Out of My League - Sarah Sutton Page 0,41

of his hair were still damp, curling ever so slightly. Something was wrong, something he wasn’t telling me. But there was no way I was going to force information out of him.

I didn’t know how to make him feel better. “Are you okay?”

“Ask me a question,” Walsh murmured to the roof. “For the article. Ask me something.”

“Does Bayview High ever cheat to win?” The words came out of left field, blurting from my mouth before I even had a chance to screen them.

Walsh chuckled at that, and quickly, too. As if the idea was absolutely absurd. “I know it might seem like it, but no. We’re just that good.”

I sat in his answer for a moment, mulling it over. Was it possible that his teammates were cheating and he just didn’t know? “Do you think you’re a good fit for captain?”

Walsh turned his head and was quiet for a long time. So long that I thought I’d imagined asking the question. Blue eyes looked at me intensely, deeply, like if he looked at me hard enough, he could see into my soul. “Next question.”

“But—”

“Next question.”

I knocked my sandals together, racking my brain for something else to ask. The deep questions were pushed out of the way, answered and ignored, and I had to come up with something. “When did you know that you wanted to play baseball?”

Walsh’s lips curled into a smile, but this time it looked genuine, authentic. “My mom took me to a baseball game when I was seven. Bought me a foam finger and a baseball from one of the insanely over-priced gift shops. Ever since, I’ve been obsessed.”

There came the mention of his mother again. I couldn’t hold back this time, my curiosity getting the better of me even though this was supposed to be for the article. “You said you had a rough night. Something about your parents?”

“It’s more my mom. We just haven’t been seeing eye to eye. It’s not a big deal.”

I looked out of my window to my house, staring at the collection of dark windows and the empty front porch. His words connected with me in a way that he couldn’t have known. I considered the idea of saying “I know the feeling,” but my mouth clamped shut. It had been a while since my parents and I saw eye to eye on something.

Little voices came from the dark of the cab, hostile and echoing. You’re not good enough for Scott, not good enough for your parents. You have to force Walsh to fake date you. This article, no matter how good you think it is, won’t be enough.

A thinness took over the air, for the breaths I pulled in weren’t enough to satisfy my lungs. Don’t think like that, I willed myself, swallowing hard. It’ll be enough. You’ll be enough. They’ll see.

I didn’t even realize how firm my grip was on my leg until Walsh’s hand slipped over mine. “Hey. Where’d your mind go?”

“I’m okay.” I didn’t look at him but rather at our hands, trying to breathe through the dread that was welling in my chest. Rough patches lined the skin at the tops of his palms, callouses from how hard he gripped the baseball bat, I guessed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Anything that goes on in that head of yours matters.”

I wanted to roll my eyes at that line, shaking my head in the darkness. “I’m just thinking about the article.”

“You can be honest with me, Sophia.”

“I am being honest,” I lied.

“Just letting you know.” He gave my hand a squeeze, expression softening. “I’ve been told that I’m a good listener.”

I tried to shrug off his serious, kind words, but failed. They were already burrowing deep inside of me, nestling their home in my heart.

“Say you’ll come to the game on Sunday,” Walsh said, backtracking to that conversation. “I could play the guilt card and say you’re the only one that comes to watch me.”

“Except you’d be lying, because we both know half of the people in the bleachers are there for you. They probably even make cheesy signs.”

“Yeah, but you’re the only one I care about.” One side of his mouth tipped up, looking none too modest. “Will you make me a sign?”

“Oh, no. Nope, totally not doing that. I’m bad at signs. Besides, what would it even say? ‘He stole second base and my heart’?”

Walsh tipped his head back, giving the first genuine smile I’d seen since we left the beach. “Please do that, Sophie. I’d love you