Page 52 of Spotlight
Her smile pulls higher.
“Go out with me, Olivia,” I say. I don’t have much time before Coach realizes I’m missing and mingling with the fans.
She stares at me, a million emotions crossing her face. I can tell she’s conflicted, which means there’s a part of her that wants to say yes.
“You have a game to win.” She looks past me to the field, which probably means people have noticed I’m gone.
“If we win, then will you go out with me?”
She stares at me with an incredulous look, but still doesn’t give in.
Some older gentleman with a bald head and deep lines around his eyes and mouth calls out to her, “Make him throw a no-hitter, honey. I’ve never seen one and this might be my last chance.”
I give him astay-the-hell-out-of-it-,old-manlook and glance back at Olivia.
“You heard the guy,” she says with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.
“Done. If I throw a no-hitter, then you’ll go out with me.”
“You’re serious?” Her brows lift.
I nod my agreement.
“Do you know how rare those are?” she asks.
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “As rare as meeting a woman like you probably.”
Her jaw drops like she can’t believe I just said that. My brothers would give me so much shit for a line like that, but I mean it.
“Only three in the last three years. None in history for the Mustangs,” the old guy pipes in.
Olivia looks nervous for me. Too late now.
“Do we have a deal?” I ask.
“Sure, Hotshot. You throw a no-hitter, and I’ll go out with you.” The way she smirks I know she thinks there’s no chance in hell I’ll pull it off.
But this is one bet I know I won’t lose.
12
FLYNN
After the game, the locker room isn’t as celebratory as I would have imagined for a team pulling off a no-hitter. The guys all celebrated in the moments after the final out, but as the high has worn off, most of them are back to ignoring me.
“I never thought I’d be a part of something like that. Even in a spring training game,” JT says to me. “Thank you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I tell him truthfully. My arm aches and my under-shirt sticks to my body. I have ice wrapped around my right shoulder. Coach wanted to pull me after the seventh inning to rest my arm, but I was too close to winning my bet with Olivia to let a little pain hold me back.
A no-hitter. Something only a handful of pitchers have ever done. Sure, we were playing a team that’s only marginally better than us and their best hitter is out with an injury, but no matter the situation, pitching a no-hitter is still damn hard to do.
I was on fire for the first five innings, but after that it was my team that pulled it off. We looked like we knew what we were doing. Error-free, working together, communicating, and getting it done. It makes me even more inspired to keep at it and get out of here next year. I want to play on a team that makes this kind of magic every night.
I check my phone while I let the ice work on my muscles. I have a bunch of texts from people congratulating me: friends, college teammates, my agent, and of course, my brothers. Brogan’s been busy changing the group name again by the looks of it.
Flynn Holland SUPAFANS
Brogan
