Page 33 of The Romance Rivalry

“Okay, Irene. Just keep your eyes on the ball all the way until it hits your foot and then kick it as hard as you can. You’ve got this,” Allison coaches me.

I already whiffed twice in our first game. Including once when we had people on all the bases and all I had to do, according to everyone, was get the ball in play. I did not, however, get the ball in play. I swung my leg and missed it... many times.

This has not relieved any of my stress, by the way. Just gotta put it out there.

“She’s a sleeper, everyone. I wouldn’t put it past her to kick it out of the infield,” a voice says from in front of me. It’s Aiden, standing at the pitcher’s hill (mound? heap of dirt?) and smiling like I’m the funniest thing he’s ever seen. If I could just kick the ball right where his face is, I’d consider this day a win. Please, kickball gods, be with me.

I stand and wait as he pulls his arm back and then throws the ball toward me. If he were any kind of gentleman, he’d take it easy on me and not throw it so hard. But nope. Not Aiden Jeon. Figures.

I keep my eye on the ball as I’ve been told to, but as it comes rolling down toward me, and as if karma is on its (and Aiden’s) side, it hits a small patch of weedy grass, catapulting it into the air and changing its angle... so it’s coming right for my face. I tell myself to put my hands up. But I’m such a bad listener. And I watch as the red rubber ball arcs through the air and, on the downward trajectory, hits me square on the zit on the tip of my nose.

“Oh, shit,” I hear Aiden say at the exact same time as I scream, “Ow, motherfucker, that hurt,” and grab my face with both my hands.

I fall to my butt and sit there on the dirt, too afraid to pull my hands back to see if there’s any blood.

Aiden is there immediately, and he gently takes my face into both his hands. I try to pull away. “Irene, stop,” he says quietly. “Let me take a look.”

I open my eyes, not realizing I had them squeezed shut the entire time.

“I’m gonna pull your hands back so I can see, okay?” he asks. His voice is gentle, and he moves slowly.

People are standing circled around me, all looking down at me with concern. Jeannette is here now, and she drops downnext to me and puts an arm around my shoulders. Charles shows up, too, and kneels at my side, rubbing my back. I have all these people here who care about me, who are worried if I’m okay or not. A lump forms in my throat and my eyes fill.

“Oh, shit, she’s gonna cry,” Charles says.

“Everyone get out of the way and let me take a look,” another voice enters the mayhem. A young Asian guy who looks oddly familiar, though I just got pounded in the face right on my zit by a kickball, so I could just be hallucinating, pushes his way through and kneels in front of me next to Aiden. He reaches forward, grabs one of my hands, and pushes it away from my face.

“I’m pre-med,” he says, like it’s an explanation for crowding my space.

“You’ve been in classes for all of six weeks, Taejin,” Aiden says. “And stop being so rough. Get out of the way. You’re freaking Irene out.”

They both turn to look at me, and I look at Aiden and then at Taejin. Taejin. The name is familiar. And I’m not wrong—so is the face. I know him from somewhere...

“Irene? Irene Park?”

Taejin Im. We were friends in middle school. We went to the same church.

“I didn’t know you went to Brighton,” I say, my nose sounding worrisomely stuffed.

“Yeah, I’m pre-med,” he says.

“You said that already,” Aiden says.

“Taejin and I went to church together when we were kids. The two of us played the three wise men in the Christmas play,” I tell him.

Aiden’s eyes crinkle at the sides as he tries to suppress his smile. “I know there’s an explanation for that, right?”

I nod. But my face is sore, and I don’t really want to exert the energy to tell it.

“Tell me about it later, okay?” Aiden takes pity on me. God, why is his voice so sexy when he’s making fun of me?

Taejin pulls a stethoscope from the back pocket of his shorts and wraps it around his neck, letting it hang there.

“Why the fuck did you bring that to the kickball game?” Aiden asks.

“I have to always be prepared,” Taejin explains. His voice is comically serious, and I would laugh if I wasn’t certain it would hurt too much. Aiden rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed, and that makes me want to laugh even more.

“It looks like it could be broken,” Taejin says, nodding his head assuredly.

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