Stealing Parker

Page 32

 

  “Nice!” I say, smacking my glove. “Three up, three down, Laura. ”

  The next batter up is Travis Lake. Laura takes a deep breath and gets ready to pitch. He hits a groundball to me, and I easily make the grab and hurl the ball to Allie at first. Two down.

  Drew bats third, slamming a line drive over Mel’s head. He stretches it into a double. Will bats cleanup but doesn’t manage to clean anything up. He hits a line drive to Laura, and she catches it for out number three.

  Coach has me leading off. Since I’ve shed a lot of weight, I’ve gotten way fast—fast enough to bat first. Jake Sanders pitches the softball overhand, which is kinda weird. I let the first pitch pass. On the second, I bunt and sprint down the first base line faster than Paul can pick up the ball and bomb it. Mom and Dad yell my name and clap. Mel is up next. She smacks the ball over the shortstop’s head, and I hurl myself around second toward third. The left fielder launches the ball to Will at third. I slide into the bag right as Will tags my leg.

  “Out!” the ump says.

  I pull myself to my feet and brush the dirt off my pants. I give Will a quick smile before jogging to the dugout.

  Our teams stay tied at zero-zero over the next three innings. In the fifth, Sam slams a homer over the left field wall. He showboats around the bases, dancing and acting up.

  One-zero, Boys.

  In the sixth inning, I hit a triple, knocking two runs in, and Allie also earns two RBI. In the same inning, Will hits a homer and brings Drew home. Before the eighth, the crowd sings “Take Me Out to the Ball Game. ” I’m having a great time, even if I’m not really speaking to anybody and nobody’s speaking to me. As usual. It’s just fine. I love this game.

  In the top of the ninth, we’re still up four-three with one out. Tim Keale hits a line drive straight into the hole. I lurch left and snatch the ball, then chase Will back toward second base. I outrun him, tagging his back.

  “Out!” the ump yells.

  We win!

  My team rushes toward the pitcher’s mound, screaming and hollering and jumping in circles. I smile to myself and pound the softball into my mitt.

  “Good game,” Will says, clapping my back and hustling toward the dugout. The guys I used to manage are packing up their equipment, acting like the game meant nothing. I can tell their pride is hurt. Will says something to the guys, and then they walk back onto the field. They start shaking hands with the girls and say, “Good game. ”

  Sam asks Laura, “So what’s the prom theme gonna be?”

  “Disney,” she replies, making everyone groan. And I mean everyone.

  “Oh God,” Will says, adjusting his cap.

  “Wait,” Allie says. “We need to discuss this as a team. ”

  The girls huddle together, but I stay on the outskirts, not really caring. They’re arguing, calling out all sorts of ridiculous themes. “Titanic!” “Christmas in May!” “Paris!” “Vegas!” “Cowboys and Aliens!”

  Sam slips two fingers in his mouth and whistles. “Parker made the winning play. Let’s hear what she wants. ”

  “Ancient Rome,” I say, grinning, thinking about the theme Sam has been jockeying for. “The decorations can be fake columns and gold lights and stuff. ”

  “I like that idea,” Allie says, and Mel nods.

  “What about Disney?” Laura asks, bouncing on her toes.

  “I dressed as Sleeping Beauty when I was, like, five,” Sydney says. “It’s been done. ”

  “If we pick Ancient Rome, we’ll all get to wear beautiful white gowns and crowns of ivy,” I add.

  “I love that!” Allie says.

  “I can wear my gold strappy sandals,” Mel replies.

  “I have a white chiffon dress,” Chelsea Clark says.

  And the guys can show up in togas. I grin to myself.

  “Sam,” Allie says. “The theme is Ancient Rome. ”

  He gapes and says in mock horror, “That’s a terrible idea. ” Under his breath, he says to me, “Nice one. ”

  Will lets out a laugh and gives me a quick smile, revealing the dimple I haven’t seen in weeks.

  I grab my bat bag and head toward my parents, running into Mr. and Mrs. Whitfield on the way. Bo’s curled up in his mom’s arms, playing with her necklace and sucking his thumb.

  Mr. Whitfield shakes my hand. “I can’t believe you made that double play. It was great. ”

  “You need to come over for dinner sometime soon,” his wife says. “It was so nice of you to give Bo a birthday present. Do you have something to say to Parker?” Mrs. Whitfield asks him.

  He takes his thumb out of his mouth. “Thank you,” he says, then deposits the thumb right back where it was.

  “You’re very welcome. ” It surprises me that the Whitfields are speaking to me, considering all the rumors flying around about what happened with Brian. I move to walk off but Mrs. Whitfield speaks again.

  “We miss seeing you around,” she says quietly. “Will hasn’t said as much, but he’s been down. ”

  I give her a quick smile. “I miss him too,” I mumble.

  Trey is yanking on his mother’s jeans and yelling something about a trip to McDonald’s, so I excuse myself and go meet Dad and Mom. Her hug feels like the warmest blanket on the coldest night. Thanks, God, for giving her back.

  going the distance

  18 years old

  “I love it. ”

  I pull the dress out of the box and hold it in front of my body. It’s covered in blue and white flowers.

  “It’s a vintage ballerina dress. From the 1950s,” Mom says, taking the full-bodied skirt between her fingers. “I figure you can wear it to graduation. We’ll probably have to get it altered. ”

  Dad looks pleased. He sips his coffee. I carefully place the dress back in its box.

  “This is from me,” Ryan says, pushing a gift bag across the table.

  I dig through the pink tissue paper to find an envelope containing a gift certificate for a mani-pedi at Elizabeth Arden. “Thanks! It’s perfect. ”

  A smile flits across his face. I open Dad’s present next. It’s a new iPhone, something we can’t even begin to afford.

  I’m grinning like crazy. “Dad, this is too much. ”

  “It’s fine—your mom and I went in on it together. ” I jump out of my chair to give both of my parents a hug. Ryan lets me hug him too, and I’m happy that my family’s together again. Maybe not in the way I wish we were together, but it’s close enough.

  “Cake and ice cream?” Mom asks.

  “Sure,” I reply, thinking I might eat the entire piece. I’m still not used to big portions, but I’ll try. I blow out the candles, and the four of us dig into Mom’s red velvet cake with cream cheese icing.

  I hear a rap on the door. I swallow a bite of cake and go to answer it. I find Drew standing there. He hasn’t knocked in years; he always lets himself right in.

  “Hey,” I say, stepping onto the porch. Moths flit around the porch light.

  “Happy birthday,” he says, passing me a gift wrapped in silvery paper. It makes me happy that he remembered.

  “Is this from you?” I ask, hardly believing he got me a birthday present.

  “Yes. ” He takes a step back and hops to the grass, avoiding my face.

  “Should I open it now?”

  “Whatever you want. ”

  I stare at the gift. I glance up at him. “Thank you. I’d better get back inside. ” I point over my shoulder at the house.

  “Okay. Good night. ” I step inside as he says, “Wait. I know the truth. ”

  “The truth about what?” I reply, facing him again.

  He slips his hands into his pockets. “That nothing had happened between you and Corndog. He told me the truth. ”

  I nod slowly and bite on my lower lip, running my fingers over the silver wrapping paper.

  “I just needed some time…to process everything, you know?” he sa
ys, glancing at my face.

  I sit down Indian-style on the top stair of our stoop and slice open the envelope. Drew grabs a seat on the bottom step.

  Before I read the card, I think about how Drew left me a couple weeks ago when I needed him most. How I’ve gotten stronger. He acted just like Laura did, and I’m not sure I want to have another friendship like hers, where the friend dictates everything. But Drew stayed with me when Mom went away. He only left me when his feelings were hurt terribly. I could’ve handled it better. Now he’s back, and that sort of counts for everything.

  The card reads, It’s not a real safari on the Serengeti, but it’s the best I’ve got. Drew

  I take a breath. I slowly unwrap the silver paper to find a wooden kaleidoscope. I angle it toward the light and twist it, watching the red, purple, orange and blue spiral and mesh together. Animal shapes fill my field of vision. A giraffe, a hippo, and a turtle.

  Maybe all friendships don’t fizzle. Maybe, like the kaleidoscope, the colors just change.

  In the library, I use the first part of lunch to Google Brian’s name. Nothing new comes up, even if I restrict the search timeline down to the past month. Where is he? Did he find a job? Does he think of me? Does he hate me for the part I played in him losing his job? The part I played in the rumors? I think if I had one sign that Brian’s doing okay, the guilt might dissipate a bit. But for now it’s raging in my blood.

  I look at the picture of him from when he played ball for Georgia Tech. Smile at his smile. Wherever he is, I hope he’s happy.

  I exit out of Google.

  I go sit in the magazine room and start eating ham and Swiss on whole wheat, openly reading this awesome regency romance about gay dukes who have a thing for each other. I should loan it to Drew and Tate.

  The idea brings a smile to my face. That’s when Allie slowly approaches me, tangling her fingers together.

  “What are you reading?” she asks.

  I flash the paperback’s front at her. I don’t care who the hell sees. I love romance novels. She raises her eyebrows at the two shirtless buff men.

  “Can I join you?” she says, gesturing at the chair across from me.

  Months ago, I would’ve killed for her to ask that. But now? Eh. I care more about the two dukes than her. I do want friends. But I want friends who didn’t abandon me when I needed them most.

  “I’d rather read alone,” I tell her. “Rain check?”

  She chews on her lip. “Definitely. Yeah. See you. ” She trudges off, peeking over her shoulder at me, and I go back to my sandwich and book and drown myself in nineteenth-century London.

  Best lunch date I’ve ever had.

  Dad wakes me up on Sunday morning by pounding on my door.

  “Come in,” I blurt, burying my face in the pillow.

  “It’s church time. ”

  I shake my head. “I’m not going. ”

  “Okay, suit yourself. ” He kisses my forehead, then pauses. “I sent Veena an email asking if she’ll come back to church. ”

  I smile into the pillow, where Dad can’t see. “I think that’s a great idea. Wish I’d thought of it. ”