Page 101 of The Trouble with Players

He smiled, and I could see he was proud of me. “I hope it comes true.”

“Me too,” I agreed.

“Can I ask you something?” Crew asked.

“Sure.”

“If this doesn’t end the way we want it to, can you promise you won’t shut me out. I want you in my life, no matter what.”

He was asking for something I wasn’t sure I could do. How would I ever be able to see him with another girl? How could I pretend to be happy for him? How could I just stop having feelings for him? I didn’t know how to respond because our love story was hashtag tragic. But at least for the time being, we had hope. “I can try.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

I awoke the next day, immediately grabbing my phone to check my email. But like I already knew, the results weren’t in yet. I tossed my phone down and climbed out of bed. I moved to my dresser, pulling open the top drawer.

I reached inside and pulled out a baseball, twisting it in my hand and reading the message: Go Out With Me. I closed my eyes and thought back to the moment Crew sent the little leaguer over to me. And, though I’d never admit it to him, it was adorable. No one had ever gone to such lengths to get my attention.

I reached back in the drawer and pulled out the other ball. I turned it in my palm and read the message: Don’t Move. I closed my eyes and thought back to our night on the baseball field. Him thinking I wouldn’t know how to play was hysterical. I’d grown up around baseball. How could he ever think he’d be able to teach me how to play the game?

I placed the balls back in the drawer—my own pieces of Crew—before I flopped back down on my bed. I grabbed my phone and opened a blank note and began to type:

Blissful, Beloved, Beautiful…

Baseball is.

Boastful, Bold, Brave…

Baseball players are.

Strong, Strategic, Showoffs…

Shortstops are.

Courageous, Captivating, Caring…

Crew is.

I opened my texts and typed: I think I owe you a poem. Then, I pasted the poem in and sent it to Crew.

I waited for what felt like forever. And then the bouncing dots appeared. I love it.

* * *

“I think you need to be optimistic,” Blythe said. “But know that things might not end the way you want them to.”

I nodded, playing with the mini magnetics in my hand. She was not telling me something I didn’t already know.

“Now, where are you at with your father?” she asked. “He met you at the café and he took the test. Did you appreciate that?”

I shrugged.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?” she asked.

“No.”

“Can I ask why not?”

“Because I’ll never be able to forget what he did.”

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