Page 22 of Stealing Home

The three of us go to grab food while Taylor stays behind, still too sick to think about eating. When we make it back to the table with trays full of food, some of the other guys and a few of the girls have pushed up a table to join us.

“We can never get a fucking break,” I mumble.

Max grabs my shoulder and squeezes. “I’m not thrilled they’re here either, but they’re our teammates, and we need to try and get along with them. Besides, it’s only Joaquin, Kent, and Quinn. At least it’s not Marco and Campbell.”

Taking a deep breath, I push away my irritation. I need to let last night go, at least the part with the guys. “Katrina doesn’t step foot in our house again,” I insist.

“Of course. What she did was sexual assault. You could file charges if you wanted to,” he says.

“I’d get laughed out of the police station, and you know it. It’s enough to just keep her the fuck away from me.”

“Hey Scott,” one of the girls, Courtney I think, greets me.

I nod in her direction, still not quite in the mood to socialize with them. She doesn’t seem bothered by my silence. “It’s too bad your game is so early on Saturday. We’d love to come and support you guys.”

“Will you miss us while you’re gone?” another one of the girls, Angie, asks.

“I will, baby,” Quinn coos. She bats her eyelashes at him, and they spend the rest of lunch focused on each other.

“You never hang out with us anymore, Scott,” Courtney complains.

Leaning forward onto my elbows, I focus on her. “Tell me one thing you know about me. One reason you want to hang out,” I demand.

She starts to twirl a lock of her hair. “Like you don’t know you’re hot.”

“The team is filled with good looking guys. Why me specifically?” I press.

She rolls her eyes. “None of them are going to go pro next year.”

“Is it the money or the fame that you find most attractive?” Max asks her.

“You make it sound shallow,” she sulks.

“How else should we see it?” I ask.

“Look, image is everything. You want to sell yourself to a pro team, you need to be the whole package. You think they’re going to pay attention to you with some nobody on your arm? I know you call us jersey chasers, but we know our value. The jocks are the hottest guys at this school, and we’re the hottest chicks. Yes, being on your arm will get us attention. I’m studying marketing and plan to be an influencer. Dating you will help me get more followers. In turn, I can use my platform to sell you to scouts,” she states.

“What about love?” I ask.

Courtney scoffs. “You’ve tried that once. How did that work out for you?”

I lean back and cross my arms. “And you think I want a career in baseball so bad I’d accept shallow relationships and let women use me for clout?”

She drops the flirty act. “Everyone uses someone for something, you’re naive if you think otherwise.”

My appetite disappears, and I pick up my tray to leave. Before I go, I make my position clear. “That may be true, but you won’t be using me to climb to the top.”

* * *

My mood isdark for the rest of the afternoon and it gets worse at practice. Few of the guys have recovered from their hangovers, and the team might actually be slower than they were in the morning.

Coach Rivera is losing his shit watching guys miss pop fly balls, line drives straight to base, and Joaquin is even hit with a ball rather than catch it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you all forget how to play baseball overnight? You’re a bunch of losers throwing away the season before it even fucking starts,” Rivera screams.

Continuing practice is pointless. We all know it. Sure, they need to learn a huge lesson, but they’re not getting any better at the game today.

“Start running laps,” Rivera shouts, then blows his whistle for us to start running around the field. He runs alongside continuing to yell at anyone who falls behind.

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