151 Days (19 page)

He looked at Coach Gunn and chuckled. “You were right” was all he said.

“I usually am,” Gunn said back.

“And your game?” Frank asked me, and I could tell this was another test.

“I fell for the pitcher’s curve in the first, but I had it by my second time at bat. And there was no way I could have got that homer in the eighth off a fresh pitcher.” I had a much longer list of what I had done wrong, but I was pretty sure that was all someone could see from the stands.

“You almost ate dirt rounding third in the fifth,” he commented arching an eyebrow.

Fuck
.

“Yeah, I was looking to see if Bart was going to make second and lost my footing.” Damn, was this guy watching me the whole game?

“Fair enough,” he said, looking back at the iPad. “You know what your best moment of the night was?”

“The homer in the eighth?” I guessed.

He shook his head. “No, you had the game won by then. It was this.” He turned the iPad around, and sure enough, it was a video of the game. It was a paused image of me standing at the dugout, watching Josh get ready to go to bat. I remember the moment because it was when I told him that the pitcher was losing his arm, and he should take a step back from the plate so when he tried his fastball, Josh could tee off on it. From the third baseline, it wasn’t easy to tell what I was saying, but somehow this guy had figured it out, which was freaking weird. “You told him how to hit it, didn’t you?”

“Josh is a good player,” I said neutrally.

“Didn’t say he wasn’t, but he crowds the plate, and every pitch before that moment, he struck out. You told him how to hit it, didn’t you?”

“I just gave him a pointer.”

He laughed and looked at Gunn. “I know guys who would have claimed he taught the other guy how to walk and talk, much less hit the ball.” He looked at me. “The second Josh hit that ball, the pitcher knew he was tired, and from that moment on, he was already beaten. You broke his confidence a good two or three innings before he would have on his own.” He closed the video. “That changed the game.”

“Josh hit the ball by himself,” I added quickly, not wanting to take anything away from the other guy.

“No, he was just holding the bat,” Frank said, putting the iPad in a satchel. “You hit that ball and in doing so won the game.” He stood up and put his hand out to Coach Gunn. “Tell me he is just being modest.”

Gunn shook it back. “Nope. That’s pure Greymark there.”

Frank patted his windbreaker for something as he told me, “Well, Brad, you played a good game, and you’re right. The other team gave up too quickly, which allowed you guys to take it from them. And I agree they could have gotten lucky and caught up with you, but I doubt they could have beaten you.”

“Thank you?” I said, confused.

He checked his pants pockets and nodded in response to my words. “Wasn’t a compliment, just the truth, but you’re welcome. Dammit, I swear I brought my cards.”

I looked at Coach Gunn, who just shook his head slightly and gave me a “just wait it out” look. So I said nothing and just stood there.

“You’re good,” Frank said, putting his satchel down on the bench. “With some work, maybe great, but I’m not sure yet.” I opened my mouth to respond, but Gunn put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “But I am sure of one thing.” He unzipped his windbreaker, and the dark-red polo wasn’t dark red at all. It was maroon.

Aggie maroon.

As in Texas A&M.

As in the only college I really wanted to play for.

Frank pulled out a card and handed it over to me. It had an A&M symbol in the middle with his name on it. Under that was Baseball Recruitment Agent. “Keep up the work, don’t let the streak shake you, and if anyone else comes to you before we do about college, call me first.”

I just took the card and held it in shock. I am pretty sure this would be the same way I’d react if someone had handed me a golden ticket from Willy Wonka.

“Thanks again for the heads-up, Coach. Good luck on the season.” He picked up his satchel and walked off, leaving me and Coach Gunn standing there, silent.

Gunn didn’t say anything for a while before he shook his head and began to walk toward the locker room. “If you’re not on the bus when we’re ready, I will leave you here.”

I waited until he was at the dugout before I jumped up and screamed as loud as I could. I even threw my cap up in the air for effect. It was easily one of the happiest moments of my life.

So, of course, there was no way it could last.

I
T
WAS
almost midnight by the time the bus pulled in to the parking lot.

Most everyone had nodded off after about the half hour of celebratory bragging that seemed to follow every win. Once things had gotten quiet, I tried to call Kyle but got his voice mail. I left him a message and then waited for a reply. After thirty minutes of that, I tried calling again. Finally I tried texting him, asking where he was. About five minutes later, I got back a message.

WE NEED TO TALK WHEN YOU GET BACK.

No matter how happy I had been seconds before, it was nothing in comparison to how worried I was now.

I have always been a nervous worrier. From the day I could talk, I always thought I was in some kind of trouble with someone. At first, even though I had done nothing to think that, I would be petrified that I had screwed up somehow and was going to get punished for it. I never knew what would set my dad off, and my mom usually only cared when she could use it as a weapon against him.

I’m glad things aren’t like that now, but the effects still lingered.

By the time I hit junior high, I had given up trying to do the right thing. If I was going to get in trouble no matter what I did, I might as well do something to earn it. And though I covered it with a smirk and a nonchalant attitude, my stomach was still a wreck leading up to the moment I got caught.

So even though I couldn’t figure out what might have happened, I was too upset to sleep as we hurtled toward home. Part of me wanted to get there and find out what was wrong; the other part wished we’d never get back to Foster.

The bus parked outside the locker room, and Coach Gunn told us we had played a good game. That was high praise coming from the man, who began walking our equipment into the building with the assistant coaches. I shouldered my bag and headed to my car, wondering if I was supposed to go over to Kyle’s house or try to call again.

I was so preoccupied I didn’t even notice him by the driver-side door, waiting.

Now, I had seen Kyle upset before. I had seen him indignant, defiant, and once, outraged. But until this moment, I hadn’t even caught on that I had never seen him truly angry. At least, not at me. His arms were crossed, and he glared at me like I had killed his cat or something.

“Hey,” I said, surprised to see him. “What are you doing out here so late?”

He came off the car and began waving his finger at me as he asked, “Did you tell Jennifer about our sex life?”

My mouth moved way faster than my brain. “No!”

As I said it, I knew it was the wrong thing.

“So you didn’t tell her you disliked having sex with me?” The tone of his voice was just different tones of rage and hurt.

“I didn’t say I disliked it,” I countered with.

“So then you
did
talk to her about our sex life?” he asked again.

Stupid mouth.

“I was just telling her that—” I began to explain.

“Why would you tell her anything?” he roared, cutting me off. “What we do in the bedroom is between us only. Why would you think that was okay? Wait, let me guess. You didn’t think.” His face was red, and he looked like he was about to cry.

I know how he felt.

“Do you know how embarrassed I was?” he asked, looking like he was fighting the urge to hit me. “How horrible it is to find out your boyfriend doesn’t like sex with you from someone else?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it!” I broke in with. “I just said I was sore.”

“
Why would you say that to her
?” His voice echoed across the parking lot.

I looked over and saw a few of the guys looking at us as they got into their cars.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” I asked him quietly.

“Why? You don’t want them to know?” he screamed at me. “You would hate to have your private business told to others without your permission?” I saw him look over at the other guys, and I could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Please don’t,” I implored him. “I know I fucked up, Kyle, but please… don’t do this.”

He looked back at me, and I could see the tears rolling down his face. “You know, that was exactly what I was thinking when Jennifer started to tell me. Please don’t do this.”

He took off his ring and tossed it to me. I caught it as my body went numb with shock.

“Well, now you don’t have to be sore at all.” He turned around and walked away.

It was the second time this ring had been given back to me. And as with the first time, it was all my fault.

I
NSTEAD
OF
home, I drove to Jennifer’s house.

I was in luck because her dad’s cruiser wasn’t in the driveway, which meant he was working. I say I was lucky because I was so pissed right now that even if he was there I might have pounded on the door, and most likely he would have just shot me. I stormed up the walk and raised my hand to knock when the door opened.

She stood there with puffy eyes, obviously crying herself.

“I’m a horrible bitch and don’t know when to keep my mouth shut and fucked it up for you.” She walked back into the house. “If you have anything you want to add to that, come in.”

Turns out I did.

“How could you?” I roared, slamming the door. “How could you even bring it up to him?”

She spun around and yelled back. “I thought you had talked to him.” She paused and took a breath. “By the time I realized you hadn’t, it was too late. I didn’t think he would get that crazy.”

“He’s crazy,” I said back. “I told you he was crazy. In fact, you told me before I left not to say anything because he was crazy.”

She swallowed a sob. “I know, and I fucked up.” She grabbed a tissue and wiped her nose. “How bad is it?”

I reached in my pocket and pulled out my ring. “The only thing missing was a bucket of Coke dumped over my head.”

Her eyes were wide as she realized we had broken up.

“I can fix this,” she said urgently. “We can fix this.”

I collapsed into a chair and sighed. “I hope you have a plan because minus a time machine, I don’t see how.

T
HE
NEXT
day was Friday, which meant if I didn’t do something to change Kyle’s mind now, I would be stuck with him ignoring me the whole weekend.

I sat on the edge of my bed and had a feeling of déjà vu. It took me a while to realize this was how I felt the first day Kyle and I were supposed to go back to school after the kiss. My normal routine of picking up Jennifer and hanging out before class was gone, and I’d had no idea what to do. Now my routine of picking up Kyle and spending the morning with him was gone, and I felt miserable. If I had slept, I didn’t remember it. All I could think of were ways to get Kyle back somehow.

The clock moved closer and closer to eight, and I knew time was running out.

I drove to school, my mind forcing my heart not to drive to Kyle’s and beg him to take me back. He was upset, and me trying to change his mind about that was just going to piss him off more. I knew from experience he needed time to decompress and let his logic work through his emotions before I could even try to apologize and have it mean something.

I parked and walked toward the music hall steps, wondering if I was allowed to sit there anymore. I had no idea what the protocol for this was. I suppose I could go eat with a few guys from the team, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to sit on the steps and laugh with my friends. My eyes began to sting as I walked toward the quad. I was terrified to see what happened next.

The steps were empty.

I was more depressed by that than I would have been if Kyle had ordered me to go away. I walked over to the steps and sat down with a sigh. It felt like the gravity had been increased by like 1,000 percent, and just standing was too much effort. I looked around and watched people go through their morning routine like I was a ghost. No one looked at me. No one talked to me. It was as if I wasn’t even there.

“Is this what it was like for him?” I asked myself out loud.

“Talking to yourself is a sure sign you’re crazy,” Jennifer said, sitting down next to me. I looked over at her, and she shook her head at me. “He isn’t coming to school today. He texted me so I wouldn’t worry.”

“What if I can’t fix it?” I asked her, the tears rolling down my face.

She didn’t have an answer and let me cry on her shoulder.

I
T
WAS
the longest weekend of my life.

Normally a weekend that lasted longer than two days would be a blessing. Without Kyle, time seemed to just crawl, and the world was just a series of muted colors that I couldn’t care less about. By Sunday I was so bored I actually cut the grass without being asked just so I’d have something to do. Jennifer had said she’d tried talking to him, but he avoided the topic entirely so she’d let it drop.

Sunday night my mom knocked on my door.

“You still up?” she asked me.

I paused the movie I was watching. “Yeah, just finishing this up.”

She came in and sat on the edge of my bed. “So, something is wrong.” It wasn’t a question.

“I screwed it up with Kyle,” I told her, trying not to get drowned as the emotions came rushing back.

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Well, I know something had to be up because you didn’t mention this.” She held up an envelope.

“What’s that?” I asked her, confused.

She told me, and my world stopped moving.