Page 40 of Honeysuckle
“We can win.” I finished his sentence with a small proud nod. He completed his circle just in time for Silas to sound the siren that told us dinner was ready. “Alright, go shower and meet for dinner.”
The guys piled off the field, chatting with each other, and I watched as Van turned to Josh. I was ready to get between them, but Van’s brows scrunched together before he asked him a question about his back foot placement on the mound.
Josh explained it to him slowly, and twice over, Van mimicking the movement in choppy steps as they walked. Even afterwards, with everyone packed into the dining hall, dinner went alright. Josh sat with us again and actually ate a full plate of pasta. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious, but I was still too stressed to have an appetite, and the four small bites that hit my stomach weighed a thousand pounds.
I leaned back in my chair and watched everyone finish.
In a few days, we’d be back in Harbor—and I’d be a caged animal again. Forced to put on fake smiles that meant nothing to people who didn’t really know me. I was already over it, and the suffocating pinch of my parents' expectations for me loomed.
I could hear my mother’s voice, peaking and pulling at the back of my mind. She would want to know who I was taking to the Gala that season. Being captain had brought down so many more problems on my head than I’d expected from her. All of a sudden, the pressure of having a partner or, in her words, agirlfriend,was exponential. It had to be one the family would be proud of and that the press could gawk over as the season progressed.
Not a word out of her mouth had been about my needs.
It would kill her to know that Cael and I had gone together last year, in quiet solidarity. We told her that it was because ‘we wanted to keep our options open’ when, in reality, I just wanted to fuck Cael in the locker room showers.
He’d had other plans for the occasion.
But that’s how it had always been. Me expecting Cael to be there for me, and Cael not understanding what that meant. It was odd to think how far we’d come since that night. There were no more overdoses, but there was also no more ‘us’.
I sighed, heavy with the weight of it all.
“What’s up with you?” Silas leaned over the table, and it was only then that I realized I had been sitting, staring at the ceiling. Everyone had left, and the dining hall was quiet except for the players in the kitchen doing dishes.
“Nothing, just tired. The bunks aren’t exactly made for anyone of exceptional height.” I looked up at him. “You fit because you’re 5'10”.”
“First of all, I’m 6’2”, and it’s not my fault they don’t sell bunks made for overgrown children orHulklings.” Silas sank into the chair across from me.
“You’ve had nothing but toast and three bites of pasta in—” he paused to think about it, “oh, I don’t know, six days?”
“I’ve eaten, Doc, thanks though. You don’t get a body like this from toast.” I gave him a half-hearted flex, and he scowled at me in response.
“We’re not doing this again, Tucker.” He slid his elbows against the table and stared me down with his judgmental glare.
“It’s not that,” I stopped him quickly. Fresh out of high school, coming off an impressive senior baseball season, I was distracted. So distracted that I’d lost nearly sixty pounds in my first semester at Harbor. Silas had caught it quickly, but it had taken me another forty pounds and an embarrassing collapse during a game for me to admit to it. I had dropped to one hundred and sixty pounds.
“It is that.” Silas pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head at me. “A lot is riding on your shoulders now, but if you need help, say it and I’m there.”
“I’m fine, Silas.” I pushed up from the table and inhaled slowly. “Food at camp just sucks.”
“It’s the same food as home, Tucker. Do not walk away from me,” Silas grumbled, his tone becoming increasingly annoyed with my dismissal.
I turned and looked at him from the end of the table.
“I thought we’d figured this out,” he said, standing to match my gaze. “You’ve got to prioritize yourself, Dean. Focusing too narrowly on a win is dangerous. You can’t win from a facility, and I warned you, if you couldn’t manage your eating dis—”
“It’s not a disorder, don’t say that.” I waved my hands in front of my body and stepped closer to him, lowering my voice so the guys in the kitchen couldn’t hear. “I’m not sick, it’s not that. I’m fine, I’m eating, it’s fine.”
Silas chuckled. “You’ve said that word three times in two sentences. You’re not sick, but you’re alsonotfine, and you’re not eating. It’s not just me that’s noticed.”
I swallowed tightly and folded my arms over my chest, ready to argue.
“Cael is a busybody. He doesn’t have problems of his own anymore, so he’s trying to dig them out—”
“It was Josh.” Silas cut me off in a quiet tone.
“What?” I scowled.
“He came to me after they got back from the city for a conversation, and he mentioned that you’d been skipping breakfast,” Silas explained. “I didn’t push for more, but the slope is slippery, and if you’re not eating breakfast…”
