Page 3 of Saving The Shortstop

I’m so happy for her and Lane. And who knows? Maybe this Dallas kid and I can become friends.

DALLAS

I’m not exactly known for being a ray of sunshine. There’s a lot about my life and the world as a whole that I don’t love, but I tolerate it. There is, however, one thing I can’t stand. And that’s when people are being overly nice to me because they feel bad.

Yeah. I hate that.

Like these two spoiled kids that I’m meeting at this random park right now. I know the last thing they want to do with their final day of summer is to be here with me and Memphis. I’m not stupid.

The girl—Haven, her name is—she turns everything anyone says into a joke. She’s loud and borderline annoying. But her brother, Noah, he’s okay. His shirt probably costs more than my entire wardrobe, and it’s covered in whatever parts of his donut didn’t make it into his mouth. He seems completely unfazed by anything his sister says, even when she’s making fun of him.

After running to his mom’s car, Noah sprints back toward us, a football in hand. “You guys want to throw?” he calls to me and his sister, holding the ball up.

“I’m in!” Haven walks toward him, pulling her hair up into a ponytail before she looks at me. “What about you, Dallas?”

“We’re going to walk the loop while you kids play football,” their mom, Anna, says.

“You all good?” Memphis asks me, pushing up from the picnic table.

“Yeah,” I say, giving her my usual one-word response. I’ve been with her and her husband Lane for two weeks. I don’t know them, and I’m not comfortable with them yet either.

My eyes follow the women as they take off walking, no doubt talking about me and how much trouble I’ve been causing. They had a perfect, polished life. And then I came in, bringing nothing but trouble.

Noah lightly hits my shoulder. “You gonna play with us or not? I promise, my sister’s arm isn’t that bad.”

Instantly, Haven punches him in the bicep and takes the ball from his hands.

“I can throw harder than you, a-hole,” she hisses. “I mean, I’d rather throw a softball, but this will do, I guess.” She looks at me, almost like she’s challenging me. “You joining, or are you going to just stand here all day?”

My eyes move from the ball to her bright green eyes before finally, I sigh. “Yeah, I guess.” I shrug and follow behind them into the middle of the field.

Within thirty seconds of throwing the ball to each other, I know two things to be true.

One, I’ve never had a football to throw, but this is actually kind of fun, and I’m not half bad at it.

And two … Haven scares me a little bit. But I’d never say that out loud.

TWO

DALLAS

EIGHT YEARS LATER

“Run it again!” Coach King yells, fidgeting with the brim of his ball cap. “In fact, run it until you idiots can get it right!”

“Yes, sir,” we all call out.

“Coach is in a mood,” Luke, the team’s running back, utters. “A bad one at that.”

“Just set it up before he gets pissed again,” I grumble sharply. It’s hot as balls today, just like it has been all week. Septembers in Massachusetts can either be comfortable and a little chilly or sweltering.

I’d prefer to freeze my balls off than to sweat them off, to be honest. Which is pretty ironic, seeing as I spent the first eleven years of my life in Florida before I got adopted by Tampa Bay Buccaneers star Lane Rivers and his wife Memphis just before they moved to New England.

We run it again, and this time, the pass is incomplete. Coach King doesn’t even say anything, but instead, he turns around and looks off into the distance while he silently stews. I swear, even across the field, I can see smoke pouring from his ears.

Luke is right; Coach is grouchy today. It doesn’t help that I’m trying to put the ball in Noah’s hands, who is the wide receiver and also my best friend. Because not only is Noah a freshman who seems to be cracking under the pressure, but I’m also not letting the play develop before I’m firing the ball at him. So, in reality, it’s both our faults.

I will say, Noah being here seems to make Coach more tense—being his son and all. I think he just doesn’t want to look like he’s playing favorites.