Ridgemont took me. But as captain? No fucking way. My gut twists, as I know we’ll be a surprise to one another. He tried to keep our friendship intact, tried to release my pain with alcohol and girls, but he gave up. I haven’t talked to him in a year and a half.
Gus eagerly jumps to his feet, shakes Coach Fritz’s hand, and comes over to me. “This is everything you’ve been striving for. Don’t fuck it up.” Then, he follows Lipton out the door.
I release a long, steady stream of air.
The opportunity to play for the Tigers is everything I’ve been working for. The problem is, once you get a taste of one thing, you can’t help but want more. And Ella is my more.
“I’m proud of you, Lynch. Good luck up in Ridgemont.”
I stand on the opposite side of Coach Fritz’s desk. He’s the man who gave me my first opportunity. During my entire freshman year, the man dealt with my incompetence, my lateness, and my don’t-give-a-shit attitude. He hammered me into place and made me the ballplayer I am today.
“I cannot thank you enough for the opportunity to play for you, Coach.”
He waves me off, never one to accept a thank-you.
The chairs behind me could belong to a psychologist, considering all the players who fill them on a weekly basis. His open-door policy, his willingness to hear all our problems, is the reason he’s not a Division One coach and instead stuck in this small junior college, but I’m not sure he’d prefer it any other way.
“We were lucky to have you for the short time. You were never meant to be in the junior leagues.” His fingertips press to the desk, and his body stiffens. “Listen to me, Crosby. Your eyes need to be on the future. No distractions. Braxton was your high school friend, and your girl attends Ridgemont as well, but your focus needs to be on your career after college. I’ve never coached someone as teachable as you. You have a naturalness that not many are born with.”
I shake his hand. “I promise. Eyes ahead.”
I walk out of my coach’s office for the last time as a Millcreek Spartan and on my way to becoming a Ridgemont Tiger. I wish I were more excited, but that knot in my stomach and the vision of her eyes almost scare me enough to make me pass up the best opportunity I’ve had in two years. Almost.
My beat-up Chevy pickup pulls up to the baseball house after a long two-day drive.
Brax decided to text me the address instead of opting to call. Not that I minded because I’m sure both of us feel the awkwardness of our situation.
Currently, I’m parked in front of the house that resembles a shack hit by a wicked thunderstorm. Windows are open with curtains flying out of the top ones. Littered across the front porch are beer cans, red Solo cups, and cigarette butts.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
“Just go in,” my little brother, Spencer, says next to me.
For a moment, I forgot he was here.
“I literally feel my stomach twisting.” My teeth scrape along my bottom lip, and suddenly, facing my past seems like the most moronic thought I’ve had. “I haven’t talked to Brax in a long time,” I admit.
But my brother already knows that. He’s been my constant through the years. The one who’s been there for me. My best friend, if I ever accepted another one.
“Hey, remember Dad. Eyes ahead.” He opens the door, leaving me no choice but to man up and deal with my shit.
I climb out of the truck, and I swing my duffel bag over my shoulder, kicking beer cans off the littered pathway the entire way to the porch. The door flies open before I can press the doorbell, and a cute redhead stops. She’s curvy and sexy, in a pin-up model type of way. Her eyes light up, like she’s been starving for weeks and I’m her next meal, and her tongue licks her bottom lip.
“Fresh meat.” Her eyes give me another once-over. “Go Tigers.” She raises her fist in the air, making her shirt rise, allowing Spencer and me to catch a glimpse of her underlying tit. She circles around us, smacking Spencer on the ass and saunters down the stairs.
“Fuck, I wish I had followed in your footsteps with baseball.” He pretends to fall against the side of the house with his hand clasped over his heart.