After changing, I make my way out to the stadium parking lot and see my former teammate propped against my truck.
“Carter Barlowe. Tough loss, man. Better luck tomorrow.” Mac bends his elbow, swinging his arm around. “How’s the arm, old man?”
“Get the hell outta here!” Dundee yells across the lot, causing Mac’s satisfaction to grow, but he smirks and walks away. We all know it’s a mind game, and anyone with half a brain can see that I’m struggling mentally. So the guys who know me, know I’m an easy target.
“Lowe,” Dundee shouts as he walks over. I brace myself, sighing and putting my hands on my hips. I fully expect him to lecture me again, but he only tells me to call him if I want to go over the lineup before he walks off.
I don’t need to review game strategy. I know those hitters and their stats inside and out. I know how they play, how they think. I know what they swing at and what scares them, where their hot and cold zones are. I know the pitches I need to throw. I just need to show up tomorrow and perform.
31
AVERY
“You ready?” Bodie stands at my door, grinning ear-to-ear, donning his Coyote jersey.
“No. Just watch the game with your brothers or something.”
“I don’t think Carter would appreciate me giving these seats away.” Bodie holds up a white envelope, pulling out two tickets before shoving them back in the envelope and passing it to me.
“What is this?” I ask, reading the outside of the envelope.
See you at the game. –C.B.
“Why would he do this?” He’s yet to reply to my message from four days ago but wants me at the game where he’s throwing against his former team.
“Dunno. But chop, chop so we’re not too late. These are some kick-ass seats.” Bodie grabs the envelope from me, tucking it into his pocket as he pushes me towards my bedroom. “Do you even own a jersey? Or anything Coyote-blue?”
“No, of course not,” I nearly scoff.
“Figures. How does the starting pitcher’s girlfriend not even have his jersey?”
“Probably because I’m not his girlfriend.” I walk into the kitchen, pour a second cup of coffee, and dig in my heels. I know Bodie isn’t going to drop his quest of getting me to the game. And the last time we were in this situation, it tilted my world on its axis, sending Carter into my orbit where he doesn’t belong. “I can’t go.”
“Yeah, you can. You have to. He sent these and wants you there. You really gonna turn him down after you’ve been sulking without him around?”
“I have not been sulking.” Damn it. Why does Bodie play the annoying brother role so well?
“Sure, McPouty. Just throw something on, we can swing by and pick up a jersey for you.”
“This is not a good idea.”
“Last time didn’t turn out so bad.”
“Not sure everyone would agree with that statement, Bodie.”
He pulls the envelope out of his pocket, pointing at the ink. “This tells me otherwise, McGloomy.” He tucks it back into his pocket for safekeeping. “Now, get ready before traffic gets bad.”
Is Carter testing me to see if I’ll show and support him? Or show and read a book again? Definitely not taking that route again, especially since I actually want to see how the game plays out.
“Fine. But I’m not wearing a jersey.” Especially his. I have to maintain some of my baseball indifference. I surely can’t show up in his jersey, not with the uncertainty of whatever the hell is happening between us.
“Whatever you say, McDenial. Move your ass!”
32
CARTER
“Last chance, Lowe.” Coach motions towards the field from the bullpen. The crowd roars around us. Even they know there’s some beef there when I’m pitching on my new turf against my old team.
Fortunately, I woke up ready. Nothing is different, but this is what I do. This is my game. I go out there and get the job done. For me, not him. “I’m ready.”
Dundee hesitates but nods for me to take the mound for my final warm-up. I’m good. I can do this. I need to redeem myself after my last two piss-poor performances. Because the only things worse than pitching for my dad’s old team is not pitching at all. And Dundee has made clear that if I don’t show the organization I’m good for the full season, I could be out next year. And so far, I’m not sure another team would pick me up.
Avery’s face enters my mind, making me question whether I’d want to leave this town. There’s still something deep inside me that hopes Brooks is right and I’m just full of bullshit and Avery and I aren’t done.