Page 16 of Players and Pages
I had a feeling he was referring to more than just my cosplays. I’d grown up in a family with six kids. I was the quiet one, the one forgotten for events. I’d stood on stage at reward ceremonies, academic events, and even during opening nights when I did plays, with not a single person in the audience for me.
Until them.
Hiding made it easier to drown out the memories. I could fall into character and forget the rejected, sad little boy that everyone saw through like he was transparent.
Hell, even now they didn’t invite me to family dinners or events. My oldest sister got married and I didn’t even get an invitation.
The only time I heard from them was when rosters were announced. They were shocked I played baseball, let alone made it professionally. How fucking sad was that?
That voicemail sent me into a tailspin, my packmates the only ones able to bring me back to earth.
So, was I hiding now? Yes. Because I didn’t think I could take it if our mate only had eyes for them and overlooked me.
Outside of them, she was the one person on this planet that shouldn’t push me aside for someone better or more outgoing.
“Okay, enough. Up.” Cy said, clapping his hands. There was that familiar worry lining his eyes, making his smile fall flat.
Was I looking that bad?
“Yes,” he said. “I’m not risking another rock bottom, Jackson. Stay present with us and give her a chance. No hiding from this one.”
I blinked at him, stunned that Cy of all people was seeing right through everything and refusing to let me sink into the comfort of invisibility.
“We’re going to lunch,” he said as he stood. “Go shower, change, and meet us at the door.”
I never could deny him. The way Cy lit up made you feel safe and seen, and at my core, I craved that.
Ten minutes later I was showered and changed, a ballcap on my head to tame the wild tangles of my wet hair that severely needed a cut, dark jeans, and a Legend of Zelda tee I’d worn to the point of buttery softness.
“You here?” Griff asked. There was no hedging around with him. He was blunt to a fault. I swallowed hard and nodded.
“Trying to be.”
“Good,” he said, tapping the bill of my hat and leading me out the door. “We’ve got plans today. Lunch, then Coach needs to see us.”
“Us, specifically?”
“Apparently,” he sighed. “Lancaster didn’t seem to know anything about it.”
“A few days ago Coach was muttering about a summer kids camp thing, I bet he’s trying to rope us in,” Cy said with a sigh. “Which would be one more thing to pull us away from finding her.”
With that looming over us, not one of us was up for sitting at a restaurant. Instead, we snagged hot dogs from the kiosk in front of the stadium before heading into Coach’s office, hoping to catch him early.
“I’m glad you came in,” Coach said in that gruff way of his. Those shrewd, gray eyes started with Cy, moved to Griff, then stopped on me, lingering long enough to make me shift on my feet. “Are you good, son?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, sir. Fine.”
He narrowed his eyes and looked at the others. “You tell me if that changes.”
“Yes, sir,” they both agreed easily. “We’ve got him.”
The fact the coach noticed meant I wasn’t doing my best job at hiding it. It had barely been a week since that fateful game. The team knew what was going on, which meant Coach did, too. I’d have to get it together before they threw a whole ass intervention.
Coach was already moving on, leading the way to his office and sitting down. “Now, Henry told me that you three volunteered for the summer program. I’m not stupid. I know damn well that’s a lie and I’ll address that later. However, I do think you’re a good fit. I’ll even count it as half of your yearly event quota.”
I perked up at that. Kids were way less judgmental and if it meant getting out of some of the awful, grueling galas and charity events, I was going to jump on it.
“What exactly are we signing up for?” I questioned, needing details before I let Cy blindly commit us to something.
