Page 16 of Lines We Cross
I may not have liked what she said, but at least she was talking to me in complete sentences again. I scratched the back of my neck, wincing.
“Coach texted this morning. They’re looking to replace me.”
Crap. I hadn’t meant to say that. Way over the line into vulnerable and I didn’t need to give her any more ammunition for goading me.
Her frown dropped and her eyes went soft. It was a good look on her. My face felt warm, a sensation I wasn’t used to. I shifted from foot to foot. I needed to move, needed to burn off all this energy that had no physical way to be released. All that energy I usually expended on the ball field was coming out in the form of pesky emotions, childish tantrums, and vulnerable truth bombs better left tucked away.
“I’m sorry, Max. That’s got to be rough. I promise you we’ll get you fully healed.” She bit her lip for a second and my gaze followed, suddenly obsessed with those full lips I’d memorized when we were in high school. “But I can’t guarantee it’ll be enough to get you back on the baseball field.”
Hearing the same doubts that floated through my head on a minute-by-minute basis spoken out loud by the one woman I’d hoped to impress was more than my emotional capacity could handle. So I pushed when I should have accepted the truth for what it was.
“I’m sure you know what you’re doing, but wouldn’t your reputation really shine if you got a professional baseball player back out on the field when no one thought it possible?” I smirked at her, wanting her to accept the challenge. Needing someone to want it to happen as badly as I did. To not be alone.
She rolled her shoulders back unconsciously. “My reputation is already sterling. I’m not a miracle worker, Max. Maybe you should stop looking for someone to bail you out and take responsibility for your own life for once.”
And there it was. My old friend anger, burning its way up my skin.
“What do you mean ‘for once’? I’ve always taken responsibility for my own actions. Always.”
She smiled. Literally smiled at me like a petulant child. “Okay, sure. Whatever story you want to believe.”
I shook my head and scoffed. “You’re impossible.”
I stormed away, finally getting to use the energy that now crackled through my veins, fueled by anger. Fueled by self-righteousness. Who did she think she was? She had no idea what kind of person I’d become in the last twelve years. In the back of my mind, a little voice whispered that if she didn’t know me, I couldn’t possibly know her either. But I ignored that voice, too bitter and incensed to be bothered with sound logic.
“Heath,” I called out when I got close to him and the mayor. They looked to be having a serious conversation, so I didn’t want to interrupt for long.
He turned, a smile letting me know he knew exactly why I was here so early. I shook the mayor’s hand and asked Heath to meet me over by the ticket booth when he was done. I made my way across the grass yet again, nodding hello at people I recognized. I grabbed my wallet and waited for the lady ahead of me with three little ones to buy her tickets and move away from the window.
“Hey, Max. I’m Kadee, remember?” The blonde smiling at me on the other side of the glass partition looked familiar, but I had to wrack my brain to place her. Finally it dawned on me.
“Kadee, Rae’s friend, right?”
Her smile broadened and it brought back memories of the two of them huddled together, scheming of ways to torment us boys.
“The one and only! Takes me, Ava, and Lacey combined to pull Skylar away from that clinic of hers to have some fun. Girl works too hard. Nearly ran herself ragged when Emerson was sick.” Her cherry-glossed lips turned into a frown at the mention of Emerson. Funny, mine did too, but this time I had more than just grief on my mind. I wondered at how Rae handled Emerson’s death.
“Yeah. That had to have been a rough time,” I said absentmindedly. This was always a tricky situation. What could you possibly say to convey the loss of your best friend?
“Man, you have no idea!” She shook herself, as if to shake off the sad thoughts, pasting on a smile once again. “What can I get ya? Tickets for the rides? Oh, I know! How about signing up for the Bigfoot forest race?” She shoved a clipboard beneath the glass.
I chuckled, getting caught up in her enthusiasm. “Can’t really run the race what with my knee in bad shape, but I’d love some ride tickets.”
“You got it, boss. Hang on while I grab a new stack of tickets.” She spun around and dug through some boxes behind her in the small wooden booth.
I looked down at the clipboard and saw some names scrolled onto the page, clearly some early risers who wanted very badly to do the forest race. If they did it the way they had when I was a kid, that race was no joke. Wooden walls to scale, rope swings, and mud pits. Sounded like a ton of fun to me, but I knew half the citizens of Nickel Bay had little interest in running it. Everyone came out to cheer everyone else on though. That’s just how a small town did things.
An idea occurred to me and I went with the impulse, scrawling my sloppy handwriting across the clipboard. Probably a bad idea, but life was short, right? Why stay on the sidelines when you could grab life by the Bigfoot and shake out some happiness?
Kadee spun back around and flourished a huge stack of tickets in the air, hitting her hand on the booth’s low ceiling.
“Ouch! But totally worth it, because I found the rest of the tickets. What kind of fundraiser would this be if I ran out of ride tickets to sell. Am I right?”
I chuckled again, seeing why Rae was friends with her. Her joyful attitude was infectious. Maybe a little insane too, but the best people usually were. A tickle hit my nose and I was quick to cover my mouth when I sneezed.
“Bless you, sweet child of love,” Kadee trilled through the glass booth.
I grinned. Totally forgot everyone around here said that when you sneezed. In the cities I visited, you mostly got a sneer when you sneezed, as if you were spreading bubonic plague.
