The Ninth Inning (The Boys of Baseball #1) - J. Sterling Page 0,72

big that it actually hurt my cheeks. I was the luckiest girl on the planet, and I knew it.

Accidents Happen

Cole

I wanted to confront Logan in the locker room the next day, but I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep my temper in check, and I’d do something stupid. Like break his fucking jaw. So, as much as it pained me to let him walk around like he hadn’t talked to Christina and said some crazy shit to her, I kept my distance.

It didn’t last long.

Coach Jackson had us doing hitting and base-running drills when Logan came up to bat. I was already on second base after crushing a double against the wall. Logan swung and hit a nice hard ground ball between short and third, but our shortstop nabbed it. The catch was pretty spectacular, but the throw was wild.

I watched as Mac maneuvered his body in the runner’s base path in order to catch the ball. Logan lowered his head and ran even faster as he tried to beat out the play. They were going to collide if Mac didn’t get out of the way. Mac scrambled to reach for the wild throw while he also twisted his body in an unnatural angle to avoid getting hit by Logan.

I looked away for only a second, but when I looked back, Logan was on the ground, yelling at Mac as he pushed himself back onto his feet. I bolted in their direction along with my other teammates. A group of us crowded around them, making sure they didn’t come to blows.

“You tripped on the bag,” Mac shouted as Logan lunged for him but failed, his ankle giving out underneath the weight of him.

“Because you were blocking it. You did it on purpose. You want me hurt. Cole probably asked you to do it,” he accused as he searched me out, his eyes glaring. He didn’t have to look very far since I was standing right there, ready to defend Mac and anyone else he tried to physically attack.

Give me another reason, pretty boy.

“I was trying to make the play,” Mac ground out, his teeth clenched.

“You were trying to break my ankle,” Logan yelled back.

“Why would I do that?”

No player liked being accused of playing dirty, least of all against one of your own.

“You and I both know why!” Logan gave one last push, and I worried for a split second that someone might believe him.

“Break it up. What the hell is going on here?” Coach Jackson said as he speed-walked toward us, his features hard and irritated, his face beet red. He was pissed as he separated Mac and Logan, pushing them apart before releasing the grip he had on both of their shirts.

“Nothing, Coach.” I tried to defuse the situation and take the lead, but Logan was out for blood.

“Stupid sophomore doesn’t know how to play first. He should be benched.”

“That’s enough. I saw the play, Logan; it was clean. Shitty throw from Balmsy, but that’s about it.”

“He could have moved. He could have cleared the bag. He knew I’d run hard. He wanted to hurt me.”

“Accidents happen. Go get your ankle looked at,” he said, but Logan didn’t move. “Now!” Coach yelled, and a couple of guys scrambled to help him hobble off the field.

I took a few steps toward Mac, who looked visibly distraught before letting him know it would be okay. “No one blames you.”

“It was a fair play,” Chance added, his catcher’s helmet fisted in his hand.

“Thanks, guys,” Mac said, but he didn’t look or sound convinced.

“Get back to your positions,” Coach hollered before waving a finger in my direction. Without another word, I hustled over as he reached for my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “Everything okay, Anders?”

I couldn’t tell Coach that Logan and I were having girl issues. He had no tolerance for that kind of shit and had told us on numerous occasions to keep our personal lives off the ball field.

I told him the only truth that mattered, the only truth he’d care about, “Logan’s pissed I got my swing back.”

Coach Jackson nodded and let out some sort of grunt. “He should be more pissed that his sucks.”

I knew better than to respond or say anything disparaging about a teammate, but I couldn’t believe Coach had just said that to me.

“You’re a leader on this team, Cole. They look up to you. Don’t let me down.”

He gave my back a pat, a signal that our conversation