The Troublemaker

“And she’s demanding she picks the colors for our wedding,” Jagger says. “Maybe we should just go with Carolina blue.”

“Oh, fuck no.” I glare at my sister, who is laughing. “Don’t you dare, Josephine.”

“But I love Carolina blue,” Jo says innocently.

“I will riot.”

“It’s her wedding, love.”

I hear the bat make contact with the ball and look at the game just in time to see it leave the park. We all stand up, cheering loudly.

“When does Mitch play?” Jo asks.

I shrug a shoulder.

“Now.” Jag chuckles, glancing over at me. “You really haven’t been to a game, huh?”

“No, I’ve been to practices though. I usually work when they have games, or have prior commitments.” I smile. Honestly, I haven’t wanted to go to a game by myself and Soleil actually works nights, and I don’t want to bring Archer, so yeah, I’ve been avoiding this.

“Welp, they just struck out so I guess we’ll get to see our boy play now,” Mom says.

Our boy. Jesus Christ on a cracker. She makes it worse by pulling out her phone and hitting record. She doesn’t record the field though, she stands up and records the stands. I’m about to tell her she looks ridiculous, but the crowd starts going wild. Wild, wild. Screaming louder than I’ve ever heard at any baseball game that’s not a World Series. I look around, confused, then look at my sister, who’s laughing at the expression on my face.

“What is happening?” I’m still looking around, for a mascot throwing free T-shirts or something, when my sister grabs my face and points it at the field.

Mitchell is jogging to the mound, waving his glove with a huge grin on his face as everyone continues to go completely bananas.

“This is for Mitch?” I shout, still confused.

“Dude, he’s a fucking god,” Jagger says. “You’ve been missing out.”

The way he says it, I don’t know if he’s talking about me not seeing his brother playing or about not hooking up with his brother, so I choose not to respond just in case. Instead, I look back onto the field, where Mitch is setting up, pushing his shoulders back and bending his elbows as his eyes zone in on the glove he’s targeting. I know he’s looking at the glove and not at me, but my body didn’t get the memo and my heart starts pounding harder, faster. He strikes the first guy out, and the crowd goes wild again. It’s a mixture of Tar Heels and theeeeeeeeee troublemaker, which seriously makes me laugh, because how corny is that? I say this to my sister, who shrugs like she sort of likes it.

“It’s because he gives everyone trouble,” Dad mansplains.

“Gee, I had no idea it could have meant that,” I say.

“Be nice, Misty.” That’s Mom, under her breath, since she’s still recording.

He strikes the second guy out.

“That’s right, baby.” Jagger and Maverick stand up, clapping.

When the third strike out comes, everyone goes wild again.

“I hope you’re taking notes, suckers,” Mav says.

I laugh loudly. Mitch is the first batter up this time. He makes contact with the ball, but the pitcher catches it and he runs back to the bullpen. As he does, he glances over and winks, and I swear if I wasn’t bright red already this is the moment I would be. That is, until some girl behind me says, “Oh my gosh that was totally to you. He was totally looking at you.”

I glance over my shoulder with a scowl and look at the two of them. They’re doing a much better job than I am at being Mitchell’s number one fan. They’re both wearing sky blue cropped shirts that say CRUZ 8 on the front. Obviously homemade, which makes it even cuter. I turn back around and face the field again.

Jo nudges me. “He was winking at you.”

“Well, they think it was at them and that’s okay. They’re actually here to see him.”

“And you’re not?” She raises an eyebrow.

I dip down into my seat and cross my arms. The cheering for Mitchell does not subside in the least and I realize that if this is how it is at a collegiate level, I’ll never have him to myself. Not really anyway. Though, Jagger plays professional football and he’s obsessed with my sister and acts like he has separation anxiety when the Panthers go out of town, so maybe Mitch would be similar. Not that I want him to be super dependent on me, but it would be nice not to have to worry about him cheating. I groan. The girlfriend of an athlete life is just not for me.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mitch

She’s only looked in my direction once since we got to her parents’ house and it’s killing me. I play it cool though, talking to my brothers, her parents, her sister, basically everyone but her. It’s what I’ve been doing for five years, what both of us have been doing. We ignore each other and when we do end up talking just the two of us it always ends up in a bickering argument. Not this time though. If pushing aside all the things I really want to say to her is the only way to get her to be amicable and agree to go out with me, then so be it. In the past she’s called me pushy and claimed I want her to be with me and only me while I’m out playing the field. She has a right to that claim, of course. Not that I’ve ever brought a girl to any of our family gatherings, but still, people talk and I know she’s heard a thing or two about my sexcapades.