“If you’re asking, pretty damn good.”
* * *
The smile on my face lasted me halfway home. It was way too easy to spend time with Chase. I’d also discovered more about Brandon and possibly learned that at least one other person besides Brandon’s mother knew about his paternity. Those were things I wanted to know, but I couldn’t completely shake the scummy feeling that accompanied me the rest of the way home because of how I’d learned them.
CHAPTER 13
Tournament days were good. They required complete focus, which was exactly what I gave. In the dugout, I was just another player getting the same speech from our coach as the girls on either side of me. He wasn’t my dad on game days, and I made sure to remember that. I did nothing that would single me out for correction, nothing that would necessitate a private talk after the game or later at home, good or bad. I played well, but my heart wasn’t in it the way it usually was. I didn’t know if I expected Dad to notice or not, but he didn’t seem to, and we still won the game.
I saw Nick afterward, but I made sure to dominate the conversation so as to avoid the chance he’d ask any more follow-up questions about my dad’s DNA results. I left him and Jessalyn talking about work and joined my sister.
Selena beat a drum solo on my shoulders as we walked to the cars. “You guys are killing it this season. You have a real shot at state, which, you know…” Her pause was unnecessary. Of course I knew. And just in case I forgot, my sister was there to remind me at every opportunity that she’d won two in a row.
I didn’t feel like enduring Selena’s thinly veiled bragging the whole way home, but anything was better than riding with my parents. “Are you coming home for a while or do you have to head back to U of A right away?”
“I can hang out a bit. Ride with me?”
I got into Selena’s car. And actually, she wasn’t that bad. With Dad out of the picture, we could talk about the game and not have the conversation be tainted.
“Sadie’s pitching really well.” She laughed to herself. “I think her curveball is better than mine.”
“It is.”
Selena’s eyes swung to me. “You’re supposed to say we’re both good.”
I canted my head against the window. “You already know you were the best, but Sadie’s curveball is sick. When she’s on, no one can hit it.”
“I know. Maybe she’ll give me a few pointers.”
“You don’t care about softball anymore.” I didn’t say it to be harsh; it was true, as far as I could tell.
Selena scoffed a little but kept her eyes on the road. “I care.”
Yeah, she cared enough to turn down an impressive athletic scholarship after Dad worked so hard to make sure colleges knew about her. I didn’t want to think about Dad, though, so I let it drop. But Selena didn’t.
“Do you know how many hours a week I spend in this car so I can drive to your games? It’s a lot, like a stupid lot, but I’m here. Okay, fine, I’d probably still be here if you were on the basketball team, but I’d enjoy it a lot less. I love watching you play this game. Don’t forget I’m a Fields too. Baseball is in our blood.”
Dad’s blood, she meant, but I ignored that for the moment. It was a drive, usually four hours round-trip even when our away games brought us closer to Tucson. I knew that; I loved her for that, even more because I’d thought she hated softball. “Then why did you quit? You don’t play at all anymore.”
“I play,” she said. “Intramural.”
“You turned down the chance to play for a Division I school so you could play intramural?” When she’d turned down the scholarship, she’d said it was because she was done with softball. I’d assumed she meant entirely. I couldn’t fathom why she’d choose to play intramural over college level. I couldn’t stop shaking my head, whereas Selena nodded and smiled.
Glancing at me, she sighed like she shouldn’t have to explain something that was so obvious to her. “How many hours a week do you spend on softball?”
Still feeling gobsmacked, I answered. “I don’t know, twenty-five?”
“For me it was forty, minimum.” She nodded at my widening eyes. “Yeah, I was good, but Dad made me work so much harder because of it. For four years, every day of my life revolved around softball. Apart from my teammates, I had no friends, no boyfriend, no job. I couldn’t go out for choir or school plays. I missed dances and trips and everything. And it would have been so much more intensive playing in college. I know girls who leave the dorm at six a.m. and don’t get back until ten, and I didn’t want to be one of them.”
I wanted to be able to contradict her, but the more I searched my memories, the more they matched what she said. Her whole life had been softball. I guess I’d always thought that was what she wanted.
“It was at first,” she agreed when I said as much. “And Dad was so proud of me, which felt great too, but it kept getting bigger. It wasn’t enough to practice every day with the team—Dad wanted me working at night too. There was no off-season. In the winter I played club ball. Every weekend I was at another camp. I don’t know how I kept my grades up, I really don’t. I barely remember anything from high school except softball, which was reason enough not to surrender another four years of my life.” Her hands had grown tight on the steering wheel, but with an effort, she relaxed them. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t care. I love softball. I love it more now than I ever have, because it’s fun again. Watching you, playing at school without committing every waking minute of the day to it—I love that. And I love that I’m getting to do new things and try some of what I missed in high school, you know?”
Selena looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to understand. I did, to a degree. But I couldn’t imagine walking away and disappointing Dad like she had, no matter the cost. Maybe I’d feel differently if Dad pushed me as hard as he’d pushed her, or if playing well came half as easily to me as it had to her. But he didn’t, and it didn’t, and I couldn’t completely quell the resentment toward my sister that lingered just below the surface because she’d given up what I’d never have.
I opened my door when we pulled into our driveway, but Selena didn’t follow. “Aren’t you coming in?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
