Page 123 of Off Pitch

“Man, you gotta figure your shit out,” Cole says. “You’re in fucking deep, and you don’t even realize it, do you?”

“Oh, I realize it,” I admit. “Why do you think I’ve been such a mess the past few days?”

“I get that,” he says with a sigh.

“You actually do, don’t you?”

“Don’t be coy, Knox. I already know you figured it out.”

“In my defense, I think everyone but Rory has figured it out.”

Cole groans. “I fucking know.”

“It’s not like you could do anything about it anyway,” I tell him. “She’s Skip’s daughter. He’d probably bench you just for looking at her.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Probably for the best that she hasn’t figured it out then.”

“Keep ogling her, and I’m sure she will figure it out,” I smirk.

“Fuck off,” Cole replies, tossing a throw pillow at me.

I toss the pillow back at him. “Don’t you have a game tonight, Pierce?”

“Yes, but my sister asked me to stay with you until she gets back with her things. You’re a fall risk, you know.”

I want to hate that Harlow had Cole come over to watch me like a child while she was gone. But I don’t hate it all.

Honestly, it’s really sweet that she’s so concerned she’s calling in reinforcements to keep me from being left alone.

In fact, I think I feel my heart fall a little bit further.

The past few days have driven me stir-crazy.

I’ve always been a homebody, but I want the option to easily get out. These goddamn crutches make getting around tricky as it is, so I’m sure as hell not trying to navigate Manhattan when I can’t fucking walk.

Harlow and I have been watching the Stars’ games, more so just in the background. She needs to see what’s going on forStarred and Fast. She’s doing a lot of writing while she’s here, but just like Cole said, she’s distracting me when the games are on.

We talk. We play mindless games on our phones. We even play “Guess the name of this celebrity.” She is evidently very into pop culture, so she already knows them all. Me? I think I get two correct.

But all of that is precisely what I need. I’m able to rest and elevate my leg, and Harlow makes sure I ice it periodically as well. The pain is starting to get a bit better now. It’s easy to forget that I can’t easily move from my spot on the couch or that I’m missing another game with my team when I have her beside me to take my mind off things.

We spent days barely speaking before I was injured. Monday was still somewhat awkward as we both adjusted to being around each other after everything that had happened. Now, we’re falling back into a more familiar rhythm.

Harlow is talking to me again. And it doesn’t feel forced now. It seems like once she got past the unease, she was able to enjoy being around me again.

That’s all I could ever ask for right now.

“Alright, Slick,” she says from the other end of the couch, turning my attention away from the game playing on the TV. “You’re on a desert island and can only have three things with you. What are you picking?”

“Why would I be on a desert island?” I ask incredulously.

“Maybe you were on a plane that went down, and the only safety you could find was an uninhabited island in the middle of the ocean.”

“Does the volleyball already come as my best friend, or do I need to include that as an item?”

Harlow laughs heartily. “We’ll say he’s already there, washed up with you from the plane’s wreckage.”

I can’t help but smile. This might be one of her most random attempts to take my mind off the game, but I’m enjoying the spontaneity. “What would I take?” I ask myself aloud. “Baseball cap. I definitely want a baseball cap.”

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