Page 146 of Honey Pot

“I kept this the entire time I was captain; it’s all the guys' information, numbers, weaknesses, and strengths. Use it. Memorize it. Add to it.” He stared at me with his hand on the top of it. “You’re more than capable of carrying this team, Tucker.”

He meant to be encouraging, but every bit of encouragement added weight to my already crumbling shoulders. There was so much expected of me now that I had the captain title attached to me. The binder wasextensive,though. It had clippings from articles tucked into each of the players' sections and notes from games over the last three years. Arlo had watched us all and made some sort of endearing yet…sick scrapbook of all our accomplishments.

I hadn’t found the courage to flip to my page yet, straying clear of the tab that saidFranklin, knowing that whatever was inside would just add pressure or chip away at whatever confidence I had left.

Arlo’s opinion of me, his real one, unseen and unspoken… I couldn’t deal with that. Not right now. There was too much on my mind.

How to be a great Captain was at the forefront, quickly followed by the overwhelming smell of Cael’s cologne and the scratchy fabric of the bus seats. The air felt like I was being suffocated, churning the contents of my stomach until they inched up my throat.

“I’m going to be sick.” I climbed over Cael and hurried to the bathroom as the Bus made another jerky turn. I lost my step and slammed into the tiny bathroom. My shoulders were too big for the space, and the rocking motions of the bus made it feel so muchsmaller.

“I can’t do this.” I stared into the warped plastic mirror at my twisted reflection that did nothing but amplify my anxiety. “Why the fuck did they think I could do this?” I swore and leaned on the counter with all my weight.

“I’m not a Captain. I’m barely a human being.” My shirt suddenly felt less like an extra large and more like a small. It constricted my throat and stuck to every muscle, drenched in sweat that I swore wasn’t there a moment ago. “The only guy you’ve ever loved can’t love you back. You can’t tell your parents that you’re gay, and now you have to pull the team together for the hardest season they’ll face in the last six years.”

I swallowed the vomit that rose.

“Why my season? Why Joshua Logan?” I bit down hard on my bottom lip and breathed through my nose to settle my stomach.

A knock came from the door, and I popped it open to find Silas staring at me.

“You alright, big boy?” He handed me a water bottle but didn’t let go of it even as I nodded half-heartedly. The bus lurched forward, and I lost my balance again. “Try again,” he said.

“I’m fine, just a little motion sick,” I said, straightening out. I tried to roll out my shoulders, but the bus bathroom was not made for a six-four, two hundred-and-fifty-pound first baseman, and my shoulders brushed against the walls uncomfortably.

“First time for everything, I guess,” He said, finally letting go of the bottle. He crossed his arms over his chest, and his head cocked to the side as he examined me with his stupid judgmental gray eyes.

“I’m fine, Doc.” I lied.

“You’re going to do fine,” he offered, ignoring my answer. “Logan is a speedbump. You know how to Captain these guys. You were born a leader. If anyone can bring them together, it’s you. Just…” Silas’s eyes trailed up the bus to where Josh sat with his headphones over his ears. “Give him a chance.”

I watched Silas’s demeanor soften, just for a moment. Deep somewhere beneath all that hardened older brother nonsense, there was a heart he was just trying to safeguard.

“Alright.” I nodded, taking another deep breath as the nausea settled slightly. “But making the team accept him is going to take a miracle.”

“Better start brainstorming, Tucker. You’ve got three hours until they hit camp, and then it’s martial law.”

Spring camp was arguably the best part of pre-season. It was two weeks of pure team bonding out in the middle of the woods. We slept in cabins, played games, trained, and came together before the start of the season. It was typically players and a few staff members. Nicholas declared last year that he’d rather chew off his own arm than come to spring camp, but the moment Arlo volunteered to be a chaperone, suddenly Nicholas was ready to go.

Silas always came. I think he liked it out there, in the middle of nowhere, with no responsibilities other than hanging out with the team. But that was when there was no animosity amongst the players, and everyone got along.

Josh threw a wrench in the plans. He was a live wire—he always had been. Loud and obnoxious, he was always looking for a fight and would do anything to get one. He got under my skin quickly and with such ease, which was part of the problem. I couldn’t stop the rage that bubbled up in his presence, and if I couldn’t control my feelings about him, how was I supposed to expect that of the guys?

It was going to be a long two weeks.

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