Page 162 of Chasing Headlines

A cheer rose from the crowd. I dragged my attention back to the field. Light sparked in my eyes. Wavered. My head throbbed. I shut my eyes and held onto the rail.

“Hey, you ok?” Jimenez's voice hissed near my ear.

“Fine.”

“You sure? Maybe you should sit down. Take it easy.”

I frowned at the dirt outside the dugout. “You've been hanging out with that wannabe doctor.”

“Hilda, my goddess. Just remember this: if you fall down and land on your head, I’ll just step over your carcass on my way to the field. Cause I'm playing in theactual game.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Fendleman came by and grabbed my hat, turned it inside out and slapped it back on my head. A little too hard. Lights swam in front of my eyes for an instant. I was fine, though. Just needed more sleep.

He settled next to me. Met my gaze and raised his chin. “Be ready.”

I huffed. “Sure.”Yeah, right. No way coach puts me in.But at least I was here. And even though I'd spent so much of the past eight months bitter and angry that my life hadn't turned out differently . . . The chat I'd had with him before the game, actually gave me some hope.

Sitting on the bench, Fendleman pulled his shoes from his bag. Untied the laces. He worked quietly, eyes cast down. I got the impression he was thinking.

“Saw you at baseball camp.”

I shrugged. “Think we've all done our time in camp.”

“National camp. Before your senior year.”

Oh. “That whole summer's a blur.” I leaned against the rail, my back facing the field. “Things were pretty bad at home.”

“Yeah, tough break.” He bent to tie his cleat. Knotted the laces and righted himself. “My dad took off when I was fifteen. Didn't come back.” He worked the knot out of his other shoe. “It's not exactly the same as you, but the upheaval, the loss. I get it.”

I nodded. What could I say to that?

“You're a hell of a third baseman, though. I think you prefer centerfield. But coming from a third baseman. You were something to watch.” He glanced up as he finished tying his shoe.

I kicked at some dirt. “You're right, I prefer center.”

“Man, the way you drilled that ball to first base, on one knee. I could see why you were going pro. I know it was a downer to get ousted from the draft, but you can be a real leader here. When me and Dereks and Kins graduate, you fish are the future of the team. No junior and only a couple of sophomores could step in and take the captain title.”

Strange fizzy bubbles churned inside. I took in a breath.

“Honestly, man, the way you've been acting, it's not gonna be you. But it could be. I remember who you were then. And that something, it's still in there. I know it. We just gotta reignite it.” He stood and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I wanna see you on third base next year. But you're gonna have to earn it.”

I pressed my lips together. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t be here next year, but I knew better than to say that.

“So, from here on out, I'm gonna kick your ass every day until you get it together,” he said with a lopsided grin. “You get me?”

I rubbed the back of my head. “Is this how you make friends?”

“No, it's howyoumake friends. I'm speaking your language right now. I'm meeting you where you're at. You've been a real asshole. I'll be a bigger one until you get your shit together.”

I found Meyers on the back bench. “You done?”

“I can go.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Your tells are all there. You're done.”

He opened his eyes and scowled at me. “I'll go.”