Dedication
To everyone who has wondered: Your dreams are worth it. Keep going.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Author’sNote
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Chapter34
Chapter35
Chapter36
Chapter37
Chapter38
Chapter39
Chapter40
Chapter41
Chapter42
Chapter43
Chapter44
Chapter45
Chapter46
Chapter47
Chapter48
Chapter49
Chapter50
Chapter51
Chapter52
Chapter53
Chapter54
Chapter55
Chapter56
Chapter57
Chapter58
Chapter59
Chapter60
Chapter61
Chapter62
Chapter63
Chapter64
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Extended Epilogue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
About the Author
Also by Grace Reilly
Copyright About the Publisher
WhileIhavetriedtostaytruthfultotherealitiesofcollegebaseballandcollegesportsingeneralthroughoutthisbook,some detailshavebeentweakedforyourreadingenjoyment.Pleasevisitmywebsite(grace-reilly.com)forfullcontentwarnings.
February 18th
I swear to God, Mia di Angelo is wearing those jeans to fucking torture me
Penelope Ryder’s best friend is a lot of things, but right now, “vixen” is the only descriptor that comes to mind. She’s dancing with Julio, and his hands are low enough on her hips to brush her ass Her long dark hair is loose around her bare shoulders. Between the bright green halter top and the black jeans that fit so perfectly she may as well have painted them on, I can’t stop staring The way she’s dancing is mesmerizing the only issue is that she’s doing it with my teammate, not me.
I stare at her toned stomach, listening to her laughter as she grinds against him My grip tightens around my glass
Two nights ago, I dipped my tongue into her belly button to make her laugh before I slid to my knees
Two weeks ago, she dragged me into a classroom on the fifth floor of the library and kissed me until I couldn’t breathe. Two months ago, she smiled at me for the first time Looked at Penny and my brother, Cooper, then back at me and smiled, and I swear the universe tilted on its axis for half a second. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do a fucking thing but look at that smile and melt I can see that face in my mind in perfect detail: the slightest little gap between her two front teeth. The black lipstick. The winged eyeliner and earthy brown eyes. She had given me scowl after scowl, like I was personally responsible for whatever shit was annoying her at that moment, and then suddenly, gifted me a smile
An angel’s smile.
I hear, distantly, Cooper’s teammates joking around His friend Evan Bell asking if they think he could handle Mia No.
I know exactly who can handle her, and it’s not him Not Julio, either I take a sip of my drink, then clap Evan on the shoulder. “Buddy, respectfully, she’d eat you alive and spit out your jockstrap.”
Mickey, another teammate of Cooper’s, whistles “I could fuck with that ” I don’t hide my glower all that well. Mickey could win his way into Mia’s bed, sure, but he’d have a hell of a time staying there
I’ve been with her four times now. Each time, she tells me it’s the last But if she’s fucking anyone tonight, it’s me. I know I should let her turn her attention to Julio or Mickey or anyone else she’s interested in. She’s made it clear that our connection can’t go further than the physical. I don’t know if I’m capable of it, so I ought to be leaving her the hell alone
Easier said than done.
When Cooper goes to find Penny something about playing a game of beer pong I peel away from the wall and cut through the dance floor. “Mind if I take a dance?”
Julio raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t seem too miffed I haven’t told anyone on the team about my back-and-forth with Mia No one knows, in fact, except me and her “It’s up to the lady,” he says.
Mia stutter-steps through the next beat of music and glares at me She’s wearing some kind of makeup that makes her face shimmer. The glitter even trails down her throat and the swell of her breasts.
Her voice holds a precise amount of venom Afaçade I hope “Seriously?”
“One dance.”
The song fades, and as the notes to the next one start up, I hold out my hand
“Fine ” She makes a show of kissing Julio on the cheek “You know where to find me ” I pull her close. So we can dance, sure, but to feel her, to experience her warmth. “You couldn’t have picked one of the two dozen hockey players in this house to tease me with?”
She spins around, grinding that delicious ass against me. I miss half a step before splaying my hand over her belly, keeping her body close to mine
“Teasing?” she says, turning so her lips are against my ear. My grip on her tightens “Julio’s one of my guys ”
“Evan, then ”
“No.” I spin her, and the unexpected, actual dance move makes her smile. I file that away. She has many expressions, but her smiles are the best Ararity “Me ”
“Who says I’m still interested?”
I let my breath wash over her ear Even though it’s hot in here, she shivers “It’s pretty fucking obvious, di Angelo ” She twists, looking me in the eye; with her high heels, we ’ re practically the same height. I want to take off those heels, then peel down her jeans real fucking slow Her eyes are molten, ringed by that trademark eyeliner “Penny’s going to spend the night here ”
“Like Cooper would let her out of his sight.”
“You can come to the room ”
I grin at her. Maybe there’s part of her even if it’s buried that likes my smile. I shouldn’t hope so, but God, I do
May 6th
IskidintotheBraggScienceCenterwithaminutetosparebeforemymeetingwithProfessorSantoro Ifthere’sonethingshe hates,it’stardiness,soItakethestairstothefifthflooratarun.Ishouldn’thaveagreedtodrinkswithErin,oneoftheseniors inthephysicsdepartment,lastnight becauseitwasn’tjustdrinks,ofcourse;weendedupatherplaceafterafewrounds butIwasfeelingreckless,andnowI’mpayingtheprice
Inearlyheave as Itake a breather onthe third-floor landing. Definitely payingthe price.Myhead feels like someone is hittingitwithasledgehammerrepeatedly Andthehookupwasn’tevenworthit Waytoomuchspit I’ve always beenfull ofbad ideas. Experiments ofthe explosive varietyinthe chemistrylab atSt. Catherine Academy. BonfirepartiesinthewoodsattheedgeofmyhometowninSouthJersey.Hookupsofallkindsinclosetsandclassroomsand publicbathrooms Lately,I’vehadplentyofextra badideas
It’seasiertojumpheadfirstintohookupsandpartieswitheverybitofmysparetimethanthinkabouthim,afterall.
SebastianMiller-Callahan Disgustinglynice Disgustinglygood atmakingme come Disgustinglygood atbaseball, too, andthat’ssomethingthatshouldhavetippedmeoff it’snevereasywithathletes.
Nottomentionthefacthe’smybestfriendPenny’sboyfriend’s brother Nope Mr GoldenBaseballGodisinmylifefor thelonghaul,andnonumberofhookupscanchangethatfact.
Hasn’tstoppedmefromtryingforoveramonthnow.Hasn’tstoppedmefromwishingIwasadifferentsortofgirl.IfIwas anicegirl,anddeservingofSebastian,thenmaybeIwouldn’thavefledthedayhisbrotherwalkedinonusabouttogetdown tobusiness.
IsmoothmyhairasIrushdownthehallway Imightbehung-overandmoreheartbrokenthanI’deveradmit,butthere’sno wayI’mlettingthatmessupthisassignment.TalkingmywayintoProfessor Santoro’slabthissummer,eventhoughI’monly goingintojunioryear,issomethingIrefusetotakeforgranted Iworkedmyassoffinhighschool togetintoMcKeeandits top-fiveundergraduateastronomydepartmentforthisexactmoment.Achancetodorealresearch,tostartwhatwillhopefully be a long career spent staring at the stars and to give my application to the astrophysics study abroad program at the UniversityofGenevaalegup
IremembertheexactmomentIfellinlovewithspace.I’dbeenawareofitbefore,ofcourse,butitwasn’tuntilasummer bonfire duringa familyvacationthatIlookedupandreally saw it Mynonno a dreamer ina familyofpractical people broughtatelescopetothebeach,andwhileeveryonedrankwinefrompapercupsandlaughedaroundthebonfire,Ifollowed himtoaquietspotbythedunes.
“Let’sfindaplanet,”hesaidashesetupthetelescope.“MaybewecanseeMarsor Jupiter.Summer isagoodtimefor planethunting.”
Itfeltlikemagic,peeringattheskythroughthetelescope Wefoundthem,andSaturntoo,myeyeswideasIgluedmyface tothelens.
“Oneday,”hesaid,handsinthepocketsofhislinenpants,gazingupwithasmuchreverenceasI’dseenwhenheprayedin church,“maybethey’llfindanotherlittlegirlgazingattheskythroughatelescope,wonderingaboutEarth.Maybeyou’llbethe onetodoit,Maria.”
HealwaystoldmethatIcoulddoanything.AsIgrewupandmyinterestinspaceconsumedme,hesentmearticlesfrom NASAthatwe’dreadtogether.Heencouragedmetosignupforadvancedmathandscienceclassesandjointheroboticsclub. Themorningbeforehediedofaheartattack,hepickedmeupfromschool I’dgottenintroublewiththenunsyetagain and toldmethatheknewIwasdestinedforsomethinggreat.
WhenIgettoProfessorSantoro’soffice,Iknockonthedoor,andspendthefivesecondswaitingforananswercombing throughmymessyhair.Ugh.WhydidIhookupwithErinagain?
SebastianMiller-Callahanisstillinmyhead,that’swhy.
Thatstopsnow Ihavelabworktofocuson Astudyabroadprogramtogetinto Afuturetoplan hello,NASA that’sfar awayfromNewJerseyandthediAngelofamily,thankyouverymuch.
Noneofthatinvolvesacertaingreen-eyedbaseballplayer
I’mtheonewhowalkedoutonhim,anyway.
Ibethehasn’tthoughtaboutmeatall. “Enter,”ProfessorSantorocalls.
Ipushopenthedoorgently
Professor Beatrice Santoro is a major reason I chose McKee University over all the other offers, some with better scholarships, when it came to college acceptances She’s a badass older Italian woman who took one glance at me and understood my background, both the challenges and the love. And now, after two years spent working my ass off in this department to earn credibility, I’mfinally in her lab She rarely lets undergraduate students into her inner sanctumunless they’rerisingseniors,butIearnedthisspot.Impeccablelabworkandattendance.FluencyinPythonandC++.Volunteeringat thecampusplanetarium.Attendingeveryvisitinglectureandsymposium.
Mygrandfatherhadbeentheonlyonetotellmehebelievedinme untilProfessorSantoro
You have a bright future, Mia. Afuture in the stars, if that’s what you want. If you ’ re prepared to work for it.
I’vespenttwoyearsworkingtobeworthyofthosewords,andnowI’mreadytoproveit “Mia,”shesaysinawarmvoice.“Howareyoutoday?”
Professor Santoro’s office is a little nook of a room Books everywhere, framed photographs of space and stars on a gallerywall,herdegreesinarow behindherdesk.Shetakesnotesbyhand,regardlessofthecomputerprogramshe’susing, andstacksofthoselittlenotebookslineherdesklikesentries.
AsIsit,sheadjustsherthickblackglasses,whichgivehergracefullyolderfaceatouchofquirkiness Hersilver-threaded hairhangsloosearoundhershoulders.
Imanageasmile,eventhoughIwanttohurlonherdesk “Great Howaboutyou?”
Professor Santoro leans back in her chair, pressing her fingertips together. “I’m well. Very happy to have you as my undergraduate researcher for the summer. I think this assignment will be a good challenge for you, given your interest in exoplanetdiscovery.”
Inearlybounce myleginexcitement, butmanage to reel itin. Exoplanets are a relativelyrecentdiscovery theywere theoretical, officiallyspeaking, until the 1990s and now, scientists have discovered thousands They’re simplyplanets that orbitastar other thanour own.Outofthebillionsoutthere,onemightbecapableofsustainingalienlife.Professor Santoro has beeninvolved inthis researchsince the beginning, and the thought ofworkingalongside her, evenona small scale, to discoverandclassifytheseplanets,isenoughtomakeeverythingelsefadeaway.
“Alice will email youthe lab schedule,” she says. “You’ll have assigned readings for our weeklyroundtables, so make sure you come prepared. I want you to work with her to rewrite the programwe’ve been using to measure these planets’ atmospheres.Ithinkyoureyeforcodewillhelpusstreamlineit.Iwantamockversionupandrunningforwhentheyrelease thenewJamesWebbdata,soitcanbepartoftheanalysisformycurrentpaper”
Inod.“Absolutely.”
Hergazeturnsshrewd “Howarethings,Mia?Howisyourfamily?” “Fine.”
“Dotheystillthinkyou’restudentteaching?”
Myfaceflushes Istareatmylap Myfamily’sbigideaforawoman’scareeristemporary teachinguntilIhavechildren ofmyown.Mynanadidit.Mymotherandhersister.Myoldersister,Giana,isteachingforonemoreyearbeforesquirtingout kids withher husband, never mind thatgrowingup, she wanted to become a lawyer It’s whattheythinkI’mstudying, and I haven’tcorrectedthem.ButifIgetintotheGenevaprogram,I’llbeabletouseitasconcreteproofthatI’mmeanttobeinthis fieldandexplaineverythingtothem It’snotlikeIwanttolieaboutsomethingthishuge,afterall
“It’seasierthisway.Theywon’t theywon’tunderstand.”
“Nevertheless,” she says, “they’re your family. Myparents didn’t understand mydesire to burymyface ina telescope either,buttheycamearound”
“Yourfatherwasadoctor,”Isay.“MydadinstallsHVACsystems.”
She takes offher glasses, foldingthemcarefully “I’mhostinga symposiumatthe end ofJune Colleagues fromseveral universitieswillbecoming,andIwantyoutogiveapresentationonourresearch.”Sheholdsmygaze.“Doyouunderstand?” Mybreathcatchesinmythroat “Yes”
“Dowell,andyouwon’tneedarecommendationfrommefortheGenevaprogram.RobertMeierwillhearyouyourself. I’vealreadytoldhimhe’ll beabletoseemymostpromisingstudentwhenheattends.”Shestands,signalingmydismissal.I slidemybagovermyshoulder “Ihopeyouwillconsiderinvitingsomefamilymemberstoseeit” Icantellit’snotmuchofasuggestion,butIdon’ttouchit.Notnow,whentheonlypersonI’dwanttoinviteisdead.Inod. “SeeyouonMonday”
She’salreadyturnedtothebookshelf,rifflingthroughthetomes.Ontothenextproblemfortheday.“Monday.”
Sebastian
Thisearlyinthemorning,thehouseisquiet I rise from my plank, breathing through my nose, and pick up a set of fifteen-pound dumbbells for the next round of exercises. Cooper, bymyside, does the same. There’s no need to talk, notwhenwe’ve done this routine together, the exact sameway,foryearsnow Sometimesweplaymusic,buttodaythere’snothing Nodistractionsexcepttheonesinsidemyhead Wecouldhavegonetothegymoncampus,thenice24/7onespecifictoathletes,thankstohispositiononthehockeyteam and mine onthe baseball team, buthe’s leavingona post-semester road trip withhis girlfriend, Penny, ina few hours, and wantedextratimewiththecatcurrentlysittingonthestaircase
Sheblinksherenormousambereyesatus,unnervinglyintelligent.I’mmoreofadogperson,butTangerinehasgrownon me Cooper and Penny rescued her last fall, and she’s become a permanent fixture in the house since I still haven’t fully forgivenher for leavingadeadmouseinmycleat,butshe’scute.Ican’ttell ifbeingher solecaretaker whilethey’reonthe roadtripandourlittlesister,Izzy,isinManhattanforaninternship,willbringusclosertogetherorendwithherattackingme inmysleep.
Sheswisheshertailbackandforth,asifshe’sconsideringit,whileweworkthroughtheexercises.Afterthelastone,Iset the dumbbells on the floor and swipe my hand through my shaggy hair Baseball hair, Izzy always teases It’s longer than Cooper’snow;afterhisteamwenttotheFrozenFour andwon hisgirlfriendbeggedhimtotrimthebeardandcutoffsome ofthemop
Heglancesatme.“You’requieterthanusual.”
“I’ve been up for a while” I stretch; my shoulder protested that last set of reps During a game a couple days ago, I slammedagainstthewarningtrackasIchasedadeepflyball.Gottheball.Andabruise.Westilllost.Fourgamesinarow now.Ifwe’regoingtomaketheplayoffs,weneedtorighttheship fast.
Hemakesasympatheticnoise “Ithoughtthathadbeengettingbetter” IshrugasItakeasipofwater.“Itcomesandgoes.Ididn’tmanagetofallasleeplastnight.Gottopracticemyknifeskills, though AndwatchedadocumentaryaboutbreadmakinginFrance”
Heshakeshishead.“Iwaswonderingaboutallthechoppedonioninthefridge.Yourhobbyisweirdsometimes,dude.” “Theywerediced,notchopped.Andcallitweirdallyouwant,butyoueateverythingImake.”
“Happily. It’s fuckingdelicious.” He sets downthe dumbbells and stretches. Tangerine pads over onlightfeet, winding aroundhisbarelegs.Hepicksherup,hugginghertohischest.Shepurrscontentedly.“Thatsucks,though.Doyouwanttotalk aboutit?”
“Youallsetforthetrip?StillvisitingJamesandBexfirst,right?”
“Sebastian”
Myadoptivebrother’sdeepblueeyesarefullofconcern.Hereachesouttosqueezemyshoulder.“Wasit...” Anightmare?Oneofthepersistent,sickeningnightmaresthatyearsofexpensivetherapydidn’tsquashcompletely?Never mindhowhardhisparents myadoptiveparents tried?
Iswallow.There’sasuddenknotinmythroat.“No.Notanightmare.”
Not a maw of crushed metal and brokenglass Not blood onleather seats Not a scream, cut short thanks to a severed windpipe.Icancall upthememorysoeasily,evenadecaderemoved.Youdon’tlookintoyour mother’slifelesseyesasan eleven-year-oldandnotrememberitlikesomeonecutopenyourskullandbrandedtheimagethere
Cooper’sgriponmetightens.HetoldmeoncethathecantellwhenI’mlostinthememory.Wewerefourteen,sittingunder thebleachersduringoneofourolderbrotherJames’smanyFridaynightfootballgames,eachwithastolenbeerinhand.Arare nightinthe fall whenCooper didn’thave ice time, and Ididn’thave a trainingsession Itwas October, the LongIsland air finallyturningcrispafteralate-seasonheatwave.Somethingaboutthesuddenraintriggeredit,Ithink.Weweredry,andsafe, and the game was still goingon, but I froze as I stared at the downpour, and Cooper had to shake me to dragme into the present.
Now,Ishrugoffhisgrip “Ijust Icouldn’tsleep”
Hisgazeturnsshrewd.“Becauseofher.”
I’d never tell Cooper, because he has a strained relationship withhis father that’s onlyjustgettingbetter and our own relationshipwasstrainedforatimeearlierthisyear,whenhispieceofshitunclecamecrawlingbacktoNewYorkandtriedto
swindle himoutofhis trustfund butwhenhe makes thatface, he looks justlike Richard Callahan, downto the furrowed brow.
The Callahans all lookalike, withtheir darkhair and deep blue eyes No one would ever mistake themfor anythingbut family.RichardCallahan,quarterbacklegend.HissonJames,twoyearsolderthanmeandCooper,nowfinishedwithhisfirst yearintheNFL Cooper,mybestfriendandneartwin Ourlittlesister,Izzy,avibrantballofenergywithawickedvolleyball serveandenoughswaggertogetherintroubleleftandright.
I’ve gotmydead mother’s blonde hair and mydead father’s greeneyes, and the lastname Callahannow;I’ve used the nameonthebackofmybaseballjerseyeversinceIturnedtwelve.Cooperandhisfamilyhavebeenmyfamilyforadecade, thankstoapactRichardandmyfather,JacobMiller,madewhentheywerejustyoungmenwithhopesforfuturesintheNFL andMLB RichardandSandrawelcomedmeintotheir familywithopenarmsafter myparents’deaths,andI’ll never notbe grateful.
Givenall that,we’ve beenbrothers longenoughthatCooper knows whenI’mholdingback IpetTangerine betweenthe ears.Thesilenceisconfirmationenough:Ihaven’tgottenMiadiAngelooutofmyhead.
Enjoy watching me leave, Callahan Herwordstauntme.Overamonthlater,theystillechoinmymind.Oneminute,Ihadherinmybed,inmyarms,soclose tomore.Thenext,shefled andtoldmetowatchherleave,likeI’dneverseeheragain.I have seenhersince,becauseshe’s Penny’sbestfriendandit’simpossibletoignoresomeonegoingtothesameuniversity,butshe’sactedlikeeveryhookup,every conversation,everymomentwesharedmeantnothing.
“Areyouevergoingtotellmewhatactuallyhappened?” “Yousawherleave.”
Hesighs.“Idon’tunderstandher.IknowPennylovesher,butshecanbe...difficult.” “Shehasn’tsaidanythingaboutme?”
Ihatethepatheticnoteinmywords,butIcan’tstopmyselffromaskingthequestion.Iworrymynecklace,themedallion thatoncebelongedtomyfather,betweenmythumbandforefinger
Hejustshrugs,nodoubtthinkingaboutthemomenthecaughtustogether.Itwasn’tlikewewereinthemiddleoffucking; wewerejustmakingout YetthesecondMiasawhim,anyvulnerabilityI’dwonfromhermeltedaway Thearmorwentback up,assolidassteel.
“Ifshehas,shetoldPennynottotellme.ProbablybecausesheknowsI’dtellyou.” “Fantastic.”
“It’snotlikeyou’vetoldmeallthatmuchaboutwhatwentdown.”
Igrimace “Nope AndIwon’t”
“Youtwoare ridiculous,” Pennysays fromthe topofthe stairs.She shuffles down,her feetbare,wearinga shirtwitha dragononitthatI’msurebelongstomybrother Hehasenoughnerdyfantasygeartorivalafanconvention Herrust-colored hair,sodifferentfromMia’sravenlocks,ispracticallyabird’snest.“Fortherecord,shehasn’ttoldmeanythingeither.She refusestotalkaboutit.”
It’seasytohearthenoteofconcerninhervoice Mia’sherbestfriend,afterall I’vekeptmyowntabsonMia,andwhileI knowit’snotmyfuckingbusiness,itseemslikeshe’sbeenenjoyingalotofcompany.That’sherright,andsure,I’mdoingthe same,butafterthewaywe’dbeentogether?
WheneverIthinkaboutthatmomentinmybedroom,Iseehersmudgedlipstick,herbrightbrowneyes.Inbetweenallthe kissing,Iaskedherouttodinnerforthesecondtime forjustonedinner,oneactualdateaftermonthsofsecretivehookups andshesaidyes.Thenapproximatelyoneminutelater,Cooperstumbledinonus,andapproximatelyoneminuteafterthat,she hauledherNASAtotebagoverhershoulderlikeashieldandfuckingleft.
Enjoy watching me leave, Callahan
Sincethen,she’sactedlikeshemanagedtowipemecleanoutofherlifewithoutasecondthought.Ihaven’tbeenableto bringmyselfto tell Cooper all the details Istill showed up for the date we planned Iwaited over two hours justincase she’dshow butsheghostedme.Idon’twanttoadmitthattomyownbrother.NotwhenhisgirlfriendisMia’sbestfriend.
“Yousure you’re fine onyour ownfor a while?” he asks He glances atPenny “Should we stickaround? Come to your games?IknowthatMia ” Ishakemyhead.“No,enjoythetrip.TellJamesandBexIsaidhi.I’llbefine.”
Pennykisses Cooper’s cheek Hepulls her closer,rockingher as herests his chinonher head,anunconscious motion I swallowmysparkofjealousy.WhenJamesfoundBex,itmadesense he’salwaysbeenmeantforabiglove.Thesoulmateof awife,kids,thewhitepicketfence,thedog WhenCooperfoundPenny,itwasasurprisetoeveryone,butitclearlysuitshim, havingonepersontofocuson,onepersontolove.I’venever seenhimhappier,whichmakesitworse,thewayImissbeing casualplayerstogether.
Mybrothersarebothdeservingofthatlove.Yetitsuckstobealoneandpiningoveragirlwho,apparently,wantslessto dowithmethandogshitonthebottomofhershoe.
“Wetoldmydadwe’dgetbreakfastwithhimbeforehittingtheroad,”Pennysays. Iclearmythroat.“Right.Ineedtoheadtopractice,anyway.”
“Textmeifyougetdraftupdateswhilewe’reaway,”Coopersayswithaneasygrin Sincethisishisoff-season,he’shada tonoftimetofocusonotherthings namely,wherehethinksI’mgoingtoendupsigningaftertheMLBdraftinJuly.Whenever I thinkabout it too hard, mystomachties itself into knots “Dad mentioned somethingabout the Marlins? Miami would be sick.”
Imanagetosmileback Ihaven’thadthehearttotellhim anyofthem,actually thattheloomingdraftishangingoverme likearapidlyapproachingstorm.It’sridiculous,becauseit’swhatI’mmeanttodo.Myfatherwantedtocreatealegacy,sohe madesurethatIlovedthesportfromthemomentIfirstpickedupabaseballbat.Baseballhasalwaysbeenmylife,andonce I’mdrafted,it’llbemyfuture
Butlately,atinypartofme,justloudenoughthatIcan’tignoreitcompletely,iswonderingifit’sthe right future.
WhenIturneddownthefirstdraftofferthesummerafterhighschool,insteadcommittingtoMcKee,itmeantthatIwouldn’t beeligibleforthedraftagainuntilIturnedtwenty-one.It’sthewayalotoftopbaseballplayersgo seewhattheofferwould be,thenstayincollegeandplanforthenextstepswhenyourskillsimprove,acoupleseasonsdowntheline Ifthenear-daily articles Richard sends me are accurate, I’ll go inthe firstround, likelyto the Miami Marlins or the Texas Rangers. There’s alreadytalkoftheCincinnatiRedstradingformedowntheline,sotheorganizationcanhaveaMillerbackontheteam.
It's whatDadwanted IfIclosemyeyes andfocus,Icanstill hear thewayhespokeaboutbaseball,thebeautyofit,the history,thesymmetrythathasmadeitsoenduringinAmericanculture.Hewasfamouslypatient,acoiledrodofenergyinthe batter’sbox,readytostrike TheNationalLeaguehomerunrecord,setbyhiminhislastseasonbeforetheaccident,remains unbroken.
Therearealotofpeopleouttherewhoexpectmetobetheonetobreakit.
It’spoetic,hissonbeingdraftedadecadeafterthetragicaccidentthattookoneofbaseball’sbestplayers ever fromthe game, waytoo soon. Not since ThurmanMunsondied inthat plane crashhad there beena bigger tragedyinbaseball. The Sportsman,the oldestsports magazine inthe country,calledthe other daytoaskaboutme givinganinterview,butIhaven’t repliedyet.
HowevermuchIcareaboutbaseball howeveraliveIfeelwhenchasingdownaflyball,whenhittingalinedrive,when slidingintohome plate itisn’tjustmine.Whenmyfuture inthe MLBbegins,the comparisons will justgetmore andmore intense. The great Jake Miller’s son LettingDaddownisn’tanoption.Hewantedonethingfor me,anditwas this.He diedina horrible,unfair instant,arm flungoutasifthatcouldprotectmymotherfromdeathrightalongsidehim.Imightwear“Callahan”onthebackofmyjersey rightnow,butoncethisismyjob,theexpectationswillbedifferent SoIjustkeepthatfuckingsmileplasteredonmyface.
“Sure,”Itellmybrother “Maybeit’llbeMiami Haveagoodtrip Youearnedit”
March 13th
I’ve just opened Penny’s text boysarefine,spendingthenightatCoop’s when there’s a knock at the door I slip out of bed, shivering as my bare feet hit the floor My head is pounding from the alcohol I threw back at Lark’s, something that I’m sure I haven’t helped by squinting at my laptop in the dark, letting all that blue light wash over me. But it was between staring at the ceiling and finishing work for my stellar astronomy course, and you don’t get into NASAfunded research labs by slacking off.
And fine, maybe I wanted to distract myself from him
Sebastian Miller-Callahan.
Sebastian, who has been smiling at me ever since the movie theater last fall. Sebastian, who calls me sweet when I come
Sebastian, who threw a punch for me. Who the hell does that?
Callahan boys, apparently. I’ve heard the stories from Penny about Sebastian’s brother, Cooper, who she’s pretty much disgustingly in love with I would hate it, except that I love her and love seeing her happy She’s the kind of girl you want to bring home to your parents. The kind of girl who deserves a loving relationship. And then there’s me.
I shouldn’t keep letting Sebastian in I’m just going to hurt him, one way or another I tried to earlier; I wore Cooper’s teammate’s sweater to the hockey game after Seb asked me not to, and he just gave me a once-over and ignored it. Patient as always And then at the bar, some creep tried to take a video of me and Penny, and he tore me away from the fray before jumping in alongside Cooper.
I pad to the door and ease it open
“Hey,” he breathes His voice is hoarse not just from the punch to the throat he took during the fight, but from the game earlier. Only his voice was as loud as Penny’s. Penny and I have talked about it before, how we ’ ve never seen brothers so close “Can I come in?”
His eyes are dim and exhausted, his cheek swollen with the makings of a wicked bruise. There’s a cut on his forehead, too, half-hidden by his messy hair
I grab his hand and guide him inside. He sits on the little couch in the common area gingerly. We have a mini fridge, so I grab an ice pack from the freezer and wrap it in a T-shirt before handing it over “Sure you don’t have a fucking concussion?” I ask, staying by the door
He turns to me slowly, as if trying to minimize the pain. The movement makes him wince. I shove down the thread of worry working through me “They checked me out at the urgent care place I’m fine Cooper needed stitches ”
The worry grows deeper. Arapidly expanding black hole, threatening to suck me in. He jumped into a fight for me
That doesn’t matter.
I try for a scowl That’s safe It’s the smiles that get me into trouble, not the scowls “I didn’t ask you to be my knight in shining armor ”
“I wasn’t about to let that asshole smack you around. Or Penny. Or Cooper, for that matter.” His voice is sharp. It’s a voice that allows no space for argument I bristle against it, even as part of me a small, yet annoyingly vocal part of me likes the tone and what it could promise.
I snort “Cooper had like thirty more pounds of muscle than that guy He was nothing I could’ve taken him ”
“I wasn’t about to let that happen.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t ” He stands, walking over to me, and presses me against the door I swallow, gazing into those gorgeous green eyes that devour me whenever we ’ re in a room together. It’s a secret, our thing, but shit like defending me in a public fight threatens to let that escape I ought to tell him to go home, and to stop texting “Just that I’d never let you fight alone.”
It can’t be more than hookups. Can’t be more than these moments, alone at night like we ’ re the only two people alive, my body burning for his Chemical reactions in our bodies, a web of connections unfurling between us I reach up, tracing over the bruise, and he hisses, dragging me closer
Our lips are mere centimeters from each other, and into that space, we lean in. Together. Magnetic.
I bite his lip He groans, making my stomach swoop He smiles then bites my lip back, not to be outdone His hands grip my hips as easily as they do a baseball bat, and my nails scratch down his back, through the too-thin sweater he’s wearing When we ’ re both gasping, we break apart, only to come even closer; his leg between mine, firm and casually dominant, my hands winding through his hair instead. The blond strands, so different from his adoptive family’s, are still cold from the March air outside
I want to drag him into my bedroom Penny won’t come back tonight, not when she has a boyfriend with stitches to care for. What I’m doing with Sebastian is dangerously close to the same thing, but there are enough differences that I can shove away the thought Nearly I ease back, even though I’m trapped between him and the door
Perhaps steadied is a better word than trapped.
“Mia,” he begins
I don’t give him a chance to finish the thought. It’s my room or the hallway for him, and the hallway would be safer, but I can’t push him out into the cold tonight. Not when he has a bruise on his face because of me. Not when he grabbed me around the waist and told me to stay put like I was breakable Like I was the kind of girl who needed that knight in shining armor, sword on his shoulder, one of Penny’s fantasy heroes made real.
I’ve never needed it, but some part of me must want it, because I take him to my bedroom, shut the door, and tell him to make me scream.
AsIwalkacrosscampusthenextday,acoffeeinhand,Gianacalls
Usually,hercallstakeoneoftwoforms:tocomplainaboutourfamily,ortointerrogatemesoshecantakethatinformation back to our family. Neither sound appealing right now, especially since I’mstill standing tall fromthe conversation with ProfessorSantoro Mymindisfullofideasforhowtocontributetoherproject HerresearchisNASA-affiliated,partofthe missiontouncoverthebillionsofexoplanetshidinginthevastdarknessofspace.ThegoalistofindanotherEarth butevery exoplanetrevealssomethingnewabouttheuniverse.
Since we can’tsee exoplanets directlywithour currenttechnology, we need to huntfor themvia other means Professor Santoro is workingona new wayof measuringatmospheric properties to determine details about exoplanets, and if I can reworkthecodeontheprogramshe’sbeenusing,wecouldgetmuchmoreprecisedataaboutconfirmedexoplanets
Thethoughtofallthoseplanetsoutthere,beautifulinalienways...it’senoughtomakemestopandstareatthesky,even thoughit’smorning Ischoolmyfaceintoaneutralexpressionbeforeansweringthevideocall
Atleastcampus has mostlyemptied for the summer, so there’s no one around to overhear myconversation. Altocumulus cloudsdotthesky,eachoneasfluffyasapieceofcottoncandy.Acoupleofyearsago,scientistsdiscoveredWASP-121b,an exoplanetcoveredinmetalcloudsthatpourliquidgemstones Rain,justlikeonEarth,butmadecompletelystrange and855 light-yearsaway.WhenItoldPennyaboutthatone,shejokinglysaiditwasmeasaplanet.
“Hey,Mi-Mi,”Gianasays ElementaryschoolinNewJerseyisstillinsession,soshemustbeonherlunchbreak;Icansee thewallbehindher,coveredinbrightposters.Herthickhairisinaponytail,andlittlediamondssparkleinherears.“How’sit going?”
Ifightasmileatthesoundofmychildhoodnickname.She’stheonlyonewhoevercallsmethat.Inreturn,I’mtheonlyone whocallsherGi-Gi.“Good.”
“Itlooksnicethere” Ikeepwalking.“It’sprettyhotout.”
“Right?Thekidsthinkit’ssummer vacationalready Theydon’twanttodoanyworkatall anymore”Shetakesasipof waterandadds,“Didyoustarttheassignmentyet?Momwasasking.”
“Um,no.”Isquintupatthetrees.“It’sremedialscience,soIhavetowaitforthesemestertofinishfirst.Theirsemester,I mean.”
“Youshouldcomedownforafewdaysbeforeyoustart.Youdidn’tevenvisitforEasterthisyear.”
Ihadn’twanted anythingto do withEaster Notthe Catholic churchservice, notNana’s rosemarylamb, or evenMom’s pastiera napoletana. Notthe egghuntinthe backyard, mylittle cousins runningaround withtheir starched formal outfits and grubbyfingers Ispentthedaydoingschoolworkinstead,eventhoughitfelloverspringbreak Ihaven’tlikedholidayssince Nonnodied.
“I’mpickingupextrashiftsatthecafébeforeitcloses.”
The Purple Kettle, the on-campus coffee shop that I workat duringthe semester, closed two days ago for the summer. Anotherlietoaddtothepile.MyfamilythinksI’mstickingaroundMoorbridgetohelphighschoolstudentswhofailedtheir science classes make up the credits as part of my accelerated teaching degree but I haven’t spent even a second in that department.IfIever teach,it’ll belikeProfessor Santoro.Anextensionofmyresearchandpartofmycareer,notthewhole thing Andcertainlynotintroducingtheconceptofcloudformationtomiddleschoolersorwhateverthehellmyfamilythinksis themostIcanhandle.
“Well, ifyoudo geta break, everyone would love to see you. Idon’tknow for certain, butIthinkMichelle’s pregnant again”
Isendaprayertothesky.Mybrothercanbeanasssometimes,buthiswifeiswonderful.“That’snice.”
“Right?Iwantustobeauntiestoalittlegirlthistime Enoughwiththeboys”
“Anthonywouldn’tknow whattodowithagirl.”Hehastwinsons,andthey’rebothmini tornadoesofchaos.Gianaand her husband won’tbe far behind I’ll betifMichelle is pregnant, and ifit’s a girl, Giana won’tlastuntil Christmas before tryingforababyofherown.
The thoughtmakes me shudder. Space doesn’tterrifyme one bit. Pregnancy, though? Beingincharge ofkeepinga baby alive? It’s never interested me Infact, itactivelyscares me ifIthinkaboutittoo hard That’s another lie Ifeed myfamily:
Sure, I can’t wait until I get married and have kids The one time Itoldmymother Iwasn’tsure Iwantedtodothe whole marriageandbabiesthing,sheblewupatmeaboutmydutiesasawomanand tomyfamily.
“Right?”Gianasays “Anyway,ifyoucan’tvisitnow,atleastcomefor thebarbecueinJune Nanawill cryifyoudon’t come.”
“Nana has never shed a tear inher life” It’s one ofthe manythings Irespectabouther, eventhoughour relationship is difficultatbest.AtNonno’sfuneral,shestoodstraight-backedinherblackveil,herfacecoveredinmakeup,hereyesasdryas ariverbedinaheatwave Notearsduringthewake,notearsduringthefuneral Notearsduringtheprivatefamilygathering afterward,asmyfatherandunclesgotdrunkongrappaandtoastedtohislife.
Iwasn’tasstrong.IshutmyselfinmyroomandcrieduntilIcouldn’tbreathe.
IclimboneofMcKee’smanyhills,holdingmyphonehighersomyfaceisstillintheframe ThedormI’mstayinginforthe summerisoneoftheancientfreshmenbuildingsontheedgeofcampus,atoponeofthesteepesthills.Incidentally,it’sthesame onewhereImetPenny Iarrivedfirst,andI’dbeendebatingwheretoputmyAndromedaGalaxyposterwhensheburstin,a whirlwind of ginger hair, all freckles and nervous energy. More books intow thanclothes, and ice skates tossed over her shoulder She took in my black leather jacket and combat boots, the nervous fuck-this energy I must have been radiating, blinked,andstuckoutherhand.
Shesawmebetterthananyoneelse.Betterthanmyownsister.Stilldoes.
Onthe phone, myreal sister sighs Icantell I’maboutthree seconds awayfroma lecture, so Isay, “I’mwalkinginto a meeting.I’lltalktoyoulater.”
“Tellmeyou’llcometothebarbecue,”sheinsists “Forme,Mi-Mi,please Don’tworryaboutourparentsorNanaorthe cousins.”
Iswipethekeycardtogetintothebuildingandpushtheheavydooropen.It’sswelteringinheretoo.SummerwithoutAC willbemurderonmyhair.
Atleastmyroomisonthefirstfloor.Heatrises,afterall.
“Fine,”Isay Anafternoonsurroundedbymyverylargeextendedfamily,theneighborhoodfriends,everyonefromchurch Icansuckitup. Idon’tknow whyor how myparents started this tradition, butit’s lasted for over twentyyears: the big summer barbecue at the di Angelos I haven’t spent time with my sister since Christmas, and even then, she was with her husbandPeter’sfamilyforhalfofit.
“Yay!”Hersmiletugsatmyheart.“Loveyou,Mi-Mi.”
Mybreathcatchesinmythroat.“Loveyoutoo,Gi-Gi.”
Ido.Ireallydo.IlovemyfamilysomuchthatithurtstoknowI’mnotthedaughtertheywant.Notwhotheyplannedfor.I triedtofitmyselfintothatbox withmysexuality,withmypassions anditjustdidn’twork Itwasimpossibletostaythere, squisheddown,andbeabletotakeafullbreath.Nonnowastheonlyonewhounderstoodthat.
Ifhewasalive,hewouldbesupportingmycareer aspirations,andIwouldn’tbecaughtupinthisstupidlie Inthepast, Gianatried,buteversinceshegotmarried,she’sactedjustlikeMomandouraunts.
Despiteitall,Istilllovethemandmyheritage.AndIcanbefriendlyinsmalldoses.Pennyhassaidsoherself.
Inearlyslipas Iwalkdownthe hallwaytomyroom Iglance atthe floor,makinga face whenIsee thatit’s coveredin water.Maybesomeidiotleftthetaprunninginthebathroom.
Attheendofthehallway,Ishovemydooropen;it’sstickingtotheframe Mymouthdropsopen.“Holyshit.”
Myroomisflooded
Withoutthedoorstoppingtheflow,thewaterrushesintothehallway,runningovermysneakers.Iglanceup;waterweeps fromacrackintheceiling,soakingabsolutelyeverything.Thebed.Myclothes,stillmostlyinmyopenedsuitcaseonthefloor. Shoesbobalonginthewater
Mygorgeoussuedeboots,myfavorite,aresoaked.Ruined. Itakeastepforwardandpromptlytrip Iflail,tryingtoholdontothebedframe,butinsteadIlandinthecold,disgusting water.
Ican’tstopmyselffromlettingouta very embarrassingscream
Whatabouther?She’shot”
IscowlatRafael He’speeringovermyshoulderatmyphone,thenosybastard Ididn’taskforhisopinion,butsure,the girlintheprofileisattractive.Sheclearlyknowsshecanmakeguysstopandstarewithhersmile. Shealsohappenstobeabrunette Iswipeleft.
“Dude,”hesays.“You’veswipedleftatleasttentimesnow.”
Acouplefeetaway,stretchedoutinthedugoutlikeit’sacomfortableoldcouch,Hunterraisesaneyebrow Hetakesoffhis McKee baseball cap,wipingthe sweatfromhis brow.Eventhoughit’s earlyMay,New York’s summer humidityhas setin. Practicewounddownafewminutesago,butwe’velingeredtochatabouttomorrow’sseriesopeneragainstBryantUniversity andmakeplansforlater.It’sahomegame,setfortheevening,sowe’llbeabletogoouttonight,haveafew beersatLark’s whilewatchingtheMetsgame,andstillhandleourpregameroutineswithease
Hunter’sgamedaypreparationsaremeticulous,dousedinsuperstition.I’venevercaredforthatsortofthing I’djustas likelyhitahomerunwearingblackunderwearasIwouldwearingblue butI’llnevertellhimso.Anythingtogetushitting again,anissuethat’sbeenplaguingusallseason Unlesswewinahellofalotmoreinthenextfewweeks,we’llmissouton theplayoffs.Ourrecordwon’taffectmydraftcapitalmuch,butIneedtofindawaytobringupmybattingaveragebeforethe officialstatsgoin
Iglanceatthenextprofile.She’sblonde.Nicetits.Asmilethattiltstooneside,alittleimpish.Iswiperight.Nosurprise, wematch
“Nowwe’retalking,”Rafsays.Heknockshisshoulderagainstmine.“I’mbettingshemessagesyouinthree,two...” Thenotificationpopsup.Hegrins.“Sopredictable.”
Iignore himas Ireplyto her Her name is Regina She’s vaguelyfamiliar, butIdon’thave to wonder aboutitfor long, becauseshe’salltooeagertotellmethatwesatatthesametableinethicsthispastsemester.She’sfreeinanhour.Stayingin oneofthedormsforthesummersemester
Tooeasy.
“Onlyyouwouldturnavoidanceintoawaytopickupevenmoregirlsthanusual,”Huntersays.There’sacarefulnotein hisvoice ajokebeforehehitsmewithsomethingreal andworryonhissmooth,lightbrownface.
Istand.I’mnotinthemood.NottohearabouthowI’vebeenlettingMiadiAngelostayinmyhead,rent-free,goingona monthand a halfnow I’ve gottenenoughofitfromCooper Hunter has a girlfriend, after all;he’s beendoinglong-distance withhishighschoolsweetheartforaslongasI’veknownhim.Rafael’ssolemnadvicewasmorepalatable.Hesatmedown, wrangledthestoryfromme,andsaid,withsurprisingseriousness,“Youjustneedtofuckyourwaythroughit” IwonderwhogaveMiathatsameadvice.CertainlynotPenny.
Enjoy watching me leave, Callahan
Theonlywaytomakehervoicefade,atleastforalittlewhile,istofindsomeoneelsetodistractmyselfwith.It’sthator mope.I really don’thavealegtostandonwhenitcomestoMia’sownhookups,becauseI’vebeentryingtofindcompanyof myownwithallmyfreetime aslongasshe’snotabrunette “He’sonajourney,”Rafsays.
“Tofuckeverybleach-blondeonMcKee’scampus?”Huntercounters “Well,no,”Rafadmits.“Heshouldbefuckingbrunettestoo.” Islingmygearbagovermyshoulder.“Noted.”
“ThereareotherItalianchicksintheworld Lesscrazyones,too” Istopwithmyfootonthedugoutstep.“She’snotcrazy.”
“She’ssomething,”Huntermutters
“Don’t,”Isnap.“Don’tcallhercrazyjustbecauseshebrokeupwithme.Don’tcallanyonecrazy,it’sfuckingrude.” RafaelandHunterexchangealook Raf’sthickeyebrowsgetlostinhisequallythickhair “Canyoubreakupwithsomeone ifyou’renotdating?Ifyou,infact,refusetolabelit,thenfinallysayyestoadatewhenyou’reaskedforthesecondtime,and then fleeandfuckingghosthim?”
Heatcolorsmycheeks Putthatway,mypursuitofhersoundspathetic “Stopit”
“I’mjustaskingthequestion.”
“Stop,” Isayagain, a sharper edge to myvoice. Myheartpounds withthe need to defend her, evenwiththe waythings wentdown Ididn’ttellmybrothereverything,butIhadtotell someone,andIchosemytwobestfriendsoutsidemyfamily I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth, especially because I could tell Raf was working on overtime not to say somethingmassivelyfuckingunkindaboutMia Likenow Tactisaforeignconcepttohim Inevershouldhavementionedthe twohoursIwaitedatVesuvio’sjustincaseshe’dshow.“Don’ttalkabouther.”
Helooksalmostsad “Shedidanumberonyou,man Youneedtodealwithit”
“She’sherefor thesummer,right?”Hunter says.Hisvoiceiscareful again,asifhe’sworriedI’mabouttoblow mylid. “You’regoingtorunintoher.Youneedtofindawaytomoveon.”
“I’mfine Iam”Itakemybaseballcapoffmyheadandshoveitintomybag,runningmyhandthroughmysweatyhair All Ineedisashower,achangeofclothes,andamid-afternoonfuckwithReginafromethicsclass,andI’llbegoodtogo.Miais here for the summer, working on her mentor’s research project, but I’msure she’ll ignore me if we run into each other at StarbucksorStop&Shop.I’llcatchsightofthatgorgeousdarkhairandtinyshardsofmemorieswillbombardme.Thelatenighttexting TheonetimeImanagedtocookforher justbreakfast,butsomething andsheteasedthatitwasbetterthanan orgasm.Theglanceswesharedwhennoonewaslooking,notCooperorPennyoranyofourotherfriends.
MaybeRafaelisright.Ineedtofuckabrunette.“I’llseeyouguysatLark’slater.”
“I’llgetusabooth,”Huntersays “Julio,Levine,andBigMiggyarecomingtoo MaybeHopsandOzzy” “So,halftheteam,”Isaydryly.“We’llneedtwobooths.”
“Thisisthenicetimeofyear,”Rafsays “Lark’sisquiet”
“Notthatwe’renotfansofyourbrother’shockeycrew,”Huntersayswithagrin. Thatgrinis a peace offering. The okayto disappear for the afternoon. Inod, thenjogacross the diamond to the locker room.
BYTHETIME
Ireachthetinycornerofcampuswherethisdormissituated,I’msweatyagain;thedrivewasn’tlongenoughfor theA/Ctokickin.Reginameetsmeatthedoor,lookingjustlikemyvaguememoryfromethicsclass thelemonblondehair, thetiltedsmile wearinganorangesundressthatclingstoherbodyenticingly.
“Sorrythatthere’snoairconditioninginthisbuilding,”shesays,grabbingmyhandanddraggingmetothestairs. Her roomisonthethirdfloor Thebuilding,whichmustbemostlyempty,echoeswithour footsteps She’swearingflipflops,thesolessmackingagainstthewornwoodenfloor,whichiswetforsomereason.Miadoesn’tstrikemeasaflip-flops kind ofgirl I’ll betshe wears sandals ifit’s too hotfor close-toed shoes Ido know thatshe paints her toenails a uniform black.
I give myself a mental shake. Now is definitely not the time to be thinking about Mia di Angelo’s toenails. Not when Regina-whatever-her-last-name-isismakingbedroomeyesatme.Hereyesarebrown,andpretty,Iguess,butamuchlighter shadethanMia’s.Mia’sremindmeoffreshlytilledearth.Beautifulinthemostnaturalway.
BeforeReginaevenopensthedoortoherroom,sheplayswithherdressstraps,lettingthemslipdownhertonedarms “Iwenttoyourgametheotherday,”shesays,hersmileturningslyasshedragshernailsdownmychest.“Doyouhavea bruisefromthatcatch?”
Ileanin,almostbrushingherlips,butnotquite.“Yes.”
“Wantme tokiss itbetter?” She turns her head,her mintybreathwashingover myear before she takes the lobe intoher mouth Heatsparksthroughmeattheteasing,thetemptation,evenifit’swiththewronggirl Herhandsfindthehemofmyshirt, tuggingonit,untilIgetthehintandpullitovermyhead.“That’snottheonlypartofyouIwanttokiss,Sebastian.”
Thisiseasy soeasy NothinkingrequiredbeyonddecidingwhetherIwanttolethersuckmycockorifIwanttofuckher properly.ImadesureIhadacondominmypocketbeforeIgotoutofthecar.Ihitchherlegaroundmywaist,groaningasshe kissesme Ican’thelpturningitintoacomparison,again Herkissistoowet Herbreastsfeelnicepressedagainstme,butare nothingcomparedtotheperkinessofMia’s.Shesmellswrong,too,citrusinsteadofjasmine.
Shegetsthedooropen,andassoonaswe’reinside,sinkstoherknees,hereyesbrightassheflickshergazeupward.She reachesformywaistbandwithherlongpinknails
Istareather,frozen.“Sweetheart ” Someonescreams
Thesoundpiercestheair,sendingmescrambling.InearlyknockReginaoverinmyhastetogettothedoor.Shecallsafter me,butIignoreit,thunderingdownthestairstwoatatime Myheartisinmythroat,beatingintimewithmybreath Iknowthatscream. Delighted inthatscream.Butthisisn’tasoundofpleasure.Thisispanic. AnditbelongstoMia.
Sebastian
E
venaswetasasewerrat,MiadiAngeloisthemostbeautifulwomanI’veeverseen
Myheartrate,whichjackedupthemomentIheardherscream thatveryfuckingfamiliarscream,onethatI’veheardinmy nightmaresandmydreamsalike slowsasItakeinthescene.Igripthedoorframe,willingmyselftobreathenormally.
She’s not hurt Not being axe murdered Just soaked, standing in nearly a foot of mucky water in this tiny dormroom, surroundedbyallthebelongingsI’doncebeenfamiliarwithfromthesuiteshesharedwithPenny.Abeadofwaterrunsdown hercheek.Shewipesatherfacefuriously,herchestheaving.
Reliefruns throughmeinatorrent She’s scowling Practicallysnarling Shelooks likeanangel,her beautiful darkeyes shiningwithemotion. She reminds me of Tangerine whenCooper gives her a bath, petulant and displeased withthe entire situation,butatleastshe’sphysicallyokay
Igiveheragrin,sinceIfigurethat’sthemostlikelywaytogetareactionfromher.“Goforaswim,diAngelo?”
“Whatthe fuck areyoudoinghere?”
“Iwasintheneighborhood.”
Shegivesmeaonce-over.Itensemomentarily,rememberingthefeelingofherlipsonmyCelticknottattoo thesymbol overmyheartthatIsharewithmybrothers
Whenshespeaks,hervoiceisasdryasadesertbreeze.“Shirtless?”
“Letmehelpyou”
“Whowereyoudoing?”sheasks,derisioninhertone.“Thebubblybitchupstairswithavoicelikeadolphin?” “OhmyGod,” Regina says, peeringthroughthe doorway She hops fromfootto footas she hands me myshirt “This is disgusting. ”
Miacrossesherarmsoverherchest.“Sopredictable,Callahan.”
Wasthataflickerofhurtinherexpression?I’mprobablyimaginingit Ipullmyshirtonandwadethroughthechillywater Inearlytripover something,butmanagetosteadymyselfonthebedframe.Abigwater droplethits meintheface.“Letme helpyougetthisstuffoutofhere”
“ThankGodthisdidn’thappenonmyfloor,”Reginasays. “Oh,sure,goodforfuckingyou,”Miasnaps.
Reginablinks,butbeforeshecancomeupwitharetort,Isay,“Regina,call thehousingofficeandtell themtheyneedto sendsomeonetoshutoffthewatertothebuilding.” “But ”
Isqueezeherarm.“It’llbeabighelp.”
Shefluttershereyelashesatme “Myphone’supstairs”
Igivehermybestsmile,theonethatmakesoldwomengiggleandgirlsmyagewanttotakemetobed.“Please?” She leans inandkisses me,her handcuppingmyjaw.She evennips mylip,the actionfull ofpossessiveness.“Onlyfor you,Sebastian.”
Beforesheleaves,sheadds,glancingatMia,“You’re so sweettohelpthispoorgirl.Don’tbetoolong.”
I’veseenhowMialookswhenshe’scontemplatingmurder,andIwouldsayhercurrentexpressiondefinitelyqualifies She practicallybaresherteethasReginaflouncesoff.Themomentwe’realone,however,shebitesherthumbnail,worrybreaking throughhermask
“Fuck,”shesays,hervoicecracking.“WhatamIgoingtodo?”
Itakeinthewetmessofclothesandshoesandotherbelongings.Abeautifulblackjacketlinedwithsilk,oneIpulledoff slowlynottoolongago,isnodoubtdamagedbeyondrepair “LikeIsaid,let’sgetthisstuffoutofhere I’llgrabmygearbag, it’sbigenoughforatleastsomeoftheclothes.”
“I’mnotputtingmyclothesinyourdisgustinggymbag”
“Nooffense,butthey’realreadydisgusting.”Ipickupalacybra,lettingitdanglefrommyfingertip.Shegivesmeastony glare “Comeon,oncethisisalloutofhere,wecanfiguresomethingout” “Ihavemycar,”shesays.“I’llputitinthere.”
“Let’s grabthebaganyway.”Istartdownthehallwaywithoutglancingback.Shemightnotwantanythingtodowithme rightnow,butshe’ssmart She’lltakethehelpI’moffering “I’msurethey’llhavesomewhereelseforyoutostay”
Shesnorts,butfollowsalong.“Maybe.Alotofthedormsarebeingrenovatedthissummer.Guesstheyshouldhaveadded thisonetothelist.”
“Whataboutyourlaptop?”
Shepeersintoherbag.“Thatwasinitscase,soit’sfine.Andmyphoneseemsokay.”Sheinputsthepasscode,frowningat thescreen “That’sgood.”
Herlaughsoundsreedy “ThankGod Idon’thavethemoneytoreplaceeitherofthemrightnow” Iunlockmycar androotaroundinthetrunkfor mybag.It’sfilledwiththe bats I’ve beenusing,myglove,andacouple otherpiecesofgear,butIjustdumpitallout.“I’msorryabouttheclothesandtextbooks.”
She’sbitingherthumbagain “Thanks”
Ittakesacoupletrips,butwegetallherstufffromthefloodedroomtothebackseatofhercar.Someclothesjustneedto bewashed,butshethrowsoutthejacket,plusthatpairofsuedethigh-highbootsIknowsheadores Thewaterruinedsomeof thetextbooksbeyondrepair,whichmusthurt.ThebooksIneedformyhistorymajormakeabigdenttoo.Iknowbetterthanto offertoreplacethem,though She’djustchewmeout,andnowthatI’mwithheragain howeverbrief Idon’twanttowaste it.
IcanpracticallyhearCooper’svoice. Whipped for a girl who won’t give you the time of day? Ican’tkeeptheworryatbayasIlookather Shehasdarkcirclesunderneathhereyesandapinchededgetoherface She deservessomewherenicetostaythissummerwhileshe’sfocusedonherresearch,andatleastrightnow,shedoesn’thavethat. Iwatchhershutthecardoor,swipingherhand withthatbitten-downthumbnail throughherdamphair
The absurd urge to invite her to stayatmyhouse rises, butItamp itdownjustas quickly. She wouldn’twantthathelp either, and I can’t give it, anyway. Youdon’t invite a girl to live withyouwhile you’re tryingto get over her. That’s like decidingtoquitsmokingandimmediatelygoingtobuyanewvape.
Ikeepmygazeonthemaintenancetruckrollingintotheparkinglot.Thecrewwillhaveahellofajobgettingridofallthe water, muchless fixingthe plumbingand ceilings We peered into the bathroomnextto Mia’s room, and sure enough, ithad floodedaswell.
“Wasn’tsureI’dseeyourunderwearagain,diAngelo”
“Shutup,”shesays,butshegivesmeatinysmile.
Inearlypumpmyarminvictory.
“Sebastian,”shesays,sighingassheleansagainsthercar.“I...Iappreciateyourhelp.Thankyou.”
“Don’tmentionit.Yousureyou’regood?”
“IguessI’llstopbythehousingoffice AskiftheyhaveanotherroomIcanmoveto” I nod, shadingmyeyes against the afternoonsun. Fromthis angle, the sunlight acts like a halo, accentuatingthe lighter shadesofherhair It’scurlingattheendsfromthewater,callingupamemory Showeringtogetheratmyplaceafteroneofour rarehookupsthere.Smellingmyshampooinherhair,watchingherredohermakeupinthebathroom.Ihuggedherfrombehind, andshegiggled actuallygiggled asIkissedherneck.
Fuckit
Ican’thavethatagain,butdespitewhathappened,I’mherfriend,andfriendshelpeachother.Evenifthefriendinquestion ispricklyasacactusandhasn’tspokentoyouinoveramonth
“Iftheycan’tgetyouinsomewhereelse,comeandstaywithme.”
Sheblinks Once Twice “No”
“It’sjustmeinthehouserightnow.Meandthecat.YoucouldstayinIzzy’sroom.There’saprivatebathroom.” Shecrossesherarmsoverherchest,givingmeaglimpseofherbellybutton.“Ican’t.” “Can’torwon’t?”
Shesmirks,maskingwhatever’sgoingoninsideherbrillianthead.“Youknowthatwouldn’tbeagoodidea.” “We’refriends”
Shecocksherheadtotheside.“Arewe?”
Enjoy watching me leave, Callahan
Whateverconnectionwemighthaveshared,shedoesn’twanttoexploreitanymore.Imighthateit,butIcan’tforceherto bewithme,evenifIfeeltheurgetotakeherintomyarmsandkissherlikeaphysicalache.
“Seeyouaround,”shesaysfinally “Goodluckonyourgametomorrow” Iwatchasshegetsintohercarandpullsoutofthelot.Despiteherquestion are we, are we, are we Ineedtobitethe insideofmycheektokeepfromsmiling SheknowsIhaveagametomorrow She’spayingattention,atleastonsomelevel Are we?
Webetterfuckingbe.
Reginatextsme,askingwhereIwent.
Thenshesendsapicture.Thatorangesundressisnowheretobeseen.
April 2nd
“Do you care?”
Sebastian doesn’t lift his head from my tits. Even though we finished a couple minutes ago, we ’ re still entwined; his cock halfway inside me, his mouth on my sensitive breasts I scratch my nails through his hair, whimpering when he sucks on a nipple.
“Care about what?” he says I swallow down a rush of embarrassment. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, after all it’s a part of me that I can’t change, and don’t want to change in the first place No matter what my family thinks about it
“That I’m bisexual ”
He does look up then. “Why would I care about that?”
I pull away We’re in my room Penny is with Cooper, again; they went to the Rangers game with his parents and my body protests leaving the cocoon of warmth, of him. I wrap my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my knees. I told myself that this wouldn’t affect me It’s a fair question to ask the guy I’ve been sleeping with, exclusively, for months now. “People assume so many negative things about me because of it. My parents they barely understand. I try not to talk about it with them ”
He sits up too, as unselfconscious about his body as always The silver medallion necklace that he told me belonged to his father glints in the moonlight, accentuated by the dark lines of the tattoo over his heart. “It’s part of you. Part of what makes you Mia I like you, Mia Every part ”
“But people ”
“People are biphobic assholes,” he interrupts He reaches out, brushing his knuckles over my cheek “I don’t care about a bunch of stereotypes that don’t mean a thing anyway. All I care about is that you like me. ” I choke out a little laugh. “I do like you. ” “Then go to dinner with me ” I freeze. The words sink in slowly. He must sense the way my body just seized up, because his hand drops away, putting a little distance between us
“Vesuvio’s,” he says. He laughs slightly as he scrubs at the back of his head. His hair has gotten shaggier. Even though he’s a baseball player, he reminds me of a surfer Golden through and through “We can go out for a proper date, finally” Vesuvio’s is Moorbridge’s nicest restaurant. When my parents dropped me off at McKee my first semester, we went to a celebratory dinner there. I figured the next time I’d go, it would be for my graduation dinner. My dad might even have a reservation already To go there on a date, though? With Sebastian, of all people? It would be so easy to give in. But to do that would mean putting a label on this thing, and it would lead to expectations that I won’t be able to meet I swallow, casting around for something else to focus on. Anything but his bottomless green eyes. “I can’t.”
“Can’t?”
“Not not yet ” He stares. I wonder if maybe he’s going to leave, if I drove him away ahead of schedule, but then he shakes his head slightly and says, “Okay We’ll wait a little longer” He kisses me, and I kiss him back.
And I feel a strange unraveling in my heart
W
heneveningrollsaround,IendupatLark’s IhavemyfakeIDinmywallet,butmostofthetimeIdon’tgetcarded;thisis thesortofplacethatplaysonthefactit’sacollegebar
Idesperatelyneedadrink.That’sthefirstobjectiveoftheevening.
AfterSebastianhelpedmegetmythingsintomycar,Idrovestraighttothehousingofficeandexplainedthesituation The response was, to putitbluntly, bullshit. Until theyshuffle things around, I’mshitoutofluck;theyrecommended stayingata motel, whichIcan’tafford, or crashingwitha friend. Then, atthe laundromat, halfmyclothes shrunkinthe dryer. Ididn’t budgetforawardroberebuildthissummer,butbetweenthatandtheclothesthatwereruinedbytheflood,Ibarelyhaveenough underweartogetmethroughtheweek.
Atleastmylaptopisintact I’ll needthattoworkonthecodefor Professor Santoro,unlessIwanttospendeverysingle momentofmytimeinthelabitself.AndImight’velostmyfavoritepairofboots,butIstillhavemydignity.
Tonight, withmostofthe studentpopulationgone for the summer, it’s nottoo crowded Duringthe semester, a Saturday nightwould meana line outthe door. Locals inthe townofMoorbridge hangouthere too, so it’s notempty, justquiet. The Metsgameplaysononetelevision,theYankeesgameontheother.There’sahockeygameonthethird.
BeforePennystarteddatingCooper,Ididn’tgiveashitabouthockey Honestly,itstillconfusesme Footballconfusesme too,althoughmyfatherandbrotherarehugeEaglesfans.Nonnoenjoyedbaseball,soIwatchedafairbitoftheMetswhenI wasyounger,andIplayedsoftballinmiddleandhighschool Ichooseaseatatthebarinfrontofthattelevisionandordera beer.
Objectivetwo:findsomeonewhowilltakemehomeforthenight
AsIdrovearoundearlier,Iweighedmyoptions.Icouldaskmyparentstopayforamotel,butthatwouldopenthedoorto conversationsI’mnotinterestedinhavingrightnow.Intermsof“friends,”astheMcKeeUniversityhousingofficeputit,Erin wasthefirstpersonIthoughtof,butwe’renotactuallyfriends I’mnotdesperateenoughyettoaskProfessorSantoroifshehas a spare bedroom. Icould call Pennyand askifshe cancheckinwithher dad, buthis girlfriend justmoved in, and anyway, she’sonabigromanticroadtripwithherboyfriend Sebastianis not anoption,evenifhe’saloneinanicehousewithcentral airconditioningandacuddlycatthathappenstobelongtomybestfriend.Iwouldratherwalkbarefootoverbrokenglassthan dealwiththetemptationwhenIcan’tfuckinghavehimanddon’tdeservehiminthefirstplace.
Thatleavesastrangerasmybestoption.
I might be livinginmycar temporarily, but I managed to make myself looklike a snackinthe tiny, moldylaundromat bathroom,soaslongassomeonereasonablyattractiveandsinglewalksthroughthedoor,Ishouldbegoodtogo Idon’tpull outthis pinkfloral sundress thatoften;it’s toobrightfor mytaste,butit’ll ensure thateveryone whowalks throughthe door noticesme Evenifwhoeveritissucksinbed,it’llstillbea bed That’sbetterthansleepinginmycarinthedormparkinglot andhopingthatcampussecuritydoesn’tnotice.
“Metsfan?”
Aman,probablyinhislatetwenties,slidesintothechairnexttomine.Hegesturestothebartender.“I’llhavethesameas her,andgetheranother.”
Iforcemyselftosmile He’snotunattractive justordinary Beard,brownhaircurlingoverhiscollar,straightwhiteteeth Thebeginningsofatanonhisfairface.Ifheknowswheretheclitorisis,I’lltakethatasawin.“Thanks.”
“No problem, darlin’” He angles his bodytoward mine He must’ve come fromwork;he’s wearinga navysuitwitha whitebutton-down.Iglanceathishand,fingersdrummingonthebartop,andnearlydoalittledancewhenIdon’tfindaring. “Areyouhereforthegameorthebooze?”
Itakealongpullofbeer Thefizzburnsgoingdown It’snotmyfirstchoiceofdrink,butIdidn’twanttogetintothehard alcoholwhenI’msupposedtobepickingsomeoneup.“Can’titbeboth?”
Heclinkshisbeeragainstmine “Awomanaftermyownheart”
“Youcomefromwork?”
Henods,settingthebeerdownaftertakingasip “Finance,inthecity IjusthadtogetoutofManhattan,youknow?Don’t mindthecommuteifIhavequietattheendoftheday.”
Finance.Ifhe’snotlyingtoimpressme andIdon’tthinkheis,giventhequalityofthesuit hemusthaveanicehouse.I tuckmyhair behindmyear,anglingmynecktothe side Ichose a necklace longenoughthatthe pendant,a simple goldbar,
nestlesinthehollowbetweenmybreasts,andbythewayheglancesdown,Icantellthathe’sintoit Hescootscloser,heatin hisgaze.
Ipretendtoponderhiswords “Igetit Ilikethequiettoo I’magraduatestudenthereattheuniversity” “What’syourfieldofstudy?Notthatyouneedtodomuchbeyondflauntingthatbody.”Hesetshishandonmythigh. Inearlychokeonmynextsipofbeer Iturnmysurpriseintoasmileandsay,“Chemistry” ImadeupmymindtoliebeforeIevenarrived,butafterthat,hedefinitelydoesn’tgetthetruth.Lethimthinkwhatever,as longashe’sagoodenoughlayanddoesn’thurtme Idon’tthinkhe’sthatkindofperson justalittleforward.Forwardisn’tabadthinginthiscase. “Chemistry,”herepeats.Hisgripgetsalittlemoredeliberate,bunchingthefabricofmydresslikehewantstopushitupto getaglimpseofmypanties “Isitjustme,oramIfeelingalittlechemistryrightnow?” Yikes.Yes?No?
Whatever Abedisabed Iduckinclose,lettingmybreathwashoverhisear.Idon’tmissthewayheshudders. “Idon’tknow,”Ipurr “I’dhavetoconductamorethoroughexperiment” “Thereyouare,sweetheart,”avoicesays.“SorryI’mlate.”
Ijerkback andfindmyselflookingintoSebastian’sgem-greeneyes
Heglancesdown,hislipcurlingwithdisgustashetakesinthepositionofthedude’shand Hemovesbetweenus,picksup hishand,removesitfrommythigh,andpatshisarmconsolingly.“Thanksforkeepingmygirlcompany,man.” Iscowl,hopinghehearsthevenomineverysinglesyllableasItalk “Whatthehelldoyouthinkyou’redoing?”
Theguyputsuphishands,unsurewhethertofocusonmeorSebastian.Hewetshislips thenthrowsmeanaccusinglook. Sebastianhasastonyexpressiononhisface,asifheactuallyjustdiscoveredsomeguytwosecondsawayfromfeelingup his girl IwishIcould kickhim Fromthis angle, ifItried, I’d justfall offthe bar stool Indignationrushes throughme like wildfire.How dare hegetinthemiddleofthis.
“Ididn’tknowshebelongedtosomeone Iswear”
Sebastiantiltshisheadtotheside.“Interesting.Doesthatmakewomenproperty?”
“What?No,Ijust ”
“She’sherownperson.”Heshrugs,stillcasual,althoughsomethingdarksimmersinhisgaze,likehewisheshecouldslam theguy’sheadagainstthebartop.“Somaybeconsiderthatthenexttimeyouopenyourmiserablefuckingmouth.”
“I swear I didn’t know She’s the one who came onto me” He gestures to me, anylingeringinterest inhis expression dryingupinfavorofasnarl.“IfIwereyou,I’dbemoreworriedaboutyourslutofa ” Sebastiantossesatwentyonthebartop “Getout” “I’mnot ”
“Goodbye”Hejerkshisheadinthedirectionofthedoor “Gogetyourpatheticdicksuckedsomewhereelse”
Theguylooksaround,buteveryoneisstudiouslyignoringus.Eventhebartenderislettingthesituationroll,atleastforthe timebeing.
“Youcan’tjustkickmeout,”heprotests “Thisisbullshit”
“SureIcan.”Sebastianleans in,closeenoughIcansmell his cologne.Heflexes slightly,showingoffthattightlycorded strengththat’seasytoforgetaboutwhenitcomestohim “YoucanleaveonyourownorIcanmakeithurtfirst,yourpick” Theguyscramblesoffthestoolandoutofthebar.
Assoonashe’sgone,IwhirlonSebastian.“Whatthefuckwasthat?”
“Whatthefuckwas that?”Helaughsincredulously.“Whatwereyoudoing,Mia?” “It’snoneofyourbusiness.”
Hismouthtwists “Ican’tbelievethiswasyourbigsolution”
Itakeastepcloser.Intheseheels,we’renearlythesameheight,buthestillhasaninchonme.Andenoughmuscletothrow mearound,afactmybodyremembersalltooeagerly “Whatsolution,Sebastian?Bespecific”
“Let’ssee,”hesays,holdingouthishand,tickingoffthereasonswithhisfingersashetalks.Hisvoiceisquietenoughno onecanhearbutme,buttheforceofitcomesthroughloudandclear.“Theuniversityemailedtwohoursagotosayon-campus housingisscramblingtorearrangethingsafterafloodinoneofthedormsopenforsummerstudents.Ifyouhadsomewhereto stay,you’dbemovinginyour things,nothere.You’re drinkinga beer,butyouprefer bourbon.You’re wearinga pinkdress, andyouhatepink Youwereflirtingwithatotalloser,lettinghimtouchyouwhenyoudon’tlikebeingtouchedbystrangers” Hecockshisheadtotheside.“Wantmetokeepgoing?”
Icanfeeltheblushcoloringmycheeks,butIkeepmyheadhigh
“That’snotwhatthatwas”
“Youdon’twanttocrashwithme,fine,butcallPenny’sdad,then.Don’tfuckastrangerfortheprivilegeofabed.”
“MaybeIjustlikedhim.”
Helaughsshortly “Iknowwhatyoulike,sweetheart,andthat’snotit” Icrossmyarmsovermychest.I’mnotacrier,butIcanfeelemotionwindingthroughme,theresultofadayfullofstress, andneedtoswallow “Youhave no ideawhatIlikeanymore”
He throws another twenty onto the bar. Another reminder of that special privilege that comes from being a Callahan: wealth Thefamilyisloaded,andSebastianandhissiblingsallhavetrustfunds I,meanwhile,haveacarefulamountofmoney stashedaway,andI’mplanningtotouchitaslittleaspossiblethissummer.
“Comeon,”hesays.“We’regoinghome.”
Hereachesformyelbow,butIjerkaway “I’mfine IhavesomewhereIcango”
“We’refriends.”Hurtflashesacrosshisface,aboltoflightningaheadofasummerstorm.“Don’tlietome.” Erin.She’llletmespendthenight.“I’mnot.”
“I’mnotlettingyousleepinyourgoddamncar” “Letme?You’renotmyfather.”Isnort.“You’renotmyfuckingboyfriend,either.” Hedoesn’trisetothebait Hejustshakeshishead,calmasalways “We’lltalkaboutthisatthehouse” “No.”
“Outsidethebar,then”
Iglancearound.Hisbaseballbuddiessprawlacrosstwooftheredleatherbooths,laughing,beersinhand.Theymusthave comeinwhileIwasfocusingonmymaybe-hookup,andSebastiansawwhatwasgoingon.“What,afraidthey’lloverhear?” Hisexpressionsoftensslightly “Iwon’tmakeyourbusinesseveryone’sbusiness Iwouldn’tdothattoyou” Ilethimleadmeoutside.
Heleansagainstthebrickwalloutsidethebar,concernradiatingfromhimlikeabeacon Idiginmypurseformyphone OnenightwithErin,andthenmaybeI’llworkupthecouragetoaskPennyifshecantalktoherdad.It’snotthatIdon’tlikeher father,he’saniceguy Ijustdon’twanttoimpose,toassumetobecloseenoughtoPennytoaskforthatkindoffavor She’s thefirsttruefriendI’vehadinyears,andIdon’twanttodoanythingtoruinthat.
“Cometothehousewithme,”Sebastiansays.“Nooneneedstoknowunlessyouwantthemto.YoucansleepinIzzy’spink monstrosityofabedroom,andIwon’tbotheryou,Ipromise Ihaveagametomorrow,soI’llbeupandoutearly” Ibecame casual friends withIzzyover the pastsemester, and I’ve beeninher bedroombefore. Her bed is ridiculously comfortable,albeitverypink Ibarelysleptthenightbefore,inthatstupid,stickydormroom,andthethoughtofconkingout amidallthosesilkthrowpillowsismorethanalittletempting.
IfnotforthefactthatSebastian’sbedroomisnextdoor.
“Ican’tpayyouanythingforit,”Isay.
“Idon’twantyourmoney.”
Ishakemyhead “AndIcan’ttakeadvantageofyoulikethat”
“Wouldn’tbetakingadvantage.”Heleansin,andbythewayheraiseshishandbeforestuffingitintohispocket,I’dbetthat twentyhejustleftonthebarthatpartofhimwantstopullmeintoahug I’dalmostmanagedtoforgetabouthispropensityfor physicaltouch.Ioughttoscrambleaway,tosafety,butIcan’tbringmyselftomove.He’scloseenoughthatIcanfeelhisbreath onmyear.“Butifitmakesyoufeelbetter,youwouldn’tstayforfree.I’dneedyoutotellmesomething.” Iwillmyvoicetobecomesteel.“Tellyouwhat?”
Hepulls backfar enoughthatour gazes meet.Iwonder ifhehas this sameintensityonhis facewhenhe’s inthebatter’s box The sun has slipped below the horizon, so his face is half-bathed in the streetlamp’s light, one eye dark, the other illuminated. He’s achinglyhandsome. Practicallygolden. Myheartthrums fromhis nearness. Mybodyclenches traitorously, sendingheattoplacesthatarealltoohardtoignore “Whyyousaidyou’dgoonadatewithme,thenstoodmeup.”
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THE BACK YARD
CHAPTER I
THE BACK YARD
It was a queer jumbled up place, that back yard of the house where Cassy and Jerry Law lived; old barrels tumbled to pieces in one corner, empty tomato cans rolled against cast-off shoes in another; here bits of broken crockery wedged themselves in between a lot of shingles, and there a pile of iron scraps crowded against a bottomless chair; on a clothes-line flapped several pairs of overalls and a stunted little tree bore upon its branches sundry stockings of various sizes and conditions.
It was a discouraging looking place, but Cassy, intently bending over a pile of dirt near the bottomless chair, did not heed anything but the fact that two tiny green shoots were poking themselves up from the unpromising soil. She was a thin-faced, bright-eyed child, not pretty, but with an eager, wistful expression, and as her face lit up with a sudden smile she looked unusually intelligent.
“Jerry, come here,” she cried; “I’ve got a garden.”
“Sho!” returned Jerry, “I don’t believe it.”
“I have so; just you come and look at it.” Cassy tossed back the locks of brown hair that hung over her eyes and softly patted with her two small hands the dry earth around the springing blades of green. Jerry came nearer. “It’s truly growing,” Cassy went on. “I didn’t stick it in the ground myself to make believe; just see.”
Jerry bent his sandy-colored head nearer to the object of his sister’s admiration.
“’Tain’t nothin’ but a old weed,” he decided at last.
“How do you know?”
“I just believe it.”
“Well, you don’t know, and I think it is just as good to believe it will grow to be a beautiful flower.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Jerry said.
“Why not?”
“’Cause.”
“But just maybe,” Cassy insisted pleadingly. “Why couldn’t it? I don’t see why not.”
“’Cause,” repeated Jerry, “I never saw no flowers growing in this back yard.”
“But Mrs. Boyle has some right next door, and oh, Jerry, Mrs. Schaff across the street has some great big lovely red ones. Please let’s hope this will be a flower.”
“Well,” replied Jerry, doubtfully, “I’ll pretend, but if it isn’t, you mustn’t say: Now, Jerry, what made you let me believe in it?”
“I won’t; I truly won’t.”
“All the same,” said Jerry, “I don’t see how you can keep it from being trampled on.”
Cassy looked alarmed.
“You see it’s right out here where anybody can pull it up or do anything. Billy Miles would rather tear it to pieces than not if he thought you wanted to keep it.”
Cassy’s distress increased. “Couldn’t we hide it or something?”
“We might for a little while, but if it should grow and grow why then anybody could find it out.”
“Oh, dear,” sighed Cassy, “it’s like Moses when they had to put him in the bulrushes. Maybe it will be a little wee bit of a flower and after a while we could come and dig it up and set it in the window. I know what I’ll do; I’ll set that old chair over it and then maybe nobody will notice it.”
“There’s a piece of chicken wire off over there,” said Jerry, goodnaturedly. “I’ll get that and sort of twist it around the chair, then it will make a fence for it. Sh! There’s Billy, and if he sees us he will play the mischief with any fun of ours.”
Cassy arose hastily to her feet and faced the back door from which Billy’s form was just issuing. There was no love lost between Billy and the Law children.
“What yer doin’?” questioned Billy, looking suspiciously at Cassy’s defiant attitude.
“Nothin’.”
“Humph! I don’t believe ye.”
Cassy spread out her hands.
“Well, see, am I doing anything? Did you think I was eating strawberries or swinging in a hammock?”
“You’re too smart,” returned Billy. He came over and peered around. “You’ve got somethin’ in among those cans.”
Cassy tossed up her chin.
“You’re welcome to all you find in them.”
Billy turned one over with his foot, looked among the scraps of iron and then said:
“You’re just bluffin’, but I’ll find out.” And he climbed the fence into the next yard.
As soon as his stout legs had disappeared Cassy whirled the old chair around till it stood over her treasured plant. Jerry disengaged the strip of chicken wire from its surroundings and contrived a sort of coop-like structure which did not attract the eye, yet kept the small green shoots safely hidden without excluding the light and air.
“Now let’s go tell mother,” said Cassy, and took to her heels, Jerry following.
Up the shabby dark stairway they ran, Cassy stepping lightly, Jerry, boy-like, with clattering tread. Mrs. Law glanced up from her
sewing as they entered. “We’ve got a garden,” said Cassy in a loud whisper.
“What do you mean?” inquired her mother, breaking off her thread with a snap.
“We have truly,” Cassy insisted. “It’s under an old chair in the back yard.”
“That’s a queer place for a garden,” responded her mother, rethreading her needle and taking swift stitches.
“Yes, but it happened itself, you know, and so we have to have it there. We’re so afraid Billy Miles will pull it up. Jerry thinks maybe it’s a weed, but we’re going to hope it’s a flower, a real flower. What would you like it to be, mother, a rose?”
“I’m afraid that would be setting my hopes too high. Let me see, perhaps it might be a morning-glory.”
“Are they pretty, morning-glories?”
“Yes, very.”
“What color?”
“All colors, but the common ones are generally purple or blue.”
“I’d like them to be blue. What do they look like?”
“They grow on a vine, and the flowers are little vase-like cups that open first thing in the morning and close when the sun shines on them.”
“But they open the next day?”
“No, not the same flower, but others do. They bloom very freely, although each one lasts only a little while.”
“Do they smell sweet?”
“I never noticed that they did.”
Cassy was not entirely satisfied with this description and sat very still thinking about it. After awhile she broke out with: “You don’t think it could be any other kind of a flower?”
“Oh, I didn’t say so. Of course it might be. We can tell very soon. I know the leaves of a morning-glory, and when I get time I will go down and look at your plant. Yes, I know morning-glories well enough. There used to be a great mass of them over the back fence where we used to live; all colors, blue and pink and lovely white ones striped. I used to think they were very beautiful.” She sighed and worked faster. “Don’t go out, Jerry,” she said presently. “This work must go home this evening.”
“May I go with Jerry?” asked Cassy.
Her mother hesitated and then replied, “Yes, but don’t stay.”
Spring was well on its way as open windows and doorsteps swarming with children showed, but in this narrow street there were no perfume-laden airs; it seemed instead that all the foul odors were made more evident by the warmer weather, and as the brother and sister made their way through the slovenly groups of loungers, there was little to make them realize the beauty of a world where green trees and sweetly smelling orchards made the heart glad.
They took their way along soberly enough, Jerry lugging the big bundle and his sister trotting along by his side. From the narrow street they turned into a broader one where shops of all kinds were arrayed along the way. Into one of these the children turned, delivered their bundle and hurried out. They never tarried long at the place, for they did not feel comfortable under the old Jew’s sharp eyes, and did not enjoy being stared at by the two big boys who were always there, too.
“We did hurry,” said Cassy when they reached the corner. “And see, Jerry, there are trees with tiny green leaves on them behind that wall. I have always wanted so much to see what was behind that wall. Do you believe you could climb it?”
“Yes, ’course I could, but the cops wouldn’t let me.”
“I do want to know so much,” repeated Cassy wistfully. “There is a gate, you know, but it’s boards, and it’s always shut tight. Can’t we walk around that way now? It won’t take us long and it’s so much nicer than the other way.”
“I don’t know why,” said Jerry. “Brick walls ain’t so awful pretty.”
“No, but the trees are getting green; little bits of baby leaves are coming out on them and we can see them above the wall. Let us go that way.”
“All right,” agreed Jerry.
They trotted along till the brick wall was reached and then Cassy exclaimed excitedly: “Oh, Jerry, I believe the gate is open; there is a man there with a wheelbarrow. Oh, do hurry.”
She ran forward as fast as her legs would carry her and sure enough the gate was open and beyond it smiled such a garden as Cassy had never before seen. Tulips, red and yellow, flaunted themselves in their little round beds, daffodils nodded sunnily from the borders, primroses and pansies, flowering bush and early shrub were all in bloom. Cassy drew a long breath of delight. Was ever anything ever so beautiful? Her eager little face was bent forward and her big eyes were taking in the whole scene when the gardener came out trundling his wheelbarrow.
“Take care, sis,” he warned, “don’t stand in the way.”
“Oh!” Cassy exclaimed, scarcely noticing what he said. “Oh, isn’t it beautiful?”
The gardener smiled.
“’Tain’t so bad. You can step inside the gate out of the way, if you want to.”
“And Jerry, too?” Cassy asked as her brother came up.
The gardener looked suspiciously at Jerry. He had reasons for not thinking well of small boys.
“He’d better stay outside,” he said; but seeing Cassy’s disappointed face he yielded. “If you’ll keep right there by the gate I guess you’ll do no harm,” he told Jerry, and the two children stepped inside.
Such a waft of sweet odors as met them, and such a glory of color. The gardener glanced at Cassy’s rapt face as he trundled in his last
load of sand, and he looked pleased.
“You like it pretty well, don’t you?” he said. “If I had time I’d show you about, but I’ve got to get some plants potted before night, and I’ve got to shut the gate now,” he added regretfully.
Cassy turned slowly, her eyes still lingering upon the borders.
“She’s wanted to see the inside of this place more’n anything,” Jerry confided to the gardener as Cassy’s steps lagged, “but the gate ain’t ever been open before.”
“Then I’m glad it happened to be this time when you were by,” said the gardener heartily. “Some day if you happen to see me when I’ve got time I’ll take you all over the garden.”
“Oh, thank you, sir, thank you. I’d love that. Have you any morning-glories?”
The man laughed.
“No, pesky things; they grow so fast that they’d get the best of me in no time; though, now I think of it, there were some by the kitchen door last year. The cook planted them, and I guess they’ll come up again this summer too plentiful for my use. Do you like ’em, sis?”
“I never saw any,” Cassy told him. “But I want to.”
She turned away as the gardener made ready to shut the gate, and all the way home she had scarcely a word to say. “It was like the garden of Eden,” she said under her breath once.
“I think he might have given us some flowers,” said Jerry.
“Maybe he couldn’t,” returned Cassy “They aren’t his. I think he was very good to let us go in. Oh, Jerry, how happy, how happy people must be who have a garden like that.”
There was excuse enough for their having tarried when they reached home at dusk to find their simple little supper of mush and molasses ready for them. Cassy could talk of nothing but the garden, and all night long she dreamed of nodding flowers and green trees.
In the morning her first thought was of the two green shoots under the old chair in the back yard. Perhaps the plant needed water; she would go down and see before any one was up. Carefully carrying a cupful of water she went down the rickety steps which led to the back yard.
The little green shoots had stretched further up out of the dry earth, to the child’s delight. Lifting the chair with a cautious look around she poured the water upon the earth and watched it sink into the ground. She crouched there for some time as if she would discover the plant’s manner of growing.
At last she arose with a sigh. Such a poor little garden compared to the one she had seen yesterday, but what possibilities did it not hold? This tiny plant might yet show gorgeous blooms of red and yellow, or send forth big bunches of pink. Her thoughts went rioting along when they were interrupted by a hoarse laugh, and looking up startled, she saw the grinning face of Billy Miles peering over the fence.
“I caught ye,” he jeered. “I seen ye. What yer got buried there?”
“Nothing,” returned Cassy stoutly.
“Yer another,” retorted Billy, clambering over the fence. “What yer got in that cup?”
Cassy turned the cup upside down, but Billy was not satisfied. He came threateningly towards her, taking no heed of where he was stepping.
“Oh, take care,” cried Cassy, forgetting caution in her alarm lest his heavy tread should crush her precious plant.
Billy looked down.
“Ye tried to fool me,” he cried, seeing the moist circle out of which stretched the green shoots.
“I didn’t, either.”
Billy for answer gave a savage kick and snap went the little stalk. Cassy burst into tears, picked up her treasured plant and went flying
up-stairs. She laid the tiny stalk before her mother, and hiding her face in her hands sobbed bitterly.
Jerry, still frowsy and unkempt, issued from his bit of a room.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking at Cassy in concern. For answer Mrs. Law held up the broken stalk, and Jerry looked his sympathy.
“Never mind, don’t cry so, dear,” Mrs. Law said at last. “Very likely it wouldn’t have lived anyhow.”
“How did it happen?” whispered Jerry.
“Billy Miles,” Cassy whispered back, choking down her sobs. “He saw me watering it and he got mad and kicked it to death. Oh, my poor little flower that was going to be a morning-glory. It was, wasn’t it, mother?”
Mrs. Law examined the broken leaves.
“I think perhaps it was,” she replied.
“Won’t it live if I plant it in a box?” asked Cassy, this new hope causing her tears to cease.
“I’m afraid not.”
“I’ll get even with Billy Miles,” muttered Jerry; then louder he said, “Cheer up, Cass; I’ll get you a real, righty flower, see if I don’t.” He looked at his mother for encouragement.
“How will you do it?” asked Cassy, interested.
“Never you mind. I will, honest, I will. I’ll tell mother.” And drawing Mrs. Law to one side he confided to her his plan.
All day long Jerry was absent, and when Cassy asked where he was, her mother only smiled, though if the truth were known he was not very far away, for he was keeping watch by the gate in the garden wall. If that gardener should but once appear Jerry knew well what he meant to do. He did not come home even to dinner, but munched a crust he had stuffed in his pocket, and kept his eye on the gate.
