“Well, I did want to talk to you about Kate.” Abby jumped in both to stop the conversation she didn’t want—no matter how well-intentioned Coach Whitley was, Abby wasn’t exactly welcoming a heart-to-heart—and to dive into the real reason she’d trudged into her office.
Coach Whitley’s brow furrowed. “What about her?”
“I think maybe she should take shortstop.”
“Why’s that?”
Abby hadn’t thought that far ahead. All she knew was that she hated how Kate despised her, more than she hated giving up her spot. “Well, it clearly means a lot to her.”
“And it doesn’t mean a lot to you?”
“I don’t know.”
It certainly did before. Now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was Kate or maybe it was that she still couldn’t feel it. That she kept playing out of habit, and the joy had yet to resurface.
“You know, you have a real opportunity here, Abby. You’re incredibly talented.” Coach Whitley smiled as if trying to rouse the same from Abby. “You could use this season to get back to the next level. Maybe even take a shot at Team USA.”
Abby swiped a softball from Coach Whitley’s desk and turned away. “Trying to get rid of me already?”
“Trying to make sure your potential doesn’t get lost in the grief.”
She squeezed the softball tighter, mirroring the walls of her chest. “What potential? There’s hardly a future for me.” Abby paused to clarify, more for Coach Whitley than herself. “A future for me in softball. I mean, you played for the Australian national team and still had to come all the way over here to coach?”
“Played in leagues around the world too. This game doesn’t come easy. You have to chase it sometimes. But that’s part of the beauty, don’t you think?” Coach Whitley sighed when Abby turned back to her. “If you really want Hutchins to play shortstop, you two can work it out on your own, okay?”
“Okay.”
Abby walked straight to the blue house. She grumbled on the uphill trek, one sneaker untied, sweat breaking out beneath her tattered hoodie. She charged for the back door and pulled, scowling when it didn’t budge. “What the fuck?” She pounded the splintered wood. “Hey! It’s me!”
“Jesus Christ.” Mick yanked open the door. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with you? Since when do you lock the door?” Abby asked as she stomped inside.
“Jill and Dill must be on a break,” Mick said. “What’s up your ass?”
“I need to talk to Kate.” Abby tensed when she spotted her over Mick’s shoulder. “Can you give us some privacy?”
“Mm-hmm.” Mick grinned before she slinked away, and Abby rolled her eyes.
“What’s going on?” Kate asked.
“Maybe we can sit?”
Abby followed her to the couch. In the last few months, she’d grown comfortable in the house—its waft of old furniture and Jill’s lavender incense, the bottle-cap-covered coffee table, and softball posters from seasons past. The weak warmth from the groaning heater never failed to thaw her chest. Except now, as she sat on the couch next to Kate. For as much as she’d grown accustomed to the house, as much time as they spent together, she hadn’t quite grown comfortable with her. Not with their unending game of two steps forward and one step back.
“Everything okay?” Kate asked.
Abby rubbed the back of her neck, less confident than she had been in Coach Whitley’s office. What seemed reasonable twenty minutes earlier, now seemed potentially condescending.
“I feel bad about how things went down. I’m sorry for taking your position.”
Kate sighed and Abby worried she’d triggered another fight. She didn’t understand why it happened so often. While she certainly had a temper, laid-back was Abby’s natural state, and with everyone else Kate exuded calm and control. Perhaps they simply spent too much time together. Or maybe it was the tension beneath, the competing and jealousy, coupled with their forced partnership. Only it wasn’t just a forced partnership. Somewhere along the way Abby began needing Kate. Enough that when they drifted, she scrambled to get her back.
“It’s not like we can both play there.” Kate tilted her head in a way that restored Abby’s hope. “And you didn’t take it. You earned it.”
“I know how much you want it though. I wasn’t trying to insult you when I said I could play second base instead. I should’ve probably just moved over there before.”
“Why would you do that?” Kate’s gaze flickered, as if prodding Abby to say something they both already knew.
