Page 73 of Easy Out

LAUREN

Sydney is practically skipping through the stadium as she leads me past the concessions and toward our seats by the field. Hart said we could sit wherever we want as long as we are in the front row near the home team dugout.

I’m glad Syd seems to know where to go. If it wasn’t for her, I would be lost somewhere in one of the tunnels. This is the first time I’ve ever been in a complex this big.

Competitive sports were a luxury growing up. Uniforms and equipment cost money we didn’t have. Even when my mom was alive, I went to dance class with thrifted shoes and leotards. Classes were paid by way of bartering and favors.

There are two empty seats in the front row as if they were saved for us. I’m surprised by the amount of people here just to watch a practice. There are a couple of men in polo shirts holding clipboards in seats behind home plate. They seem important. Hart had mentioned scouts have started sniffing around practices and scrimmages.

I wonder if he’s nervous. I want the teams to be interested in drafting him. Even if it means he’ll be leaving Alabama. The thought alone threatens to pierce a hole in my heart.

I’m getting attached. It's obvious that whatever started as a ‘get to know you’ assignment is now something much more. It was never about the assignment with us.

When I’m with him it feels right.

The first time I met Hart was move-in day Freshman year. He was a silent, storm cloud moving Sydney into our dorm room. He gave me a cursory glance when I said hello and went back to whatever he was doing.

I’ve been dismissed all my life. I didn’t think twice about it. I was trying to be nice because he was friends with Sydney, and I wanted to make a good impression. That was the last time I ever spoke to Hart.

Three years later, all it takes is to stand next to him for a few minutes and a car ride home for him to wiggle his way under my skin.

Self-preservation cautions me to hold back and not let him get any closer. Hart is leaving. Even if he gets drafted by Alabama, their minor league team is in Kentucky. Not exactly convenient for a new relationship.

Moving is out of the question for me. Not now. I can’t leave Carlos, Manny, and the rest of my family. Family. That’s what they are to me. It’s something I’ve always wanted. They need me. And I need them.

“I have been waiting for this all day. I couldn’t get out of my last lab fast enough.” Syd bounces in her seat waiting for the rest of the team to come out of the dugout.

“It will probably be boring.” She slices me with sharp eyes. “What? It’s not like we’re going to an amusement park or something fun.”

“Aren’t we, though? Look at all those rides, Lo!” She nods toward the field where several guys on the team are stretching out their quads and hamstrings. “It’s like fantasy land out there. That guy is like Splash Mountain. He comes with a will get wet warning.”

“Oh my god Sydney!” I start cackling and slap her playfully.

“That ride over there,” she points to another player on the field, “I bet he goes up and down.”

“Stahhhp. My stomach is starting to hurt,” I say, wiping tears from my eyes.

“You know what else is going to hurt?” I don’t even bother answering her. “It definitely wouldn’t be like Tommy from freshman year.” She shudders at the memory.

“That was like sticking a Ticonderoga up my vag. But Splash Mountain…” Syd reaches into her bag and pulls out binoculars. “Would make it hurt so good.”

I’m bent over laughing, wheezing. “Ticonderoga. That makes me sad for you.”

“I can see that.” She side-eyes me. “You look really torn up about it, Lo.” Syd sighs.

“Tears.” I point to my eyes.

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s not going to like you checking out his teammates,” I mention once I’ve gotten over my fit of laughter. Sydney lifts her shoulder, pretending not to care, and continues to watch the guys stretch out in foul territory.

“Yeah, well, we don’t always get what we want, do we?” There’s a hint of bitterness in her voice. I want to remind her that he is an idiot for keeping his distance.

Syd licks her lips and groans beside me. “Let me see.” I snatch the binoculars from her. “That can’t be real. It’s stuffed, right? Or a cup or something?”

“I don’t think so. I guess it’s possible he’s all balls.” I sputter a laugh.

“That would be a damn shame.”

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