Page 62 of Strike Zone

“That would be incredible. The summers are the hardest for the kids without school lunches. I know they would appreciate it,” Lauren says.

“Maybe you can do something the kids can get involved in. Something fun,” Sydney suggests.

“Like a fun run or a mud race?” Charlie asks.

“Why do they call it a fun run? There is absolutely nothing fun about running in this heat,” I say, finally joining the conversation.

“It’s fun because you’re outside enjoying the fresh air and raising money for a good cause,” Charlie explains.

“It’s deceptive advertising. There is nothing fun about being outside.” Then they want to add running too? No thank you.

“Then why are you spending your entire spring break on a farm? Huh?" Charlie teases.

“Back it up. I missed something. You’re spending spring break on a farm. Where?” Sydney asks.

“Wyatt’s family farm,” Charlie answers for me with a slick smile on her face.

“Our Wyatt?” Lauren asks. No, my Wyatt. “Hart mentioned something was going on between the three of you. A sordid love triangle. I thought he was joking.”

“There is no love triangle. Wyatt is my friend,” I say. It’s the truth. That’s all we are. Friends. Just because it didn’t work out with Charlie doesn’t mean he wants something with me.

I thought he was going to kiss me the other night. He got so close to me in my kitchen, but he had pulled back seconds before I was going to push forward.

We studied into the early morning and he ended up sleeping on my couch. If the situation was different—if he actually liked me like that—he would have forgotten all about studying.

The things he said to me make me want that. He makes me believe he could be that man who begs for more of me. When I close my eyes, I can still feel the forehead kiss he gave me.

“There’s no love triangle because Wyatt isn’t interested in me,” Charlie says.

“Because you turned him down,” I state.

“I turned him down because he didn’t want me.” I know for a fact that isn’t true. “My God, Wrennie. Read the room. The boy is obsessed with you.”

If by obsessed you mean, I’m going to hound you until you help me get into your roommate's pants, then yes he is that. Actually obsessed with me? I don’t think so. We’re friends. That’s it. That’s all we can ever be.

“It makes sense now,” Sydney says, nodding her head.

“What does?” Lauren asks.

“Nash. A week or so ago when we were out at dinner. He said Wyatt told him not to get any ideas. That you were off limits. Nash said Wyatt didn’t want him flirting with you anymore. What do you have to say about that?”

I shrug, but I do wonder if this is what Wyatt whispered to Nash after we had our impromptu dance party. “I don’t know why he would say something like that. Sounds like the same warning Nash gave his friends about you. Maybe Wyatt sees me as his sister.” The thought makes me die a little inside.

“It’s not the same,” Syd claims.

“Did you see the way he went feral over her wearing Thomas’s jersey?” Charlie asks Sydney and Lauren.

“You told me to wear it because he would want me to wear school colors. And Wyatt said he hated the jersey by the way. You were wrong.” I point a finger at her.

“Who’s going to tell her?” Lauren asks. Sydney raises her hand and starts chanting pick me over and over. “Educate the woman.”

“He hated it because it wasn’t his name on your back. You were publicly claiming Thomas as your favorite player.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. I don’t even know who Thomas is, let alone if he’s a good enough baseball player to call him my favorite,” I explain.

“It might sound arbitrary, but Hart would lose his mind if I wore someone else’s jersey to one of his games or at all,” Lauren says, further cementing this bizarre jersey wearing rule.

“Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you and Wyatt?” Sydney asks.

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