Sure.
“I know it’s a big ask, Colby, but I somehow need you to keep Jayden moving up while keeping his brother from going off the rails.” Coach dips a giant fried pickle into what looks like thousand island dressing, and my stomach rolls from watching him push the entire thing into his mouth.
“Why do I feel like you’re talking about more than their at-bats?”
I poke my fork into what’s left of my salad and force down the last bite of my dinner. I have felt sick to my stomach since news broke about Adriel showing up. More than the chaos that comesalong with the elder Vargas boy, it’s the added pressure of my relationship to Jayden and Adriel being outed.
“Welp, it’s a little more than the at-bats. Yep,” Coach says as he chews through his words. He runs a napkin over his lips, then tosses it on his plate before pushing back a bit from the table. I think Coach purposely asked to have this one-on-one dinner with me at the hotel restaurant after tonight’s game so we could get into the Adriel situation. But the rest of the staff is only a table or two away. And they keep looking at us as if they’re waiting for me to get voted off the island.
“I don’t know that I can do much about Adriel, even in the batter’s box,” I say in a hushed tone.
Coach Shuster chuckles and rubs his full belly as he glances across the crowded restaurant to where most of the team is piled around a dozen tables eating wings and watching highlights from the day’s sporting events on the small flatscreen attached to the wall by the bar.
“Look, Colby. I’m not an idiot,” he says, his gaze shifting to meet mine. I swallow slowly disguise my sudden discomfort under his scrutiny. That sentence packs a lot of punch. Why would I think he’s an idiot? And what does he know?
“Okay,” I croak.
“I know who my coaching staff is, I mean. When we landed you, I did my homework. I know your dad coached those boys. It’s half the reason I pushed you with Jayden. I thought maybe you could bring out something he’s been missing the last two seasons. And lo and behold . . .” He claps his hands together, then flares his fingers as if he just did a magic trick.
“Voila.”
I nod, my smile still guarded.
“I don’t know that I did much other than encourage him to lean into his strengths.”
“Sure, but that’s the thing. Youknowhis strengths. Just like, I’m assuming, you know his brother’s weaknesses.” He folds his hands on his belly again and leans back.
There’s a silent agreement in his gaze, and I nod.
“I do.”
My gaze dips to the table, and I push my plate away. If Coach did his homework, I’m sure he knows the rest of my story, including the bit about Jayden and Adriel’s dad killing my mom. I get a sense from his silent stare that he does.
“I’ll do the best I can. I want to help the team.”
“Good,” Coach says, leaning forward as he smacks his palms on his knees. He stands and I do the same, taking his hand in a firm shake. I’m not entirely sure what I’m agreeing to.
“Adriel is worth a lot to this club. Whatever you can do to get the most out of our investment, do it. But you and I both know Jayden is the future. So just . . . don’t let big brother sink him. You follow?”
He quirks a brow, and my stomach turns.
I nod.
“I got it,” I say, just as a bellow of group laughter erupts at the other end of the restaurant.
My gaze flashes right to Jayden. He’s sitting still at the head of one of the tables while Adriel stands behind him, his hands on Jayden’s shoulders while he regales the rest of the team with what I’m sure are embarrassing stories about his brother. I can’t help but correlate this to how Jayden must feel—like his brother is constantly climbing on his shoulders and pushing him down.
Jayden’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I hold my breath and try to read his thoughts.
Help.
I need you.
Us.
“We can get in for hitting practice at six tomorrow morning. I’ll let the guys know to show up at seven, though, if you wanna . . .” Coach gestures toward the Vargas boys, and I nod.
“Yes, Coach.”
