Page 3 of Honeysuckle
“You alright?” He handed me a water bottle but didn’t let go of it even as I nodded half-heartedly. The bus lurched forward, and I lost my balance again. “Try again, golden boy,” he said.
“I’m fine, just a little motion sick,” I said, straightening out. I tried to roll out my shoulders, but the bus bathroom was not made for a six-four, two hundred-and-fifty-pound first baseman, and my shoulders brushed against the walls uncomfortably.
“First time for everything, I guess.” He narrowed his gaze, finally letting go of the bottle. He crossed his arms over his chest and his head cocked to the side as he examined me with his stupid, judgemental, gray eyes.
“I’m fine, Doc,” I lied.
“You’re going to do alright,” he offered, ignoring my answer. “Logan is a speed bump. You know how to captain these guys. You were born a leader. If anyone can bring them together, it’s you. Just…” Silas’s eyes trailed up the bus to where Josh sat with his headphones over his ears. “Give him a chance.”
I watched Silas’s demeanor soften, just for a moment. Deep, somewhere beneath all that hardened older brother nonsense, there was a heart he was just trying to safeguard.
“Alright.” I nodded, taking another deep breath as the nausea settled slightly. “But making the team accept him is going to take a miracle.”
“Start brainstorming, Tucker. You’ve got three hours till we hit camp. Then it’s martial law.”
Spring camp was arguably the best part of pre-season. It was two weeks of pure team bonding out in the middle of the woods. We slept in cabins, played games, trained, and came together before the start of the season. It was typically players and a few staff members. Nicholas declared last year that he’d rather chew off his own arm than come to spring camp, but the moment Arlo volunteered to be a chaperone, suddenly Nicholas was ready to go.
Silas always came. I think he liked it out there, in the middle of nowhere, with no responsibilities other than hanging out with the team. But that was when there was no animosity amongst the players, and everyone got along.
Josh threw a wrench in the dynamic. He was a live wire—he always had been. Loud and obnoxious, he was always looking for a fight and would do anything to get one. He got under my skin quickly and with such ease, which was part of the problem. I couldn’t stop the rage that bubbled up in his presence, and if I couldn’t control my feelings about him, how was I supposed to expect that of the guys?
It was going to be a long two weeks.
TUCKER
CamplookedexactlyhowI remembered it. Everyone filed off the cramped bus, stretching out their stiff muscles and inhaling the spring air that flooded our noses. There was still a bit of snow on the ground, but for the most part, the camp was patches of green grass and budding trees.
There were twenty cabins, but we usually only used about half of them. The owners rented the place out to us every spring. It had lake access, a dining hall, a regulation soccer field, a baseball diamond, hiking trails, canoes, an archery range, and a high-ropes obstacle course.
We were assigned cabins each year, usually shuffled around to spend time with teammates we didn’t see often. Van tossed my duffle bag at my feet and stared at me for a moment as I fixed my hoodie over my hips and straightened my hair out under my hat.
“What?” I asked him when he didn’t look away.
“Captain assigns the bunks,” Van murmured beside me, nodding at the guys waiting for direction. “Did you not make the list?”
“He made the list,” Silas said, pulling it from his binder. “He just forgot it on my desk.” His gray eyes bore into me with parental judgment, and I snatched the paper away from him with an eye roll.
I looked down at the list and looked back at Silas with a growl. It bubbled up from my toes into my throat before I could stop it.
“Staff are in cabin one. Everyone else goes in fours until no one is left. If you have an issue with your bunkmates, we can see about—”
Arlo slammed his duffle to the ground, interrupting what I was going to say about changing bunks, and shook his head.‘First of all, you need to learn how to be tough. You can’t let these guys push you around. Spring Camp is a test for you too.’
Arlo’s careful guidance echoed around in the space between my frantic thoughts. I needed to be their captain, not their best friend.
“You know the rules about bunk changes. It’s two weeks and we’re here to bond, so get comfy.” I looked down at the list and inhaled slowly at cabin two’s names. “Get yourselves settled, unpacked, and meet back here in two hours for dinner.”
Staff would help with dinner the first night, but we would keep our typical dinner schedule the rest of the time at camp.
“Cody, Logan, Baker, and myself.” I ground my teeth together but kept a smile on my face. I could do this. I could be an unbiased captain. One of my own making; not a copy of Arlo, but an extension of what he taught me.
“Mitchell, Livvy, Rogers, and Todd,” I said next.
“How come you didn’t call my last name,” Todd groaned loudly.
“I don’t even know your last name.” I scowled with a shrug and kept reading.
Todd stared at me like I had four heads then wandered away with his bunkmates. One after another, they grouped up and disappeared.
