Page 43 of Pitcher

“Hmm…,” he muses. “I’m not sure I have that one… Unless you want to dip into my private stash?”

I half laugh. One, the stupid videos those girls filmed on his phone have long been deleted. He would know if he ever watched them. And two, Theo doesn’t bang the batgirls. He likes the ones who know nothing about the sport other than they run and throw a baseball.

Please… a batgirl.

“I think dipping into your private stash would end up with us praying for your soul tonight.”

All a lie.

He may frequent bedrooms, but he’s a giving lover, or so I’ve heard. He’s also very upfront with what he’s looking for. Basically, a wet hole. He doesn’t care which.

“You may be right,” he adds quietly, the air in the room changing into something more serious.

I glance over to see what his deal is. His eyes are focused intently on the blue screen while his hand clenches the remote.

“Are you okay?”

I lay my hand over his and he flinches.

Okay. Don’t touch him.

Sighing, he turns off the TV and scoots down into the blankets. “Would you mind if we just went to bed? I’m more tired than I thought.”

What happened?

Were we not just playing around?

Swallowing thickly, I nod and offer him a sad smile. “Sure. I’ll just put in my headphones and listen to music.”

With a curt nod, he rolls over and turns off the light on his side, never turning back to face me.

Okay then.

Finding Theo’s headphones on the bedside table, I plug them into my phone and turn out the light, plunging us into darkness.

Sleep normally comes easily to me but not tonight. Tonight, my mind races and I worry if I said something wrong. Is Theo mad at me? Does his shoulder hurt?

I’m confused and probably more emotional than I should be about him shutting down and not snuggling with me like he usually does.

I’m scrolling through my phone while Dermot Kennedy’s soulful voice fills my ears when I come across a video that plays over the music.

“You’re ridiculous,” says the girl in the beautiful ball gown, twirling barefoot in the grass.

It’s a video of me and Theo on prom night. No one had asked me to prom, and I almost didn’t go when Theo said we could go together.

“It’s not ridiculous. Come dance with me. It’s the last time it’s acceptable for you to step on my feet and get away with it.”

In the video, I stop twirling, my hair already falling down out of the intricate updo that took Grace an hour to do.

Theo zooms in on my face, recording the want in my eyes. I remember I wanted to dance with him more than anything. But after he was pulled away by girl after girl, I gave up, wandering out to the baseball field where I didn’t have to hear the swoons and breathy promises of a great after-party at hotel rooms they had secured.

I wasn’t that mad.

I was used to Theo being center of attention.

I was used to being his sidekick.

I was used to coming second in his life.

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