Page 40 of Trip Through Your Wires

“I think you know what I mean.”

Cruz places a hand on O’Brien’s chest and points with his other. “You’re out of line.”

“Am I?”

Marcus clears his throat and glances to the left. When Cruz and I do the same and see Coach approaching, he steps back from O’Brien.

“Everything alright?” Coach growls in his trademark gruff voice.

“Yeah, Coach.” O’Brien flips his hat around. “The guys and I were just talking.”

“Well how about less talking and more practice, huh?” He claps his hands and looks at me, Cruz, and Marcus. “Are you three done with your rotation?”

“Yup,” I pat Cruz’s back. “Marcus, you?”

“All done,” he confirms with a nod.

“Good,” Coach lifts his chin toward the exit. “You three get home. O’Brien, finish your circuit with the others and do the same. Storm is getting closer and the winds are picking up. Dean is about to cancel classes for the rest of the day, so I want all of you to get home as soon as you can. No funny business today. I mean it. You get your asses inside and keep them there.”

“You got it.” Marcus claps O’Brien on the back. “Right man?”

“Sure,” he bites back, giving each of us a once over, then turns and walks away.

Coach moves on, giving the same order to the rest of the team, as Marcus, Cruz, and I sling our bags over our shoulders and head toward the exit.

Jordy, our first baseman, jogs over and falls into step with Marcus, the two talking animatedly, as Cruz leans over and whispers to me.“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” I look over my shoulder. “But I don’t like it.”

“Me either brother,” he agrees. “Me either.”

Chapter 8

Jenica

It’s one of those days where there’s too much to do and not enough time. As soon as I wrap my shift at the store, I have to head back to Davenport and get to work on a paper that’s due tomorrow. The only saving grace is that Travis is also working this morning, helping my parents out with inventory.

“Runaway!” I call out, stopping a rolling can of soup with my toe as I make my way down the aisle with a new roll of receipt paper for the register.

“Nice stop,” he beams, scooping it up, twirling it in his hand, then placing it back on the shelf.

“Should’ve been a goalie, huh?” I continue down the aisle and he shakes his head and turns his attention back to the shelves.

When I reach the register, I set the roll down and lift the lid. Removing the old one, I wipe away the debris from the gears, then slip on the new roll.

“Ow, shit!” I yelp when I catch my finger as I lower the lid.

Julie, our newest clerk, rushes over. “You okay?”

I bring my finger to my mouth and murmur to her I’m fine, while making a beeline back down the aisle.

“Everything okay?” Travis asks as I hurry by. I mumble and fly into the office, heading straight to the shelf on the back wall where we keep the First Aid kit.

I set the kit on the desk, then assess the damage. Nail is broken and my finger is bleeding, which fits in perfectly with my ink-stained fingers and chipped manicure.

“What happened?” he asks, coming in through the office door.

I hold up my middle finger to show him the bleeding. “Well fuck you, too,” he smirks.

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