it. I wondered if I could be that lucky.
First-Game Nerves
Chance
“Not to freak you out or anything, but I need you to look at your mom, dude,” Mac said, and I wondered what the fuck he was talking about.
I rarely looked in the stands. Maybe a quick glance at my little sister when she screamed my name like a banshee but never any other time. Especially not when Mac suggested I did it. That usually meant he was scoping out chicks.
My mom was not a chick. Well, not one for Mac to be checking out anyway, if he wanted to continue living.
I turned and searched the stands for her usual seat. “Whoa,” I said out loud, my heart leaping into my throat as I noticed that my sister was not the person sitting next to my mom, like I had expected.
Danika sat on the other side of her instead.
“Did you know she was coming?” Mac asked, keeping his voice low.
“I didn’t even know she was back in town,” I responded in the same quiet tone, not wanting to draw attention or have any of my teammates overhear.
“And she’s sitting with your mom?”
“Apparently.”
“Did you start dating Tutor Girl and not tell me?” Mac whined. “I’m hurt, man. I’m supposed to be your best friend.”
“You are my best friend, idiot. We’re not dating. I haven’t talked to her in weeks, and she has a—” I started to say before he cut me off.
“Boyfriend. I know. But we both know he cheated on her, and I’d bet it wasn’t the first time. Maybe she found out and dumped his ass?” He sounded excited at the prospect, and I had to admit that the idea excited me too.
“Maybe.”
I hated not telling Danika what I had seen at the party, but I always fell back on the fact that if I was supposed to be the one to tell her, she would have been home that night. And she wasn’t. So, nothing had changed.
“Chance! Mac! Get your asses over here,” Coach Jackson yelled.
We scrambled down to where he stood in the dugout. The rest of my teammates watched, and I was embarrassed for being so blatantly called out.
“Coach,” we both addressed him at the same time.
“What the hell is so interesting in the stands?” he asked, craning his head to look out toward the half-filled stadium.
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head, and Mac responded in kind.
“Then, keep your eyes on the field. Heads in the game,” he demanded even though the game hadn’t started.
The visiting team was still taking infield, but we didn’t dare argue.
“Yes, Coach,” I said before punching Mac in the arm as we headed away.
We stopped about halfway, leaning our arms against the bars that separated the dugout from the field, and watched the opposing team finish up.
“Sorry,” Mac apologized for drawing my attention to the stands in the first place and getting us yelled at by Coach.
“It’s fine,” I said as I moved to grab my catcher’s helmet and glove.
It was our turn to take infield and show these guys who they were up against.
I hated to admit that we were a little rusty. We’d racked up three errors in six innings, and that was something we never did. Our team was typically flawless. It was what we were known for. Coach Jackson was pissed, his face as red as a tomato even though we were still winning by two runs. Our pitchers were off, missing my calls and missing their marks. I had to work extra hard behind the plate to catch their shitty pitches and frame them as strikes, which was fine, but I was keenly aware that Danika was two rows behind my back, watching my every move.
I’d never dealt with that kind of mental distraction before. Girls always looked at me, waited for me after games, yelled out my name, and shit like that, but I never cared before. I cared now. I cared way too much for my own good.
“Let’s go, Chance!” My mom’s cheerful voice met my ears, and I fought back a smile that no one could see behind my mask anyway.
The runner at first base—where Mac stood, waiting for my throw—taunted me after each pitch snapped into my glove. He kept taking two skitter steps toward second before he moved back, looking like an idiot because I knew he wasn’t running. At least, not yet. His body language gave him away. His legs might have been moving toward second base, but nothing else on