Rounding Third - Michelle Lynn Page 0,3

case is open on the counter, next to his tipped over bottle of solution. Shaving cream and a razor sit hanging over the edge of the sink, along with rows of unopened condom packages, as though he were urgent to find one and dumped the whole box.

This should be fucking great.

After I wipe my washed hands down my jeans because there’s no hand towel, I exit the bathroom and find Spencer in a headlock.

“Damn, you’ve gotten strong,” Brax says, moving the two of them around in a circle.

His blond hair is shaved close to his scalp, and I smile, because of the familiarity of the scene. Since Little League, he’s always shaved his hair before the start of school.

“Get off me.” Spencer punches him in the gut.

Brax releases his hold, gripping his stomach in laughter. “Shit, you grew up, little Lynch.” He appears impressed at Spencer’s skills.

“That’s what happens in two years.” Spencer cocks his neck from side to side and then finds me in the doorway, making Brax’s eyes peer over.

Brax’s smile fades as his shoulders fall. “Hey, Cros.”

“Hi, Brax.”

Even with the use of our shortened names, an uncomfortable silence occupies the small hallway. Spencer’s eyes volley between him and me, judging the way this tense scenario might play out.

“You see your room?” He nods toward the door.

“Yeah, I’m going to take Spencer to his dorm, and I’ll be back.”

“Cool.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Listen, um, no one knows. I mean, they know we went to high school together, but they don’t know, know.”

I nod.

“I just…I didn’t want you to worry about that.”

I nod a few more times. I’ve never seen Brax be unsure of himself. Not even at the funeral when he gave the eulogy because I wasn’t man enough to do it.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome.” His blue eyes cast down to the floor, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “You’d better get going. The parking is already crazy over there.” He focuses his attention on Spencer. “Come by anytime, and bring your buddies. There are enough diamond chicks for everyone.”

I chuckle inwardly at his affectionate moniker for the girls who seem to be chasing their meal ticket on the baseball diamond.

“Thanks,” Spencer says.

Two invitations, and he’s not chomping at the chance?

“I’ll be in the truck.” Spencer walks down the stairs, leaving me alone with someone who was once my best friend.

Brax starts to walk toward his room.

“Hey, Brax.”

He turns around.

“Thanks a lot for not making a big deal about me coming here.”

“No problem.” With that, he walks in his room and shuts his door.

I blow out a stream of air, slowing my thumping heart. If seeing Brax felt like being sliced open, I expect seeing Ella will be like having open-heart surgery—while awake.

I jog down the steps and out of the front door right after grabbing a key that was taped to the door, labeled third base.

Spencer’s in the truck by the time I climb into the driver’s side.

“That was awkward,” he says when I turn the key in the ignition.

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him solemn.”

“Yeah.”

We drive over to his dorm, and Brax was right. Parking is insane. There are cars on the lawn with parents hauling suitcases and bins into the small dormitory. I’m positive that Spencer wishes our mom and dad were here instead of me.

“Let’s get this over with.” He opens the door and slams it shut.

Guess I’m right.

Chapter Two

Ella

“What a fucktard,” Jen, my roommate, says after we walk out of Pi Kappa, my boyfriend’s fraternity.

“He’s busy.” I stick up for Liam, like usual.

She only rolls her eyes, trying to be discreet.

“He wants to make the grades, ace the test, and get into medical school.”

“May I remind you that you’re a pre-med major, too?”

I nod. It’s the same discussion we have each time Liam ditches me and goes upstairs during one of Pi’s big parties. Keeping my mouth shut, so as not to give Jen more ammunition against Liam, I don’t divulge that tonight bugged me more than usual. We haven’t been in school a day yet, and he’s holed himself upstairs, claiming to be ahead of the game on the MCATs. One night wouldn’t have killed him.

“Come on.” Jen hip-bumps me, and her pissed off look has transformed to a fun-loving, ready-for-anything one. “Didn’t you say that Brax called?”

Now, I roll my eyes.

Brax, my one high school friend who attends Ridgemont, has called me no less than ten times in the past two days, requesting