Page 34 of The Scout

* * *

I found myself sitting alone in my bedroom. Just me and my thoughts on how I should have done things differently. The sayingshoulda, coulda, wouldapopped into my head. Yes, I should have, but if I could have, I would have. That was my only justification.

Cash told me it wasn’t my fault. He was right. It wasn’t. Except aside from his dick for a dad, he still hadn’t provided an explanation of how my calls seemed to fall into the abyss. Why? Why didn’t he get them?

Getting up, I went to the closet, reached under the stack of ten-sizes-too-big sweaters my grandmother had knitted me, and pulled out a shoebox full of memories. Back on my bed, I lifted off the cover.

Carefully, I took the top picture between my thumb and forefinger. It was when I wore Cash’s jersey to a game for the first time. I smiled at the memory.

“All the girlfriends wear one.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Are you a girl?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Are you not my best friend?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re right. You’re not my girlfriend.” He chuckled at my scowl. “You’re my best girlfriend. Or at least I want you to be.”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

Cash shook his head. “You small-town girls ...”

I swatted his shoulder anytime he made that comment. At that point, he should have had a bruise.

That damn smile had me wanting things with him that I’d never even thought to want with any other boy in class.

“Us small-town girls what?” I prodded with an arched brow.

“Are the sexiest girls in the world.”

I knew that wasn’t what he meant, but I ate it up anyway. Especially when he followed that with, “Well, you are. I don’t like anyone else. Me and you, Hannah and Cash. Hall and Jameson. Boyfriend and girlfriend ... if you say yes. Will you, Hannah Hall, be my girlfriend and wear my jersey?”

At that moment, if he had proposed marriage, I might have said yes. Not that I’d get married at sixteen, but I could see myself with him forever. My mom and dad said best friends make the best spouses.

“Yes, Cash. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

And like that day in my basement when he’d kissed me for the first time, I turned into a puddle of molten goo. If he hadn’t wrapped me in a hug at that very moment, I might have fallen down.

“Forever, Hannah. You’ll be my girlfriend forever.”

A tear ran down my cheek as I turned my head to look out the window facing my backyard. Thanks to the barren tree that died when it was hit by lightning last year, I could see straight through Cash’s window. He and Jimmy were sitting on the couch, both facing forward, presumedly watching something on TV.

An unwanted pang of jealousy hit. I didn’t want to feel that way ... especially when it came to my son and his father. They should be bonding. Years ago, I’d prayed for that moment. To see them together, laughing as they were now. Grabbing my pillow, I hugged it to my chest and continued to stare. Jimmy said something that made Cash ruffle his hair before shoving his shoulder.

Turning away, I covered the box and set it aside. Time moved on, our lives went in different directions, and yet I still smiled because those two kids had created an amazing one.

Love. Love did that.

Between the photographs and the mix of emotions from the day, my energy was depleted. Before I went to bed, I sent Jimmy a message and said what I had every night since the day I knew he was growing inside of me:Good night. I love you.

Rather than wait for a reply that I wasn’t sure would come, I turned off the light and crawled into bed. But when my phone pinged, I couldn’t help but snatch it off the nightstand.

Cash:Jimmy’s sleeping, but I saw your text. I didn’t want you to think he was ignoring you. Everything is fine. We watched a movie. Talked about pitching. Little League. And how you were the team’s mom. Our son loves you. I know you know that. But since he’s asleep, I’ll say it for him.

---