Page 11 of Strike Zone

“Starting pitcher Wyatt Rivers?” Charlie twists her body away from her show, staring at me in shock.

Starting pitcher? No idea. He’s the guy who thinks I can’t get a man to sleep with me. Moonlighting as a clown? Really?

“He’s on the baseball team. That’s all I know.”

“I didn’t know the two of you were friends. How did he get your number?”

“We aren’t. He requested it,” I grumble. I was the idiot who gave it to him.

“When have you been hanging out with him?”

“You are asking a lot of questions.” She is going to force me to admit the whole matchmaking scheme before it even begins. “I was his tutor.” For five minutes. It still counts.

“And you just gave him your number? Why didn’t you tell me about this? Do you like him?” She is like a little puppy dog about to be taken on a walk. Her enthusiasm is nauseating.

“Yes. It didn’t seem important. Absolutely not.” Part of my lunch threatens to crawl its way up my throat. I shudder at the thought of having an interest in Wyatt, romantic or otherwise.

She studies my face looking for a lie she won’t find.

“Hmm…then why did he want your number?”

I can’t exactly tell her Wyatt is interested in her, not me, as she assumes, and now I’m stuck playing cupid. “In case of a tutoring emergency?” That sounds somewhat believable. “He did invite us to hang out with him at The Armory tonight.”

“Interesting.” She has a calculating look in her eye. She may act the part at times, but she isn’t a fool—she is sharp and will out maneuver you. No doubt Charlie is scheming up a plan of her own as we speak.

“We don’t have to go. I’ll text him back that we have plans.” I would do that with pleasure.

“Oh no, no. Wrennie, we’re going. You never want to go out. Had I known I only needed to offer up a good looking specimen of a man on a silver platter, I would have tried this tactic years ago.” She giggles to herself.

I spin around, my whole body facing the living room. “He is not why I’m considering going out tonight.” It’s the fact that he thinks I lack the ability to have any fun. Why that bothers me I’ve yet to figure out. I shouldn’t care what anyone thinks of me, least of all him.

“If you say so,” she singsongs. “Text him back. Tell him we’ll meet him there. Maybe he’ll bring a cute friend with him.”

“Why would he need a friend?” I ask, then take a sip from my water bottle.

“For me, silly. You are going to be busy flirting with Wyatt. I’ll need someone to flirt with too,” she says, as if the answer is obvious.

I choke on my water. “I will not be flirting with him,” I say, rubbing my chest. “Why don’t you flirt with Wyatt if you think he is worthy of flirting with?”

She rolls her eyes. “Because I’m not interested in him. He’s hot but he doesn’t want a relationship. I’m looking for something more serious.”

My eyes narrow. “And that makes him the right person for me?”

“Yes, because you don’t do serious relationships either. You never have. I’ve always assumed it’s because of your engagement but I’m beginning to wonder if there is another reason.”

Technically, I won’t be engaged until sometime after graduation. I haven’t spoken to my parents about it since I left for school in August. For all I know the situation has changed. I refuse to bring it up unless they say something about it.

My mom mentioned keeping in contact with Daniel, my intended fiancé, but I have no desire to reach out to him. Even calling him that in my head sounds wrong. She’s under the impression that we chat all the time. When in reality, I’ve only spoken to him twice.

Once when I was sixteen and a second time at our high school graduation party.

It was my mom who mentioned how wonderful it would be if Daniel and I got married. To this day I still don’t understand what she saw happening between us when we were drinking punch and eating cake side by side. Nothing about that screams happily ever after to me. It was awkward and uncomfortable. I couldn't get away from him and that party fast enough.

My mom however jumped at the chance to lock down a husband for me. Our dads saw this marriage as an opportunity to link their firms together and form a partnership. Over whiskeys they devised a plan that would keep both of their businesses successful and well connected.

I should protest, but I don’t see a reason to. Who else am I going to marry? I’m not exactly putting myself out there. I haven't met very many men who have been able to handle my abrasive personality or my need for control and order.

“The only reason I don’t do serious relationships is because I don’t want to.”

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