Play On - Michelle Smith Page 0,16
road. “Thanks for the appetizers, Austin.”
With that, she starts down the road. As I watch those taillights disappear, I can’t stop my grin from growing.
chapter five
All right. Here’s the scenario: You’ve worked one-on-one with this girl for two days. The girl’s cool as hell, a blast to talk to, and easy to look at. (Really easy to look at.) She even gives you her number and says she’ll see you tomorrow. And POOF! She’s a no-show for nearly a week. It’s tragic, really. According to Momma, it’s not a tragedy, but a case of the stomach flu. That only makes me feel worse. What if sharing food with me did give her the plague?
I’ve kind of missed her. Okay, I’ve really missed her. I haven’t decided what level of pathetic that is yet. Because seriously—two days.
On my way to the cafeteria for lunch on Monday, I stare down at my phone. Marisa’s number is pulled up, ready to go. All it would take is a few clicks to send her a message. But for real, we’ve only worked together twice. How stalkerish is too stalkerish, especially if it’s just an “I hope you’re not dead” text?
I stop in the cafeteria’s doorway. Stare at the screen some more. Suck it up and type out a quick text.
Its Austin. Havent seen u in days. Little worried. U ok?
Good and simple. Before I chicken out, I hit Send and stuff the phone into my pocket. The cafeteria’s swamped, with all the school’s seniors and half of its juniors. I spot Jay, Brett, and Right Field Randy at our table across the room, by the back windows. After grabbing a plate of cheese fries, which I scored for free thanks to a well-timed grin for the cashier (being the star pitcher does have its perks), I weave through the obstacle course of people on my way to the table and slide onto the bench across from Jay and the others.
“That all you’re eatin’?” Eric asks, plopping down beside me. Kellen sits on his other side and tosses up a wave to the rest of us. “You’ll never make it through this afternoon. We’ll be scraping you off the field.”
Team tryouts are this afternoon, but for us, it’s basically just early practice. The new recruits take the brunt of Coach’s drills. “How about you worry about you, and I’ll worry about me,” I say.
He rolls his eyes and turns to Kellen.
“Austin,” a voice singsongs behind us. Hannah Wallace drops her huge purse onto the table and sits beside me. She grins at me with a smile perfected by years of braces as she swings her tan legs over the bench. “Hope you’re ready for your interview, because it’s time to get this show started.”
Hannah’s been the head of our school’s paper since we were sophomores. She’s the head of almost everything in this school, really. Every year, she practically tackles me when it’s time for the Spring Sports write-up. Give the girl five years, and I guarantee she’ll be camera-ready for ESPN.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I tell her.
Another girl, who’s wearing a lot less hairspray and eyeliner, sits on Hannah’s other side, quiet as a church mouse.
“Oh!” Hannah gestures to the girl. “Guys, this is Morgan. She just moved here from Alabama. She’s taking journalism this semester and I let her tag along. Y’all be nice to her.”
“What do you think we are: animals?” Jay says. “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours, pretty lady.”
Hannah’s mouth drops open. “See, this is why y’all are my favorites. You’re seriously the sweetest guys ever. I could kiss you right now.”
Jay leans across the table, his head tilted. He taps his cheek. “Put up or shut up.”
Hannah pecks his cheek, making the other guys whistle. Her smile grows even wider as she pulls out a notebook covered with cupcakes and turns to me. “Down to business. Ready?”
I shove a fry into my mouth. “Hit me.”
“First up: tryouts are this afternoon. Are you nervous?”
I slap my hand over my chest. “I’m telling you, I am just terrified. Really.”
The guys snicker as she laughs and scribbles something in her notebook. I bite into another fry as the new girl, Morgan, leans over. “Just a sec,” she says to Hannah. “You told me we were interviewing some superstar pitcher. But the team hasn’t had tryouts? So he’s not even on the team yet?”
Hannah stops scribbling. “Well, duh. Coach Taylor isn’t an idiot. Of course Austin’s on the team.