Page 21 of The Perfect Game

“Sixteen, Dad. I’m sixteen.” I couldn’t help but say it with a bit of a smile.

He smiled, and I realized he’d done it to make sure I was paying attention. “That’s right, sixteen-year-old. We’re going to make some mistakes. Just give us some time, maybe a little forgiveness, and we’ll get through this together, all right?” He stretched his fist out in front of him, tilting his head to the side as he waited for me to reciprocate.

Half-heartedly, I reached over and softly punched my knuckles into his. “Fine, but you better not forget me next time.”

My pro-football-player dad grinned, not the scary expression he used for the field, but the look of a guy who knew how to smooth things over.

Once he left the room, my thoughts turned to my friends and their families. Penny’s dad came to as many games as he could, depending on his work schedule, and with all she’d gone through with her mom leaving, Penny understood. Brynn’s parents seemed fairly supportive, and Kate’s—well, when your mom was the PTA president, it wasn’t hard to see where her priorities were.

Ben’s face came to mind as I thought about him running out the door. At least his mom and brother showed up to games, even if his dad didn’t. But I had a feeling there was something more going on there, and the connection I’d felt a couple of times when I was around him only grew stronger.

I was so sick of feeling like the second-place loser when it came to my own family. As much as I wanted to hope that the little talk I’d had with my dad would help change things, that would just be worse than accepting the fact that until I was able to move out on my own, I was more of a decoration than a daughter to support.

I cried long into the night, wishing something would change enough to make my life less heartbreaking.

Twelve

Serena

“Wanna come with us to the baseball game?” Penny asked through video chat Friday morning. Of course, she couldn’t just text me like every other person on the planet, but I was grateful for that. It had been a week or two since I’d hung out with my friends, the downside to being the only one without a job and unable to drive anywhere at the moment.

“Who all is going?” I asked, drinking the last of the milk in my cereal bowl.

“Me, Kate, Brynn. I can pick you up from your physical therapy appointment.” Penny’s voice held something more in it, like she expected some huge confession to spill out of me.

I stood, hopping on one foot to take my bowl to the kitchen. It was hard to maneuver with the crutches around the island, so I channeled my best inner bunny and made it to the sink. Once I made it back to the table, I lifted the crutches and placed them a foot or two in front of me. I grabbed my phone and leaned into the crutches as I swung my lower body with them, grateful my armpits weren’t as sore as they’d been the past few days. And having crutches the right size, as opposed to using my dad’s, made all the difference in me wanting to move around. Maybe I’d get used to these things right when I didn’t have to use them anymore.

“Yeah, I’m game. Just pick me up at three, if that’s all right.” I made it into the family room where I plopped down on the couch and dropped the crutches on the floor.

Penny nodded. “Of course. I’ll be over that way to help my dad with a job before, so it works out.”

“Why is everyone going to the game? I know you’re there for Jake, but what about the other two?”

“Kate said she wanted to support as many teams as possible since she’s the new student body president for next year.” We both rolled our eyes at that. I loved Kate, but she took things to a whole new level. “Brynn said she’s got nothing else to do since the family she nannies for is going to a family reunion this weekend.”

“How are things going for your comp team, Pen? Have you talked to any of the college coaches yet?” I shifted up on the couch, easing the numbness that had started in my lower back from not moving for so long.

Penny shrugged. “A few. None that are on my list, but there’s still time. At least, I hope.”

“It’s easier when you’re playing on a competitive team instead of relying on girls who only picked up a ball at the beginning of the season. We’re only a couple weeks into the summer. You’ll be fine.”

I’d been to a couple of the high school softball games, and there were a few girls who, when the ball came their way, made me cringe, hoping they’d at least keep the ball in front of them. The benefit to high school volleyball was that most of the girls who played were also on my comp team, so we worked together seamlessly. Except when I stepped on their leg.

With a giant grin, Penny said, “Look who’s all positive right now. Have you been brainwashed or something?” She chuckled, and I closed my eyes and shook my head.

“Oh, come on. Can’t a girl be supportive of a friend and fellow athlete?” I laughed at the look on her face, which reminded me of the afternoon I went to talk to the art teacher instead of going to lunch.

“You’re usually a little less peppy. Any particular reason for the change?” Her words brought up a mental picture of Ben, and I tried to shrug it off.

“Nope. I’ve got to run—okay, not literally, but I need a nap before I have to go to therapy. I’ll see you in a bit.”

* * *

Penny pickedme up as promised, and we met the other girls in the parking lot of the local baseball complex. John had finally said I could go without the crutches, but he’d wrapped my ankle tighter than normal and gave me a large boot, probably to compensate for it.

I hobbled with the girls down the walkway between two fields, both occupied with teams and coaches and parents. With the awkwardness of walking on the boot, I wondered if it would actually be easier with the crutches.

A few clouds broke up some of the heat from the sun, and we settled onto the metal bleachers behind the plate. The announcer read off the starting lineup, and my eyes kept straying to number eighteen on the sidelines.

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