Page 69 of Hale
“We both know you’ve played like shit,” he says bluntly but not cruelly.
“Yeah,” I agree. Especially this week at practice. It’s been four days since I left Rylie to come back to school and each day becomes more torturous than the last.
“I’m going to be frank here, Hale,” he says with a huff. “Paulson has been picking up the slack and a good fit for third base. He’s focused and doesn’t make stupid mistakes.”
I can’t even argue. I’ve missed balls I’d usually catch and can’t hit the ball to save my life. Worst part is, I don’t even care. It’s as though I’m going through the motions just to pass time.
“Are you kicking me off the team?” I ask, my voice tight.
He pushes an envelope across the desk. “Inside, there’s a letter of recommendation and a check from my wife. She appreciates all you’ve done for her firm, but she needs someone more reliable working there. Just like I need someone on the team I can count on.”
I blink at him in shock. “You’re kicking me off the team and firing me?”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “You’re not playing anymore this season. I’ve written you up and you’re on watch since your scholarship rides on you playing ball for me. I’m not kicking you off because I know you need this scholarship to go to school. But come the end of summer, you have to try out again. If you’re not back to being the Hudson I know, you’ll force my hand. I’m sorry. I’d hoped you’d take your finals next week and then go home for the summer. Maybe see someone professionally so you can work through your blinding grief. Then, come back in the fall so we can get your head back in the game. You’re one of this school’s best players and I hate to see you decline so quickly like this.”
I keep waiting for the horror to wash over me. Nothing comes. The fact I feel nothing, surprises me. “I’m sorry I disappointed you,” I say, my voice husky as I rise from my seat. “I’m going to find myself this summer.” It’s a long time coming. With Rylie, I’ve barely begun to scratch the surface.
He lets out a heavy breath. “Find it quickly. You can’t afford to screw up your future over a few hard months.”
I shake my head at him. “I don’t think I’ll suddenly get over the death of my parents and how it affects me by August. Just warning you.”
“You know what I mean,” he grumbles. “If you don’t get your head out of your ass, you’ll be gone. You need to understand that, Hale.”
“I get it, Coach.” With that, I slip out of his office and walk over to the bench where Nick is changing.
“What did Coach want?” he asks.
“He gave me an ultimatum.”
“What the fuck, man?”
“I’m done for the rest of the season.”
“What do you mean done?” he asks, his brows furling together.
“Like done. I won’t be practicing or playing. I can try out for the team before next semester starts.”
He gapes at me in horror. “No. That’s fucked up. Baseball is your life.”
No, it was my life.
Now, everything revolves around her.
I simply shrug. “Not anymore.”
As I walk out of the locker room, a weight lifts from my shoulders. I may not feel the same later, but at this point, I only feel relief. I quickly text Rylie the news.
Me: I’m off the team for the rest of the summer and I no longer have a job.
But at least I have you.
I don’t text her that part in case Aunt Becky is tracking our messages.
Rylie: Oh, Hudson. I’m sorry.
Her simple text is enough. It’s more than enough. I don’t care about all the things I once cared about.
All I care about is her.
