Page 25 of Never the Best

“Throw it in!” I yelled, gesturing wildly toward the infield, but the roar of the crowd drowned out my voice.

By the time the ball reached the shortstop, Pearl was already diving into third, a cloud of dust rising around her as she hit the base. I worried she'd hurt herself, but she stood up quickly, her grin wide and triumphant as she glanced toward home plate.

“Go for it, Pearl!” one of her teammates yelled, and the crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheering.

I jogged toward home, bracing myself as the catcher took position behind me. The outfielder was throwing the ball back in now, but Pearl had already taken off, sprinting down the baseline with a determination that made my chest tighten.

“Tag her, Rhett!” someone on my team shouted, but I was frozen, caught somewhere between watching the ball and watching Pearl.

The ball came flying toward me, but Pearl’s sneakers hit the plate a fraction of a second before the ball landed in my glove. She skidded to a stop, laughing and breathless, her hands on her knees as her team exploded into cheers behind her.

“Safe!” the umpire called, and the crowd roared.

Pearl’s teammates rushed the field, surrounding her with high-fives and shouts of celebration.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Luna yelled, pulling Pearl into a playful hug.

I couldn’t stop smiling as I jogged back toward the mound, shaking my head. My team groaned good-naturedly, a few of them muttering about needing new outfielders.

Pearl glanced over at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with the kind of joy that was impossible to fake.

Luna was right about me, I thought, as an epiphany struck me.

Back then, as a teenager, I’d buried how I felt about Pearl beneath layers of cowardice and cruelty, convincing myself that fitting in with my so-called friends mattered more than the truth. They had mocked her, betrayed her, humiliated her—and I’d let their voices drown my feelings, too scared to stand up and admit what was in my heart. It had been easier to join them than to risk being cast out.

Now, standing on this makeshift softball field with the sound of laughter and cheers echoing around me, I knew that I hadn’t changed as much as I wanted to believe. I was still a coward, still hiding behind the mask of the man everyone expected me to be. I was engaged to a woman I didn’t like, playing the role of someone who had it all together, all the while, the one person I truly wanted—hadalwayswanted—stood just twenty feet away, celebrating a victory with a grin so bright it made her eyes sparkle like stars.

As I watched Pearl, laughing and radiant, something inside me unfurled, something I could no longer ignore. I’d spent years running from the truth, and the truth was Pearl. It hadalwaysbeen Pearl.

CHAPTER 10

Pearl

Six months! That's how long it had been since I returned to Savannah. I'd never thought I'd have the courage to come back. I never thought I'd want to. For me, it was a reminder of trauma—but now, as the days passed, that had changed. I was adapting to my new reality. Savannah wasn’t just a ghost town of memories anymore. I could now exist without constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the past to ambush me.

But old insecurities clung to me like Spanish moss. Even now, sometimes, I'd find myself looking at a dress in a shop window, and I was, once again, the fat girl who hated to buy clothes because nothing looked good on me—and when I did find the one thing I could stand to wear, I was made fun of.

As a teenager, I’d stopped socializing, afraid of being ridiculed. It was no wonder I preferred reading a book rather than going to a party.

Now, as I stood under the shade of a tree in Aunt Hattie's garden in a dark blue sundress, my hands were itching to smooth my dress over my hips, my belly, to feel that I had less flesh, there waslessof me, less of teenage Pearl.

I felt so out of place, but when the party was taking place at my doorstep, I couldn’t hide.

Aunt Hattie’s estate was old Savannah grandeur at its finest. It was a sprawling plantation-style home with a wide, white-columned porch that wrapped around the house. The well-maintained lawns stretched for acres, dotted with vibrant gardens and a shimmering pond in the distance. That same pond greeted me every morning, its glassy surface visible from the porch and windows of the cottage where I lived.

When I first considered moving to Savannah, I assumed that staying in a cottage in the Odom Estate would be temporary. However, I liked it a lot, and so did Aunt Hattie, so we decided to make it semi-permanent.

We ate dinner several days a week together atherplace, and her housekeeper, Missy, also took care of my cottage. It was like Ifinallyhad a family member who loved me unconditionally for who I was, not who Icouldbe if I lost weight, became more outgoing, or?—

"Some party," Diego Perez broke my reverie.

He worked with Anson Larue, a real estate developer who worked with Savannah Lace and shared office space with us.

Diego, like me, had been born and raised in Savannah and, like me, had left. He'd moved back when his friendAnson offered him a job. Now, he commuted between Sentinel, where Larue Constructions’ headquarters were, and Savannah, where he lived. We'd become friendly as our offices were close to one another.

"Aunt Hattie knows how to throw a party," I agreed.

Harriet Odom never did anything halfway, which is why red, white, and blue bunting draped the verandah rails, enormous floral arrangements spilling over with roses and hydrangeas sat on nearly every surface, and strings of fairy lights zigzagged between the oaks, ready to come alive as soon as the sun set. On the porch, a live jazz band played a slow, sultry tune, their brass notes mingling with the chatter and laughter of the gathered crowd.

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