Page 35 of Wild Pitch
The kid must be six years old and his smile has more gaps than teeth. “Cade, you’re my favorite pitcher in the whole wide word! My momma says you’re from here and that I can be like you when I grow up.”
Er, hopefully not. Hopefully he grows up better.
“Whole wide world, sweetie. Don’t forget the l.”
The kid puckers his mouth to try again. “Wuo—would—world?” He manages, but the word sounds garbled and uncomfortable, and for the first time all day I want to laugh.
“Here.” A woman’s perfectly manicured hand appears in my field of vision, a million bracelets dangling from her thin wrist as she holds out a black Sharpie to me.
“Thanks.” I pluck it and take the ball from the boy’s hand. “What’s your name, little cowboy?”
“Jerry with a J.” Toothy grin follows.
I can’t help but returning it. “Nice to meet you, Jerry with a J.” I make quick work of my sloppy signature, which includes asloppier star, and dedicate it to Jerry with a J, although I’m nice enough to omit the last three words. “Here you go.”
“Yay!”
“Thank you,” a man’s voice says, and that’s when I notice both parents standing behind the child. I rise up again, capping the Sharpie to return it to the mom, when I finally lift my head and freeze.
I recognize their faces. They made sure I memorized them when I was in high school.
She has the iron balls to smile at me. Megan, my first girlfriend and first ex. “Hi, Cade. Long time no see.”
“Maybe we should take a selfie to commemorate this special moment, huh? Back together again after almost ten years.” And he—Jimmy—has even more gigantic balls to say that, as if he hadn’t been the one to lead the bullying campaign that resulted in Megan dumping my ass because, and I quote, she had just gone out with me for charity. And as if the two of them hadn’t turned the whole school against my sorry fifteen year old ass up until the moment I became a varsity player and he didn’t.
I wish I didn’t care, and normally it’s easy to pretend that I don’t. After, all, I hadn’t thought about these two since graduation. But something about being back in this place has me feeling raw.
I stuff my hands in the pockets of my joggers and narrow my eyes as if I didn’t have one of the best eyesights in the team. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I know you?”
I can tell this is the best diss I could’ve come up with without resorting to f-bombs in front of their innocent kid, because their faces turn into two masks of stupefaction.
While Megan is making an effort to recover, a different voice sounds behind me. “Hey, Starr. We’re gonna leave you behind if you keep dallying.”
I turn over my shoulder and whatever the look is on my face visibly weirds Garcia out so much that she blinks hard.
“Coming,” I say to her, and then to the little kid I add, “Stay out of trouble in school and be a good kid, okay, Jerry with a J?”
“Yes!” He gives an enthusiastic nod of his head and I wave at him, and only at him, before turning on my heels
To my surprise, Garcia waits for me. As we head together for the bus, she asks, “What was that?”
“What?” I ask.
She motions at her face. “That goofy ass look on your face.”
“Oh, that was me being a damsel in distress. You were my knight in shining armor out there, darlin’.” I smirk.
But Garcia, being the intense person she is, doesn’t take this as the joke I intended. Instead, she pulls at my arm until I stop right before the bus entrance. “Starr, did they do anything to you? Do you I need to call security?”
I debate the merits of calling security on people who hurt me a decade ago—sure would’ve loved to have any backup back then—but even in my addled state I can see how there’s no point.
Freeing my arm, I put it around her shoulders to steer her into the entrance. “Nah, let’s just get the hell out of dodge.” Without looking back, I climb onto the bus.
CHAPTER 13
HOPE
Hmm. I don’t know about this one.
