. When I move to turn back to the game, my eyes clash with a pair of furious green ones belonging to Atlas’s little sister for a beat. She looks downright murderous and it shocks the hell out of me because I’ve never seen an angry expression on her face. My skin flushes even redder in embarrassment that so many people have witnessed the hell that’s my father. I meet my pitcher’s gaze, give a nod and focus back on the game.
We squeaked out a win by one run, no thanks to me. I played like shit after my dad showed up and was never able to get my head back into the game after he was dragged away.
“Hey, man, shake it off.” Atlas stops by where I sit on the bench with his bag slung over his shoulder. “You want a ride to my place? Mom says dinner is early tonight. She’s got book club or something.”
I rub at the back of my neck to try and ease some of the tension there and shake my head.
“Nah, can’t make it this week. Tell her I said thanks, though.”
He frowns down at me like he knows I’m full of shit but thankfully lets it go. As much as I love Atlas’s family, I just can’t face them after his dad had to drag my own father out. I take my time filling my bag with equipment, my head ducked down so I don’t have to meet anyone else’s eyes, not able to handle the pitying looks I know will be sent my way. Coach does me a solidby passing by with only a squeeze of my shoulder before leaving me alone with my misery.
I hate him. Probably as much as he hates me, except my hatred comes from the way he’s treated me all my life. From how he’s placed the blame of my mom’s death on my shoulders, like I had any say in her dying from complications during my birth.
In a furious burst of rage, I punch the chain link fencing that encloses one end of the dugout. Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him! I whirl around to snag my bag and leave, coming to a jarring stop when I find myself face-to-face with Luna. I try to smash down the anger still coursing through me but it is simmering under the surface and leaks out into my tone.
“What are you doing here? I told your brother I can’t make it to dinner tonight.”
She tilts her head to the side and narrows her pretty green eyes at me while making a “Mm-hmm” noise. She steps right into my space and places her small hand, palm flat, in the center of my chest.
“Give it to me.”
My hand comes up to cover hers with the intention of moving it off of me but she snaps at me.
“Stop it. Give it to me. Give me all the anger, the fury, and anything else you’re feeling right now. Just push it out of your chest against my hand.”
“What are you even talk…”
“Shut up and give it to me, Gage!”
The hard tone she uses is such a surprise and I’m already so close to the edge of losing it that I stop talking and snap. I do exactly what she asks. I let the rage, the embarrassment, and also the sorrow I feel whenever I deal with my father flow right up against her hand and push. I push all of that toxic energy right into her hand like it will make any kind of difference because I’m hurting so much right now that I’m willing to letsomeone else take some of it just so I don’t feel so goddamn alone.
I glare at her as I push that shit right out at her and see her eyes flare wide in surprise and then harden with determination. I don’t know how long we stand there staring into each other’s eyes but when I blink back into awareness, I feel the sting of tears. The anger is mostly gone when she drops her hand from my chest. All I feel is tired but also… lighter somehow.
I have to clear my throat a few times before I can ask her, “What… I mean, how, how did you learn to do that?”
She shrugs one shoulder and a small grin forms on her pink lips.
“Well, I was bored the other day so I picked up one of my mom’s new age, mystical woo-woo books and there was this chapter about something called channeling. Who knew it would actually work? So freaking weird, right?”
I can’t help the laugh that barrels out of me at her unexpected answer. She laughs right along with me and I feel the rest of the tension flow out of me by the time we sober up. She gets serious again and reaches for my hand.
“Let me tell you something that I know for sure works, though. It’s a lesson in perspective that can really help.”
She lifts my hand and moves my thumb and pointer finger into position like I’m going to pinch something and then makes them almost touch.
“See the distance between your thumb and finger? That’s this moment, this week, this year, that’s all it is. All that nasty you just went through that felt so big, like it was your whole existence? It’s just this moment in time. Now spread your arms out as far as you can. Go ahead and do it.”
I humor her and lift my arms up and spread them as far as I can stretch. She nods knowingly.
“Yeah, that right there is your whole life span. Don’t let that little pinch of time overtake the rest of it. This moment will be gone and all the crap that’s in it will be gone too, so you know, just let it go. You have this huge life to live, never lose sight of this being one small moment in it.” She offers me a sad smile. “He only has what power you give him, Gage. Stop caring about him and you’ll stop being hurt by him. You’re allowed to do that. Blood doesn’t make a family, love does.”
I slowly start nodding with her as I let my arms drop. She’s right. All this shit with my dad is going to end because I can end it. I can stop caring about him and all the shit he pulls. I can take away the power he has over me at any time and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“How did you get so smart, Luna?”
She smirks and reaches down to snag the strap of my bag and grunts at the weight.
