“Let’s go warm up.” Kate brushed past her, and Abby drew in a breath, struck with an ailment she didn’t understand, but certainly knew the source of.
The Decision
“They’re predicting nineteenth round.” He grinned that boyish, eye-squinting grin that she knew she should return, but Kate couldn’t. She just sat in their usual booth at the diner on the edge of campus and didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Kate swirled the straw in her water. “Nineteenth round. Wow.”
Blake nodded, his smile drooping a little. “Yeah, I mean, it’s not the top, but it’s still a fat signing bonus. I don’t think staying senior year is going to change much.” He reached across the table to hold her hand. “I know it’s scary, but we can do the distance, Katie. I know we can.”
But it wasn’t the distance that left her nauseated. His news made her so envious that she stewed under the vintage light fixture, the jukebox crooning behind them, hating that Blake wouldn’t have to lose the game like she would. In less than two years, it would end for her. There wasn’t a draft for softball players or a chance at a professional career. Every few decades, women’s leagues rose and crumbled, and even if one did again, it wasn’t enough of a paycheck to live off. Not even the Olympics was a guarantee, as the sport frequently got dropped from the summer games.
Kate forced a smile. “I’m happy for you.”
But after they kissed, Blake narrowed his eyes. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” Kate sighed. “Just tired from practice, trying to hold my own against Abby.”
“Right.” Blake gulped a too-big bite of his burger. “Has Whit decided yet?”
She shook her head and picked at his fries.
“Well, don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Maybe you can split time at shortstop again this year.” He shrugged and Kate resisted responding that it was easy for him to say. “You’re competing with baseball royalty. She’s got like a dozen golden gloves and home run derbies in her DNA.”
“Big Blake!”
The baritone rumble signaled the arrival of Blake’s teammates, who brazenly piled into their booth. When Blake apologized, Kate waved him off and dismissed herself. Her mind was already elsewhere, had been for weeks, months maybe—tied up with Abby Cruz.
They continued to study and train together through winter term. They still didn’t exchange many words, but the stubborn lines loosened between them. Perhaps Abby befriending Mick helped things, or maybe it was that Kate spent winter break wondering what she was doing and who she was with. Or maybe it was that Abby stopped scowling whenever Kate helped her in the library, and while her stares didn’t stop, Kate swore less anger brewed there, even if it still made her blush.
Of course, at practice, her desire to win, to be the best, tugged her back in the other direction. She’d set her mind to it, pushing to be faster, throwing harder, grunting and huffing while Abby glided. Kate ignored her rare compliments or suggestions, slamming her locker shut next to her, only to spend the night wishing for it to be tomorrow, when they’d see each other again.
She fought the same whiplash as she walked back to the blue house, Abby once again on her mind. She came over more often after winter break to hang out with Mick and the others, and each timeKate pulled open the door, she secretly hoped to find her, though she wouldn’t dare extend the invitation herself. Just as she didn’t dare break out in the grin her mouth twitched for when she spotted her at the kitchen table with T.K. and Jill.
Kate cleared her throat as she closed the back door. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping them with their Spanish homework,” Abby said.
“You speak Spanish?” Kate asked.
“Yeah, kind of.” Abby shrugged. “It was my first language thanks to Audie. No wonder I suck at English.”
“You don’t suck at English. You just never do the assigned reading.”
Abby rolled her eyes.
“How do I ask a man how much money he makes?” T.K. twirled her hair around a finger.
“That’s not on the test,” Jill said.
“It should be. I’m going to Spain this summer.”
Abby cackled, and Kate realized she had never heard her really laugh before. Not sarcastic or half-hearted, but full. Her chest fluttered at how Abby threw her head back and glowed.
“Okay, try this.Soy una prostituta. Estoy buscando un sugar daddy.”
Kate snorted as T.K. repeated it with gusto. Abby chortled again too, deep and hearty, her gaze settling into Kate’s. When the laughter ended, she longed for it to return, to move closer or stay, but she was still the competition. She still intended to win.
“I’m going to study upstairs. Night.”
