The Ninth Inning (The Boys of Baseball #1) - J. Sterling Page 0,20

often they posted. I’d read all their comments, noting if they ever responded or not. I had a social media file with Cole’s name on it that I should have tossed in the trash after last August, but I could never bring myself to do it.

“I mean, if their social media is that bad, I’d be doing them a favor by helping.” I grinned, and she pretended not to be overly excited at my agreement.

The one thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to start my own social media management company. I assumed that I would have to work for someone else after graduation to get more real-life experience, but being my own boss and getting hired as an independent contractor was my end goal. I wanted to work with multiple clients and offer a sliding scale of services—from the basic, light finessing to total hands-on management every day. Whatever a person needed on their social networks, I planned on being their one-stop shop.

I had originally debated between specializing in high-profile companies or individuals. I carefully weighed out the professional pros and cons versus what I thought would interest me the most in the long run. I didn’t want to get into something that I’d burn out on quickly, so making the initial decision wasn’t as easy as it might have seemed.

Working for high-profile companies would come with a huge paycheck and stability, but I worried that I might get bored at some point or be bound too tightly by their company policies and politics or that I’d feel stuck with what I could and couldn’t do creatively. I absolutely wanted the safety and financial security that a large company could provide but not at the cost of my heart.

I didn’t want to play it safe when it came to my passions, and that was when I had known … that working for individual people was the right choice for me. I remembered feeling instantly lighter after the realization, and it only reinforced the decision I’d made. I knew that I’d still be bound by beliefs and what my clients wanted to show to their followers, but I’d be more involved in how they presented it. My job would have a more intimate approach rather than me feeling like a replaceable cog on a corporate wheel.

We walked toward our respective buildings, our parking structure closing in on me as it neared in the distance.

“Don’t look at it.” Lauren nudged my shoulder with her own, knowing all that it represented, and I shot her a look.

“I wasn’t planning on it. I wish they’d demolish it.”

The stupid building hovered, calling to me like a bright beacon of neon, highlighting all the memories I had shared there with Cole. It taunted me. Haunted me.

Lauren laughed. “It’s not the parking structure’s fault. They just can’t demolish something because you’re mad at it.”

“Stop being logical. If I want logic, I’ll ask for it.” I frowned, wanting to change the subject. The topic of conversation needed to stop revolving around Cole Anders.

I was about to ask Lauren the name of the band, so I could do some online research before the show tonight, but some not-so-quiet pieces of conversation caught my ear.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Slapped him.”

“He hates her for it.”

“I hooked up with him that night anyway. It’s not like he’s into her.”

My steps faltered only the tiniest bit, but Lauren locked her movements in time with mine and smiled big for any girls looking our way to see. “Don’t listen to them.”

The girls on campus had always said things under their breath about me or Cole whenever I was around. It was petty and immature, and you would think I’d be used to it by now, but I hated the way being the topic of conversation felt. Especially when it wasn’t ever anything nice or complimentary. A girl could only take hearing, “She’s not even that cute,” so many times before she wanted to beat someone senseless.

And it was all Cole’s fault. It’d felt like everyone on campus knew about the two of us hooking up the minute after it happened, and apparently, it was everyone’s business. Other females made sure I knew that I wasn’t the only one spending time with Cole. Heaven forbid a girl felt special for two seconds. Oh no, not when it came to a highly desired baseball player at Fullton State. Cole Anders was a hot commodity, and I would not be the one to take him off