Page 7 of Pitcher

I jump from my seat, ignoring the scolding look from the assistant principal, and leap off the stage, rushing into the crowd of parents. I find Hines’s and Grace’s seats before my brother reaches me, panting from rushing off stage too.

We fist bump, standing in the chairs, blocking the view of the parents behind us. We don’t give a fuck though.

“Anniston McCallister. Congratulations, my dear,” the principal praises.

Thad lets out a whistle that deafens me, and I whoop and holler, catching my girl’s attention. Nothing will ever compare to the smile she flashes when she sees us standing in her family’s seat. The pride stretched across her face is unparalleled when she shakes the principal’s hand and holds her diploma up to me and Thad.

For the first time in a week, her eyes shine bright with happiness, and I know there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep it there.

Back to our seats on the stage, and a billion years later, graduation finally ends. Thad and I took our diplomas, waved to our parents, and then played on our phones through everyone’s speeches. Yes, even Anniston’s.

I’d heard it every day for the past two months. I could have given it for her. She wasn’t mad. At one point, she even smiled at me before we threw our caps in the air. I could have blown off all of it, but it was important to Anniston. She worked hard through school, whereas I worked hard at baseball.

I understand the feeling of victory.

Today is Anniston’s bittersweet victory.

She’s done what she set out to do. Except, the people she did it for aren’t here to witness her success. As her frown wavered from one handshake to another, all I could think about is how much we all need to get shitfaced tonight.

“Who wants to get blackout drunk?” I ask, pulling Anniston through the crowd toward my car.

“Me,” announces Thad.

“Ans?” I prompt. She nods but then says, “Let’s play a game too.”

Motherfucker.

Thad and I both groan.

Anniston loves her games. Not that I don’t enjoy a healthy dose of competition, but Anniston’s games typically leave me rock hard.

“Nothing stupid,” I compromise.

She crosses her heart with her free hand. “I promise, nothing stupid.”

After the ceremony, we blew off invites to multiple graduation parties. Anniston had her heart set on a game, and well, I would have blown the principal if it would have made her happy.

“Truth or Dare?”

Hence the reason Thad and I are playing this bullshit—andvery stupid—game on her living room floor.

“Don’t you want to play something else?” Thad whines, taking a swig of the beer that Fred from the dilapidated gas station down the road slipped us.

“Come on! It’s our last night as high schoolers. Live a little,” she encourages.

We are living a little. Our livers are turning to mud as we speak. Anniston’s grandfather left the liquor cabinet stocked… waste not, want not and all that.

Thad grumbles but ultimately goes with “Truth.”

Bad move, Brother.

Anniston nearly squeaks with excitement.

“Is it true that Ashley Pollock had an asthma attack in the middle of giving you a blow job?”

I almost spit out my beer.

“I remember that shit!” I add to Thad’s torment.

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