Page 122 of The Future Play

18

EVERY BROKEN FEELING

Jamie

I’m goingto fix my shit.

That’s my meditation. I have no idea if that’s how meditation is supposed to work, but I’m trying to chill myself out before my game.

Amanda’s not here today, and that sucks, but after I fucked up and missed most of the biggest event she’s ever been responsible for, I have zero room to ask her for anything.

I’m still kicking my own ass about that, but I’m trying to let it go. All I can do is be better from here on out, so like with my game, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.

There’s a knock on my hotel door, and I grunt as I push myself off the hotel room floor and go to answer it. Probably one of the guys trying to convince me to go get lunch with them. I appreciate the effort to draw out my introverted self, but I like the peace of some downtime before a game.

When I swing the door open, though, it’s not one of the guys. At least not one of the guys I’m expecting.

“Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” Aaron asks.

I laugh, trying to cover the emotion that bubbles inside me. “Hell yes. Get in here.”

I step aside so he can come in, and the minute the door closes behind us, he gives me a big hug.

Fuck, I don’t like the emotion that swells in me when he does that.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, getting control of myself.

“Philly isn’t that bad of a drive, and I had a few days free. I thought I’d come down and see the game. Marc told me what room you were in so I could surprise you.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

His brows pull in. “Are you okay?”

I shove my hand through my hair. “It’s been a rough few games for me.”

“I noticed you had some losses, but I didn’t think you pitched poorly. I’m sorry. I should’ve checked in with you more. Why didn’t you reach out?”

I shrug even though I know the answer. It’s not something I’m great at doing, and the more isolated I feel, the more used to it I become and that makes it harder.

He pins me with a look. “What’s going on?”

I walk over and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“It’s been harder settling in than I thought it would be. I mean, I knew there would be changes, but I stupidly thought I’d pick up where I left off in AAA. Maybe not pitching no-hitters or complete games, but I wouldn’t be sucking. I’m in a funk, but I don’t know why, and instead of throwing balls, all I’m doing is dropping them. I let Amanda down last week because I was too focused on baseball. It’s all fucked up.”

He sits down next to me. “You’re being too hard on yourself. But I get it. When you’re passionate about something, you don’t want to fuck it up. Do you remember…” He laughs to himself. “Well, I’m sure you remember when I’m talking about because it was when you met Amanda.”

“The Christmas party?”

“Mhm. Well, specifically, I’m thinking of the day after.”

I cringe at that. The day I went and yelled at him for not having his shit together—for not fighting for himself. I deserve to eat a slice of humble pie over that right now. I was almost eighteen and thought I knew every fucking thing.

“I remember.”

“You were trying to get to me, and you said something like ‘it doesn’t matter anyway because you were never going to play pro.’”

“If you’re going to tell me I was a jackass, I deserve it.”

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