Dirty Curve

My first official walk of the season.

My head is fucking screaming on the inside, but I pull at everything I’ve got to hold it in, simply stepping off the mound and pointing at the big belly bastard.

Don’t fuck with me, blue. Not today.

The man just shakes his head, and when I turn mine, I spot Coach coming out onto the field.

Fuck!

He steps up, meeting my eye with a strain in his own. “You need off this field?”

“No.”

“You sure, ‘cause—”

“I said no, Coach. Let me finish.”

“Bases are loaded, and you have one out.”

“I know what I have and what I don’t.”

He opens his mouth, but remembers the cameras are on us and gives a brisk nod. “Do your fucking job, son.”

Rolling my shoulders, I adjust my hat, look across the field and then face my boy.

Echo nods, slaps his glove and drops into position, so I do the same.

We’re near the bottom of their lineup, a kid from Kentucky with a batting average below 230. Sitting him down will be cake.

Echo doesn’t let up, and drops two fingers, so I nod, giving in.

Curve it is.

I send the fucker, but I know the second it leaves my palm, I’m fucked. That baby’s coming around too soon, showing itself, and I watch in disgust as the punk’s grip tightens around the thick leather.

The ball connects with the bat in the perfect fucking spot at the perfect fucking time.

His swing is hard and solid and he doesn’t drop his shoulders or his head, that boy sends it ... right over the goddamn wall.

Grand fucking slam.

I throw my mitt into the dirt, kicking it away while all four fuckers round the bases to home plate.

Echo comes out to talk to me, but I give him my back, spinning the other way when he jerks at my collar, forcing me to face him.

I don’t know why, but I shove the guy hard enough to send him lurching back and then the umpire is in my space, shouting something, but I can’t hear.

My ears are ringing, the sun is beaming and the next thing I know, I’ve got the ump’s chest plate in my hand.

I tug him forward, all to send him tumbling onto his ass.

My coaches and half the team are on the field now, but I know what’s coming.

The umpire gives the signal, and I’m ejected from the game.

Coach Reid grips my shirt, but I yank away, unable to look at him as I charge toward the tunnel and into the locker room.

Inside, I tear my jersey from my body, my hat already long gone, and bend at the knee.

I fucking scream, shoot up and start tearing shit off the wall, throwing anything I can grab and reveling in the sound of the clacking metal on metal, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the pain.

The fucking confusion.

The ache I never wanted to feel but do.

This is worse, so fucking much worse, than when my parents turned their backs on me my senior year.

Worse than when I realized I’d never live up to my brother in their eyes.

Worse than when I thought I’d never again set foot on a field as part of a team.

I feel weak, like a pussy.

Like a little bitch.

‘Cause, fuck me, I’m pretty sure my heart is actually breaking.

Straight up tearing into little pieces inside my body and ripping every blood vessel open with its end.

My body slides along the lockers until my ass hits the floor, my chin slamming into my chest.

I couldn’t handle any of those things and I really can’t handle this.

q

Meyer

I’m on my knees in front of the TV when my name is called.

It takes effort, but I look away from the screen, finding Bianca standing there, her bag slung over one arm.

“Oh, chica.” Tears well in her eyes instantly and she rushes over, falling onto the floor beside me. “I knew you were watching the game.”

I lean into her, shaking my head, but sensation evades me. I can’t feel her arms as they wrap around me and I have no clue what she’s whispering into my hair.

He just broke on the field, right there for all to see, Tobias lost it.

It’s all my fault.

“No honey, it’s not your fault.”

I pull in a choppy breath. “It is.” I sway, fighting back tears. “I knew what would happen, I knew he was more than what everyone saw. I felt something that night months ago. I told ... I told him I couldn’t tutor him. I should have fought him harder. I should have fought myself harder.”

I shouldn’t have fallen in love with him.

But I did, knowing all along nothing could ever come of it.

To allow Tobias to love me would be selfish, because I would be taking away someone else he loves, and that’s wrong.

He doesn’t deserve to feel betrayed by everyone in his life, and I know that’s exactly what would happen, so it’s my job to make sure it doesn’t.