You and Everything After (27 page)

“I don’t have a
man crush
,” I say in defense.

“Yeah,
sure
you don’t. Saying every one of his lines along with him is totally normal. Totally,” he says, laughing over his shoulder.

Damn. I do have a man crush.

“Yeah, well…shut up,” I say back, and his cackle echoes into the elevator.

Chapter 30

Cass

My bags are packed. Paige’s bags are packed. My cleats, my old knee braces, my shin guards, my ball—I packed it all. I know I have new things, but sometimes I like the way my old equipment feels. My parents and I haven’t talked about it. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m playing.

I’m about to zip the bag closed when my dad walks in, a large envelope in his hand. His focus goes right to the bright green ball I’ve managed to wedge into my suitcase, and he smiles tightly when he sees it, then nods.

“I have to play. I need it. I just…I need this,” I say to him, and inside I say
please, please, please
over and over again, praying we don’t make this a thing—that they don’t try to take this away.

“I know you do,” he says, tossing the envelope on top of my things and helping me to zip my suitcase the rest of the way. “You’re going to need those. They’re medical forms, judge endorsed, explaining your treatment, any steroid injections. There are three copies, and there are two doctors’ signatures—Peeples and one of his colleagues.”

“Dad—” I start, but my breath leaves me quickly. His warm arm wraps me from the side, and he pulls me to him tightly, kissing the top of my head. “We still worry. Just promise me one thing, if you feel something…if you feel
off…
at all? You’ll talk to someone and listen to your body. It doesn’t mean you have to quit, it just means…we modify. Can you do that?”

“I can do that,” I say, pulling both of my arms around my father’s chest and holding him tight, my cheek resting against the wool of his suit jacket. “You’re off to work?”

“Time to make the donuts,” he says. He’s been saying that to me since I was a kid, when I used to get up early just to see him before he left for the office. He kisses my head one more time, then turns to leave through the door, his hand knocking once on the frame as he passes.

My phone buzzes, and I sit at the edge of my bed to answer. It’s Rowe. I’ve texted her a few times, but we haven’t talked. I’m afraid to talk to her, afraid she’s mad that I kept this from her.

“Hey,” I answer, my heart beating fast with my nerves.

“Hey, when do you get in? I just got here. Our room…Cass,” she’s talking a million miles a minute, and I fade out for a second as she goes on, awed that our friendship is somehow just the same as it’s always been. No MS. No questions, no mention—I’m just still Cass.

“What about our room?” I ask, smiling nervously, for a different reason now.

“It’s…brown. Like…I’m sorry, but it’s caca brown. Maybe a little orange? No, it’s brown. Definitely brown. And not a cool brown, like taupe or chocolate. It’s awful, like that burnt sienna color you get in your box of crayons that you never wear down because you don’t use it, because it’s seriously the ugliest color ever made,” she says, breathless by the end of her panicked speech. “Cass…we can’t live with this. I’m so sorry, I didn’t think they had it in them.”

The laughter creeps in quickly, and soon I can’t control it, and it infects Rowe; she’s laughing on the other line just as hard. “I’m serious, Cass,” she says, practically through tears, she’s laughing so hard. “It’s hideous. I’ll go to the hardware store and start repainting so maybe when you get here, I’ll be almost done.”

“Don’t you dare,” I warn her. “We don’t give in, just like they don’t give in. I’ve got this.”

“Okay, but I’m not kidding when I say it’s ugly,” she says, and I smile, because I know the trump card, and it’s going to be awesome to throw it.

I needed Paige’s help, and I was nervous to ask at first. Our relationship was healing, but slowly. She seemed more excited at the prospect of beating Ty—so I used that in my favor, and she called a few friends to help pull things off.

We needed to time it just right, everything like clockwork from the moment our plane touched the ground. I called Rowe, and she made plans with the boys for dinner at Sally’s. We’d meet them there, so that way they could save us a table before it got too crowded. The only risk left was whether or not they left their room unlocked—their keys inside. Something they do…often.

Rowe is jumping up and down at the elevator when Paige and I get upstairs, and her smile means we’re in luck. I leave my things in the hallway, by our room, and we hand Paige all the keys she needs, and she promises that her assistants are on their way.

In exchange, I promise Paige a free bailout, no questions asked, the next time she’s a little in over her head at a party—something that hasn’t happened in a while, now that I think of it. Her lips curl at the edges, a faint smile at my promise—a baby step. And maybe just saying this to her was enough.

“I can handle this,” she says, reaching into her bag for a band to tie her hair. She pulls her jacket from her shoulders, and rests it on my suitcase, kicking her gigantic pumps off so she can work barefoot. The scene makes both Rowe and me laugh.

“What? I’m not lifting things in those,” she says, blowing her bangs up and out of her eyes. It’s funny mostly, because Paige isn’t likely lifting anything. Our suspicion is even more confirmed when we swap places with three extremely large guys on the elevator, and as the doors shut, I think I catch a glimpse of one of them lifting her in his arms.

“Do you know that guy?” Rowe asks. I’m glad she saw that too.

“No idea who he is,” I say, my eyes wishing they could see through the elevator doors as we start our decent. “Someone’s been keeping a secret.”

Whoever he is, he isn’t a jock or frat guy…or anyone I’ve seen around any of Paige’s parties. He’s way off the radar, and nothing like anyone I’d ever pair with my sister based on her tastes. I hope like hell I see him again.
 

Rowe and I somehow manage to keep our smiles in check throughout dinner—even pretending to be pissed about the brown room, about how they one-upped us…finally. And when my phone buzzes in my lap with a message from Paige that “the deed is done,” I tug my ear to signal Rowe, and her smile grows wicked.

“I almost want to sprint home,” she whispers in my ear as we wait at the front of Sally’s while Nate and Ty linger by the bar to check the score of a game.

“Play it cool,” I say, and she folds her arms and smirks at me.

“Look at you. When did you get all ballsy and good at this?” she asks. “The student has become the teacher.”

“Okay, you and Ty seriously need to stop with the
Kung Fu
thing,” I say, and Ty catches the end of it.

“You can never talk too much
Kung Fu
,” Ty says, and Rowe nods in agreement, jutting her fist forward for a pound.

“Damn straight,” she says.

“So what has my young grasshopper mastered?” His question makes me panic, but only for a second, because Rowe is
way
better at this than I am.

“Oh, you’ll find out,” she says, waggling her eyebrows, and instantly Ty assumes we’re talking sex. It’s easy to take his mind there, and Rowe is a genius for thinking of it. She didn’t really lie, because he will find out soon. He’s just going to be even more disappointed now.

We take our time getting back, as if there’s nothing to be excited about. I stop at our mailbox downstairs, and pull the sets of keys out, dropping them in my pocket before anyone can notice, and we continue to the elevator.

“Mail’s empty,” I say, winking at Rowe behind their backs.

“Well duh, we just got here. Nobody has any mail yet,” Nate says, totally going along with our plan. Ty, however, makes a face, and the second I see his eyebrow tick up, I look away; I know I won’t be able to bluff him if he looks right at me.

I have to nudge Rowe in the ribs once to get her giggles under control, and when the doors open, we step from the elevator and move toward the boys’ room.

At least, what
used
to be the boys’ room.

“I’m kind of tired. You know, I think I’m going to go to bed early. Long flight. Hope you don’t mind,” I smirk, and Ty knows instantly.

“Son of a bitch,” he says, his head shaking as he looks to his lap and bites his lip, then lets out a reluctant laugh and folds his hands together, his thumbs tapping one another because he knows. He knows!

“Oh, that’s fine,” Nate says, trying to be polite, still not caught up with the rest of us.

“Good, well…you’re going to need your keys,” I say, tossing them to him. He catches them at his chest, and then realization settles in slowly. Rowe and I push in through our
new
door, all of our things inside, as if we’d always been here.

“Good night boys,” she says, and we both blow them kisses as we close the door behind us, locking it too, just in case.

My phone buzzes about two minutes later with a text from Ty.

TY: Well played, Ninja.

ME: Enjoy your shit-brown room ;-)

TY: Oh I will.

ME: I don’t doubt it.

I think I may be more proud of this than I am of making the women’s soccer team. I fluff out the Barbie comforter and layer it with my quilt, then crawl into bed, kicking my shoes off and letting them fall to the floor. Rowe does the same.

“You know, I kinda like their room better,” she says, scooting into the deep corner of what used to be Nate’s bed with her blankets and pillows piled around her.

I smile at her, then say, “You mean
our
room.” I let myself relax, and when my phone buzzes under the blanket, I dip my head underneath to read Ty’s message privately.

TY: You know I love you, right?

ME: Yeah. I know.

TY: Good. Now watch your back…babe ;-)

My face buried deep in my sheets, I shake my head and grin from ear-to-ear, stopping short of kicking my feet and squealing because of how he makes me feel. I’ll let him get over this, and stew for a little while. Then I’ll give in and make my way to the brown room to spend the night—trading places with Nate, because that’s where I really want to be. I’ll watch my back, and he’ll probably get me with something way better than this prank eventually. But I won’t care.

I won’t care, because I love him. I’m
in
love with him. I love his funny side and his serious side. I love that he’s protective, and I love the part of him that sometimes misses baseball and won’t admit it out loud. I love the way he can talk to me with his eyes, yet never say a word with his mouth. And I love the part of him that thinks he can do anything—especially the impossible.

Tyson Preeter is my boyfriend—a real boyfriend, the kind that takes me on dates and leaves me love notes. The kind I wished for—the kind I promised myself I would have. The kind who loves me.

The kind who made me
love
me, too.

And I love him for that most of all.

Epilogue

Four months later

Ty

“Okay, so this series…it’s important,” I say, leaning over Rowe, ignoring Cass’s glare.

“She knows that, Ty,” Cass says, and I wave my hand at her, hushing her.

“I’m just making sure. This series, if we win, moves us to number one. Number. One.” I hold up one finger. Just to make my point totally clear.

Rowe leans forward, effectively ignoring me, talking to Cass. “Does he think I’m stupid?” she asks, pointing at me. “He thinks I’m stupid.”

“Yeah, I kinda think he thinks you’re stupid,” Cass jumps on the bandwagon. I pull my hat from my head and rub my face.

“Oh ha ha ha, yes, very funny ladies. Let’s cut the cutesy,” I say, and Cass punches my arm. “Oww!”

“You’re kind of crossing the line,” she says, giving me the face. The one she uses when I’m being
too Tyson,
as she likes to say.

“What was too much? Cutesy? Fine, I take back cutesy. Now focus,” I say, and now they’re both laughing at me. And I’m frustrated. “Forget it. This is no use. I’m just going to hope you don’t fuck up baseball, since you’re not taking me seriously.”

“Aw, Cass, look at that. Tysie Wysie’s making a fussy fuss,” Rowe says, and I can’t take it anymore.

“You know, I’m going to try sitting over there,” I say, pushing back from the aisle. Cass stops me though, sitting on my lap and weaving her arms around my neck, pulling my hat from my head, and putting it on hers. It looks better on her anyway. Damn, I’m easy.

“We’re just teasing you,” she says in my ear, kissing my neck, almost making me forget I’m at a baseball game. Almost.

“Yeah, well…it’s just important,” I say, this time seriously. She takes a deep breath and locks onto my eyes with hers.

“She knows.
We
know. And he’s going to be great,” she says. And with one kiss, I’m calm again.

There are scouts here for this series. We’re playing OSU. And usually it’s OSU that brings in the big teams, the serious scouts, the ones who are looking to pad rosters and fill triple-A ball clubs with talent that can be moved up sooner rather than later. But the Cardinals and the Cubs are here for someone else. They’re here for Nate Preeter. And my brother is a nervous fucking wreck.

“Sorry I’m late,” Paige says, and Cass stands up from my lap to go hug her sister. They’ve gotten closer. It’s taken months, but the effort on both of their parts has been genuine. I want this for Cass. I want her to have a sibling like I do, one that you count on and trust with everything.

“She brought him,” Cass whispers in my ear when she moves back to my lap. I look past her to see who she means. Houston is with Paige again. He’s been with her a lot. I like him. He’s a good guy, as far as I can tell from the few times we’ve hung out. Paige always says they’re
just friends
. But I don’t think that’s how Houston sees it.

“Hey man, you want to save me from all this girl talk over here? They’re determined to ruin baseball,” I say, and Cass rolls her eyes.

“He’s just being a baby,” she says.

Houston looks at Paige, whose attention is on her phone, and then looks at me with a slight shake of his head. He’s going to stay right where he is. Wait…for her to notice. I hope like hell for that poor bastard that she does.

“Excuse me, are you Cass Owens?” A skinny kid with a wrinkled notebook slides into the seat next to me, the one Rowe just left to go talk to Nate. She better not be messing up baseball.

“Yeah, I’m Cass,” she says, looking at me, like I know who he is.

“Hi, uhm…okay, well, I’m the beat reporter for the McConnell Times,” he’s nervous, and he’s dropped his pen twice in the span of a single sentence. Heaven help this kid if he ever tries to become a reporter anywhere bigger than a school with an enrollment of twenty thousand.
 

“Okay,” Cass says, waiting for him to get to the point. I’m waiting too. There’s a game about to start. Why is this not important to everyone else?

“I was wondering…would you let me ask you a few questions, maybe for a short profile, for the women’s soccer team? Since you’ve overcome so much, playing with MS and everything,” he’s getting his ground now. Unfortunately, he’s hit on that taboo topic. I feel for the kid, really.

“You know what? Yeah, sure. But we have to sit back here—they’re really into the game,” she says, shocking the hell out of me.

“You sure?” I whisper to her as she steps in front of me to follow the reporter to the last row.

“I’m absolutely sure. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, about talking about my MS. There aren’t a lot of teenagers out there who are like me, but there are some. And they need to hear what I have to say,” she says, nodding with a smile as she steps to the back, a few rows behind me.

I can still hear their interview, and even though my heart is focused on my brother and on the field, a part of it is also stuck behind me, so unbelievably proud of my little Ninja Princess.

“So, what are your thoughts on the whole Chandra scandal? Did you have any idea about her drug problem?” he asks. I listen close to this question, waiting for Cass’s response, and when I turn my head to the side, I notice that Paige is listening too. She’s looking at her phone, but nothing’s open. She’s eavesdropping.

“I had no idea. I was shocked, and it’s a big blow to our team for sure, losing her. But you know what? We’ll get through it,” Cass says, not dwelling on Chandra for long at all. While she talks, I watch Paige’s reaction, and her mouth curls up slightly to the side. And it’s more than just being proud of her sister and her ability to dance around a tough question.

“Crazy how that whole Chandra thing blew up, huh? The way those pictures found their way online?” I say, looking at Paige, calling her bluff.

“Yeah,” she says, everything about her expression disinterested, as if she couldn’t care less. But her eyes—they’re just narrowed enough, and I read her loud and clear. “Definitely...
crazy,
” she says, her lips careful with that word.

She stands up and tells Houston that she’s thirsty. She steps around him, and looks back at me one last time as she walks up the ramp. Her nod was just slight enough, not enough for anyone else to notice. But I know what she did for her sister. And I’ll keep this secret for her—because damn, I’m impressed.

We get through the National Anthem, the play-ball kid and the first pitch, and by the time Nate’s up to bat, Cass is back sitting next to me, Rowe on my other side. And they’re both crossing their fingers, holding their breath. They get it. No fussy fuss.

After he hits for a double with one RBI, I lean over to Cass and kiss her cheek. She sweeps her hair behind her ear when I do, then turns to me, her cheeks a little pink from the warm spring sun.

“What was that for?” she asks.

“Nothin’,” I shrug. “Just proud of you, I guess.”

I turn my attention back to the field, cheering loudly as my brother steals third, but Cass keeps her eyes on me. I can feel the heat of her stare, and I grab my hat from her head and tilt it to the side to block her view, because
wow
, I’m getting a little inspired by her attention.

She grabs my hat back and puts it on her head, where it really belongs, then puts her hands on my face, pulling me to her lips, stopping just short of a kiss.

“You know I love you, right?” she says, and I smile and pull her the rest of the way in until her mouth crashes into mine. I kiss her longer than I should at a baseball game, and I totally miss my brother sliding into home. I miss the next two batters too, and I don’t stop until I’m sure every single guy at the stadium has seen me kiss this girl.

This girl.

My sexy Ninja Princess.

The only girl I need to know…anywhere.

THE END