Page 63 of Throwing the Curve

“Fuck off,” Ryan mumbled.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately, dude.”

“Well, maybe you should listen.” Ignoring his friend, he began walking. He was pretty sure he’d seen a smoothie place up this way.

Gonzo quickly kept pace with him. “So, you smiling about Peyton?” he teased.

“I thought you didn’t want me to keep telling you to fuck off.”

Gonzo held up his hands. “Alright, alright, I won’t bug you about your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he muttered. “Not for real anyways.”

“But you want her to be.” Gonzo’s left eyebrow raised in question.

Did he? Fuck, maybe. But no. What they had worked. Peyton was a cool chick to hang out with, and the sex was unbelievable. But girlfriend? No, that just complicated everything. He didn’t have time for that kind of crap. So he settled for simply saying, “Fuck off.”

Gonzo, the bastard, just laughed.

It had been a long road series. They’d swept both Washington and Florida, which had them sitting pretty in the standings, but it had taken a toll on his body. His arm was tired. His teammates were getting on his nerves, and he just wanted his own bed. Thank god they had a couple days off before their next home game.

He pulled his car into the Kidsplay lot, noting Peyton’s car in the parking lot. Honestly, he had no idea what he was doing here. They weren’t supposed to see each other, but somehow his car had just driven here on his way home from the airport.

Not questioning it, he exited the car and made his way across the parking lot. He nodded to the group of teens leaning against the side wall.

“Nice game against Washington last night. You lit ‘em up,” one youth called.

“Yeah, thanks, the arm felt good. Our boys were on the sticks. It was an excellent series.”

A tall boy with a hood pulled over his head stepped forward. “Peyton said you might do some pitching clinics this fall.”

“That’s the plan. When we start will depend on playoffs. Selfishly, I’m hoping we have to push it back because we’re in the world series, but time will tell.”

“That’d be cool. The clinics will be open to anyone?”

“I don’t see why not.”

The youth shrugged. “Sometimes those things are just open to the little guys because they actually have a chance of doing something.”

“You want to learn?”

The boy shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Maybe.”

“You ever played?”

“Nah, wanted to but…”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” The boy’s eyebrows rose in question as he stared at Ryan.

“I’ve got a couple of days off. I could stop by and throw around with you for a bit tomorrow after school. I need to stay loose, so if you’re interested—"

“For real?”

“Yeah, why not?”

The boy’s eyes lit up and a smile split across his face before he quickly masked it, slouched his shoulders and nodded slowly. “I could probably make that work.”

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