Stealing Bases (17 page)

thirty-eight

My dad stands in my doorway, about to leave my room, when he stops and says, “I got so caught up with our talk that I almost forgot to tell you: Missy’s outside waiting for you.”

What? Missy?
I thought she dropped me like last fall’s blazer trend.
Just like everyone else.

“Do you want me to send her in?”

“Sure,” I say. My stomach drops as my dad walks out of the room.
What if she’s only here to reprimand me?
After the chat with my dad, I’m finally feeling a little bit better. I don’t think I can take any more criticism.

As I’m thinking this, I realize that I’m still in the gown my mom sent over. Quickly, I slink out of it, shove it back into the garment bag it came in, and throw on a pair of B-Dub sweats and an ASA tee.

A moment later, Missy walks in. The first thing she does is look around the room. I can see that she’s thinking about how tiny it is.

She doesn’t say anything.

“So . . .” I begin. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here,” she says, running her hand along my dresser. “I couldn’t not come to talk to you, could I?” She stops when she notices the same photo my dad pointed to earlier. “We’ve been best friends for years, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, but that was before you got yourself a new best friend.” I look over at the Marc Jacobs garment bag, now hanging awkwardly in my closet, and think about what should have been.

“First off, you know Hannah is
not
my new BFF. Secondly, I figured, Kylie’s one pissed off girly tonight. Understandable after everything you’ve been through.”

“I’m surprised you’re not taking Amber’s side. Isn’t that what the whole school is doing?”

“Ky, I don’t know if you spilled to the
Sand Dollar
or not. But God knows, I’m no saint. So who am I to judge?” She sits on the edge of my bed.

I turn to face her. “You mean that?”

“Do you even have to ask?” She smiles mischievously. “But if you wanna tell me what
really
happened . . .”

“Nah, I’ll let the mysterious source remain anonymous.”

“Suit yourself.” Missy sighs. “But you know, I’ve been thinking. I’ve been working with Hannah for like two months and I know more about her than I’ve ever known about you.” Missy lies on her stomach, resting her chin against the back of her hands. “And we’ve been best friends since birth.”

I roll my eyes. “If you think telling me about your new BFF is really helping me, you might want to consider another strategy.”

“Ky, how many times do I have to tell you? Yeah, there’s a lot more to Hannah than I thought. But she’s not my best friend. You are.”

“So then why have you been spending
all
of your time with her lately? And why is she the only one you ever talk about?”

“Because I
need
her.”

“No one needs Hannah.”

“I hate to admit it, but
I
do. She’s more talented than me, and if I want to stand out when I apply to college, she’s really my only hope.”

“Fine, whatever. But it doesn’t seem like you’re just using her anymore. It seems like you two are actually friends.”

“I never thought I’d say this a few months ago, but yeah, we are.”

“So then I’m right.” I cross my arms.

“Ky, she’s a friend, yeah. But . . .” Missy pauses. “She’s not you.”

“You mean that?”

“Duh. Of course I do!” She bolts upright and throws her hands up in the air. “But seriously, Kylie,
you’re
the one who usually shuts
me
out. I didn’t even know about your parents’ divorce until my mom told me. And then I didn’t find out about your moving to Zachary’s guesthouse until the night of the party. Who doesn’t tell their best friend that kind of stuff?” She takes a deep breath. “So are you going to tell me what else is going on?”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“How about we start with your favorite topic: your mom. Is she permanently in New York now?”

“I don’t even know. She said it was only temporary, but I haven’t seen her since Christmas. And apparently she didn’t even care that my dad just sold our old house.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. Just—”

Missy interjects. “So does that mean you’ll be leaving
casa de Murph
?”

“Yup. My dad hopes to move somewhere further inland where there will probably be solar panels and a giant compost pile in the backyard.”

“Crazy.”

“I know. But what’s even crazier is that my mom never calls me back, so I haven’t even gotten to talk to her about it.”

“When was the last time you guys spoke?”

“Let’s see . . . There was the time she canceled our shopping trip via text. And then today I got a prom dress from her in the mail.”

“Hold on a sec. That’s good, isn’t it? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Sort of. But it was more about something for us to do together, you know?” I walk over to my dresser and pick up the discarded card. I quickly glance at it one more time and then hand it over to Missy. “And the way she worded this card—it’s like the only thing she cares about besides work is my being named prom princess.”

Missy scans the card. “Well, she definitely still loves you.”

“Maybe.” I walk over toward my window and peek out the blinds. Zoe and Zachary are playing a pickup game of basketball in their backyard court.

A bolt of lightning rips through my stomach.

Missy stands next to me. “You really can’t escape Murph, can you? No wonder you’ve been freaking out.”

I shut the blinds. “I’ve been freaking out about Zachary because I didn’t want to believe that he changed.”

Missy turns toward me. “I’m sorry—you really have been dealing with a lot of that lately.” She pauses. “Change, I mean.”

“No kidding.”

Missy pushes out her lip-glossed bottom lip. “Aww . . . but that’s exactly why you should’ve told me about everything! I could’ve helped.”

“Miss, it’s humiliating enough to be in my situation without all of Beachwood knowing.”

“I would never tell anyone, Ky.” Missy places her hand on my shoulder. “I can’t believe you don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust anyone right now.”

“You trust Zach. . . .”

“I
did
trust him. But that’s different. He wouldn’t talk about me. Or at least there was a time when he wouldn’t have . . . ”

“Yeah, he might not talk about you, but he’ll rip your heart out and stomp on it,” she says, pulling me down to the hardwood floor. We both sit cross-legged, our knees touching. “You know sometimes when you think people are talking about you to be mean, they’re really just worried about you.”

“Easy for you to say. Your life isn’t falling apart.” I stare at my painted toenails.

“Yeah, I’m really lucky that things in my life are pretty good right now, but—”

I cut her off. “Which is exactly why—”

She does the same to me. “Ky, let me finish.” She takes a deep breath. “I meant what I said—there are people out there who want to help you, but you just turn away.”

“Even if you’re right, and I’m not saying that you are, all of that was before the article hit.”

“Come on, Ky. Everyone is pretty used to your Murph madness. I’m sure they’ll find a way to get over it.”

“I doubt it. Everyone hates me. Especially my teammates.”

“They won’t forever.”

I roll my eyes. “Have you been hanging out with my dad?”

“Nah, I’m not
that
good of a friend.” Missy giggles. “But seriously, even if you were the source—and like I said, I don’t care if you are—you just have to find a way to make it up to people.”

I push myself off the ground and walk over to my closet, grabbing hold of the Marc Jacobs garment bag. “Sometimes that doesn’t work.”

Missy stands up and maneuvers her way around my bed to stand next to me. “Yeah, sometimes it doesn’t. But you’re Kylie Collins. You have to try.”

Missy pulls the garment bag from my grasp and lays it out on my bed. “So this is the dress your mom sent you, huh?” She unzips the bag and brushes her fingers against the soft material. Then she picks it up by the hanger and gently twists the dress to admire the detailed back.

Satisfied, Missy places the dress back inside the garment bag. “So your mom mailed you the dress you were supposed to pick out with her. . . . ”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not even going to prom now anyway.”

“Uh, hello? Yes you are. You can’t bail on me now.”

“It’s not you that I’m bailing on. It’s my life.”

“How about instead of doing that, you try an easy fix.” She walks over to my bag and pulls out my cell phone. Then she wraps her arms around me in a big hug. When she pulls away, she places the phone into my hand and says, “You know what to do to make this right.” Then she leaves.

For a split second, I stare at the phone in my hand. Then I make my decision.

thirty-nine

After pre-calc the next day, the hallway is abuzz with prom chatter as I walk toward the locker room to dress for our final game before the big Desert Invitational tournament. I adjust the strap of my softball bag and spot Jessica and Abby staring at a copy of the
Sand Dollar
.

Here it goes.

“Hey.” Taylor steps in front of me, holding a copy of the newspaper. She hands it to me. “Good stuff,” she says, beaming at me.

I look down. The headline, COLLINS COMES FORWARD, stares back at me.

Taylor continues. “At first, I thought you were blowing your cover just to trash Amber some more. But then when I read the article, I was shocked.”

“You were?”

“Yeah! But then again, I remembered our talk in the locker room last season. I always knew you had it in you.”

I hand the newspaper back to Taylor and the edges of my mouth break into a smile.

“No, you keep it,” she says, holding up her hand.

My smile grows wider as Taylor rejoins Abby and Jessica. Abby gives me the thumbs-up.

I wave to her and walk into an unused classroom. Then I spread the newspaper out on a desk and read the article.

Okay, not so bad . . . It could have been worse.

I crumple the paper and am about to throw it—and hopefully this entire mess—into the garbage can when I see a note in the bottom right-hand column.

So Rob Hamilton is in as much trouble as me . . . . There is some justice in the universe.

Convinced that I’ve read enough, I drop the newspaper into the trash and pick up my softball bag. I walk back into the hallway, about to resume my trek to the locker room, when Coach Kate pokes out her head from her office. “Kylie, we need to see you for a second.”

Great. Here we go again.

I let out a deep breath and step in Coach Kate’s office, ready to receive my punishment.

forty

Although Coach Kate and Martie were a little more understanding about my behavior after I spilled my guts, I’ve officially been benched now that Sophia is back at school. Can’t say that I disagree with their verdict.

“Abby’s hurt, Coach!” Phoenix yells, just before the third inning of our away game against Curtis High.

I watch in horror as the team surrounds Abby at second. Immediately, the trainers sprint to the outfield, their first aid bags in hand.

In that moment, I cease to care whether anyone’s still angry at me. It doesn’t even matter that tomorrow is the Desert Invitational. Abby—Zoe’s best friend—is hurt. I jump off the bench and dash toward second base.

“What happened?” I ask. I spot Abby laid out on the orange dirt, grabbing her knee. Zoe bends over her, holding her hand.

“Abs was moving hard to cover second, but her foot got caught and she fell,” Nyla recounts.

“Hope it’s not her ACL,” Phoenix says.

“That’s horrible,” Amber adds, peering over the group.

Abby scrunches her face as the trainers begin to work on her knee.

“Ohmigod, I hope she’s okay,” Emily says.

I call out to Abby, “We’re here for you, Abs!”

She grimaces.

One trainer gently presses against the injury, and Abby cries out.

“Give her air!” the trainer shouts.

About three minutes later, an ambulance pulls into the complex, swings around, and backs up onto the side of the field. Two medics pile out and rush a gurney onto the field. They hoist Abby up and wheel her into the ambulance. She holds out her hand, clinging to Zoe.

Zoe looks at Abby and then back at the team. And then, all of a sudden, it’s like she has an epiphany. “She’s not going to the hospital without me!” she announces.

Coach Kate turns to Emily. “Be honest with me. Has your wrist healed enough for you to play?”

Emily nods her head yes.

“Okay, then, I’ll reinstate you as catcher,” Coach replies. Coach motions for one of the trainers to quickly examine her.

“So that means I’m free to go?” Zoe asks.

Coach Kate shrugs. Clearly, she’s had enough.

Chloe rushes forward to Coach Kate. “Forget about catcher. Who’s going to play second?” she asks, scanning our remaining teammates.

“Danielle, you’re in.” Coach motions to second base. Instantly, Danielle’s usual swagger is replaced by a look of panic. She’s barely seen a second of playing time all season.

I hang my head and drift back toward my spot on the bench.

After today’s meeting, Kibbles is more likely to play second than me.

“Poor Abby,” a voice says. I turn to my left and see that Amber is sitting next to me on the bench. (Coach can’t reinstate her until after tonight’s official CHSAA hearing. So,
Sophia
of all people is pitching.)

“Yeah, I know, it’s terrible,” I reply, shocked that Amber is talking to me. “I can’t get over all the injuries we’ve had this season.”

“I know! First Emily and now Abby,” Amber says.

“At least Emily is feeling better.” I nod to Emily at home plate.

“Yeah, but Abby’s never gonna get to play at tomorrow’s games.” Amber shakes her head.

“Well, hopefully you will.” I attempt to be cheerful.

“Yeah, I think it’ll be okay . . . . ” Amber trails off. “The CHSAA really doesn’t have anything to hold against me.” She pauses.

“Listen, Amber. I’m so sorry that I said those things about you.”

“Why did you?” Amber asks, confusion written on her face. “I thought we were friends.”

“I shouldn’t have. But I was just so envious.”

“You were envious . . . of me?” Amber’s expression looks dubious.

“Yeah, of course.” I shrug.

“But you’re Kylie Collins, Beachwood Academy superstar.”

“I was ‘Kylie Collins.’ And you’re the starting pitcher.”

“I thought that stuff didn’t bother you. We’ve talked since the roster was announced and everything seemed okay.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What was I gonna say? That I’m desperate to go to UCLA? That I wanted my spot back?”

Amber doesn’t say anything in response.

“It’s not like you would have given it to me.”

Amber cocks her head to the side, looking more thoughtful than I’ve ever seen her. “No. But it would’ve been good to know.”

I pause. “I’ve been hearing a lot of that lately.”

“What?”

“That I should be honest with people about what I’m feeling. That I shouldn’t keep everything inside.” Fire burns in my stomach. “That’s why I went to the paper with the retraction. I couldn’t let the lie go on.”

“Thanks for that,” Amber says.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I say. “I was wrong to embarrass you in the first place. And I should never have tried to manipulate the situation. It was the least I could do.”

“But I know what it must have looked like—with Zach at the party. Not that anything happened . . . ”

“I know that now. And honestly, I should have realized it then. You’re not that type of person.”

“No, I’m not.”

We both stop talking as the opposing team scores another run. A collective sigh streams forth from the Beachwood fans.

I break the silence. “Amber, I never would have said this before all this crazy stuff happened, but can we be friends?”

Amber gives me a squeeze. “Of course! That’s all I ever wanted for us.”

I nod in Danielle’s direction. “Do you think she’ll allow it?”

“Uh . . . she’ll get over it eventually.” Amber giggles.

“Okay, so now that we know I’m safe from Danielle, I have to tell you something.”

“Umm . . . okay.”

“My mom lives in New York,” I spill.

“What?” Amber obviously has no idea what I’m talking about.

“My mom left us. Me and my dad.” I let out a deep breath after hearing the truth.

No more saying she works in New York. She left us. Plain and simple.

“Oh my God.” Amber’s eyes fill with concern. “I’m so sorry.”

Feeling a lump in my throat, I turn my attention toward the field. “I’m okay. I just wanted you to know. That’s all.”

I feel Amber’s hand pat my back. Although my first reaction is to move away, I stay put.

“So that’s why you clammed up when I told you about my parents’ divorce?” she asks, her hand still on my back.

I nod.

Another opposing player crosses the plate.

“Come on, girls. Smart choices!” Coach Kate yells.

“I told Coach Kate and Martie about that at our meeting today. After they saw my retraction, they could’ve suspended me from the team. But I think they appreciated hearing about why I’ve been so . . . off.”

“That totally makes sense!” Amber replies.

“Honestly, I’m lucky I’m even on the bench today. Coach Kate had fair grounds for throwing me off the team.”

Amber’s mouth opens like a nutcracker. “But they never would have done that! You made a mistake.”

“Yeah, and it’s one I’ll always regret.”

“Cheer up! You’re on prom court, remember?”

“No, actually, I’m not. I had to step away.”

Amber gasps. “The prom court and softball? That’s horrible. You poor thing.”

“There are worse things . . .” I say, gazing out toward home plate as the opposing team scores another run.

Amber’s bottom lip juts out. “Please tell me you’re still going to the prom.”

“No, not this year,” I say, blinking as tears form in my eyes. “But it’s not just because of prom court. With the whole Zachary thing, I’d already decided that I didn’t want to go.”

Crack.
An opposing player sends the ball sailing over the left field.

Coach Kate throws her clipboard on the grass in frustration.

Amber moves her hand from my back to my arm. “But at least you still came close. You know, with the court and everything. No one can take that away from you.” She beams. “I’ve always wanted to be prom princess. And you almost did it.”

I look at Amber. “Well, if anyone deserves to be prom princess, it’s you.”

Her face lights up. “Aww, Ky. You’re the best.”

I wouldn’t go that far.