“There isn’t anything to tell,” I say. “It was a bunch of guys watching baseball and girls talking about people I don’t know. Mai had Cheetos, which was probably the most exciting part of the entire night.”
“And Garrett Reeves?”
I pour juice in the glass, splashing a little on the counter. “You remember his name, huh?”
“I listened to one of your broadcasts online.”
My breath catches. “You did?”
“You two are a good team.”
I drag a finger through the juice on the counter and lick the tart orange flavor. “We are. On the air.”
“And off the air?”
I meet worried brown eyes. “Honestly, Mom. He’s a decent guy, but all he cares about is a future in baseball. I’m not going down that road. I know better.”
“I thought I did, too.” Her eyes get that unfocused, distant look. “I knew who your dad was before we met. He was the school’s star athlete and the girls were all crazy for him. But not me. I was more serious, focused on school. Then one day, I was walking back from the library during the middle of class. Your father was hanging out in the hall, ditching. I turned my nose up at that, until the minute he jogged to my classroom door and held it open. The way he looked at me…something in his eyes made me feel different. Special. My heart jumped so high in my throat, I couldn’t even say thanks.”
I shift to face her. “You never told me that before.”
“Because it sounds ridiculous. One look and I’m suddenly enamored?” Her smile is wry. “I told you we met in high school.”
“You said he invited you to a game.”
“He did. He was waiting outside the door for me when class ended. He walked with me to lunch, sat with my friends, ate half my French fries and had all of us laughing. Asked me if I’d come to the game that afternoon.”
“And he hit three home runs.”
She nods. “I was his blue Gatorade. He had to have me at every game after that or else he didn’t feel right. It was heady at first. Made me feel important and…necessary. I mistook that for love.”
I rub my toe at a spot of juice on the floor. “He never loved either one of us, did he?”
She’s quiet for a long moment. “Not the way we deserved. His heart was already too full of other things.”
She doesn’t need to say baseball.
It’s nothing I don’t already know, and it only stings a little. Barely a nick on the toughened outer wall of my heart.
“You’ll do better than I did,” she says. “You’ll find a soul mate worthy of you.”
I know I’m supposed to want a soul mate—the one guy I can’t live without. But I don’t want that. I don’t ever want to love someone that much. I want a guy who can’t live without me. Someone who loves me best.
I down the juice and set the glass in the sink. “I’d better go.”
Her nod is filled with all the other things she knows I don’t want to hear right now. “We’ll do prep around five p.m. today. That work for you?”
“Sure.” Mondays we look at the week’s schedule and put together sampler gift bags. I sling my pack over my shoulder. “I’ll be home.”
“Can we go over the website?” she adds. “I’d love to see where we’re at.”
I manage to meet her gaze for one long second. “Definitely.” When the door closes behind me, I allow my face to fall. Where we are is a very basic template because I can’t figure out how to add the features we need. I rub my stomach. Guilt is not a good mixer with orange juice. I really need to find someone to help. On the way to meet Mai, I work out a plan to visit the computer lab.
Mai is in her usual spot, but sipping from a travel mug.
“What is that?” I ask.
“Coffee.”
“You’re drinking coffee now?”
“I was up late doing the work I should have done while we were at Jason’s house.”
“You sound happy about it.”
“I am. I feel so normal. Staying up to do homework.”
It’s a sudden relief to stop worrying about my problems and shift focus to Mai.
We head toward school, moving slowly, since Mai hasn’t quite mastered drinking and walking. “I’m not sure how to say what I’m thinking,” I begin. “I don’t want to sound insensitive.”
“Since when?”
She gives me a smile, and I have to laugh. I can be pretty blunt, but so can Mai. It’s one of the things I love about our friendship. We call each other out on our bullshit, even if it can seem harsh. It gives me the courage to say what I’m thinking. “Are you serious about Anthony?”
She sips from her mug. “I’m serious about climate change. About shrinking polar ice caps and pollution in our waterways. I’m not serious about Anthony Adams.”
“Then what were you doing with your feet on his lap?”
“Trying to feel his package.”
I stumble as we hit the curb that marks the beginning of school property. The two-story brick building casts a cool shadow across the walkway. A row of droopy palm trees lines the path leading us toward the entrance and a glowing sign announcing HOME OF THE CHOLLA WILDCATS.
“I’m teasing,” she says. “We were talking. He’s funny.” A small smile plays around her mouth. I wonder if she even knows it. “And he’s nice.” She pauses and adds in a quieter voice, “I like him.”
“But he’s so different from you. What’s he going to do after graduation?”
“He’s not sure. He says that’s what your twenties are for.”
“He needs a whole decade?”
“It’s a harmless crush, Josie. I know it can never be more than that. My parents would disown me if I brought home anyone less than a Rhodes scholar. Anthony is a little fun before I graduate from high school. If I don’t do it now, what stories will I tell my test tube babies when they grow up?”
“Test tube babies?”
“I’m never going to have sex. I don’t see how I’ll have time.” She sips again and makes a face. “How do people drink this stuff on a daily basis?” She stops to dump the rest in a pile of gravel. “What about Garrett?” she asks.
“What about him?”
“Have you felt up his package?”
“I’m sure it’s small in comparison to his ego.”
After that, there’s no time for conversation because we’ve joined the masses who are in the process of unloading from the buses. This part of the walk always makes me feel like a salmon flowing upstream. Mai feels it, too, I know, and our thoughts shift into school mode.
There’s a lot of pressure when you’re special like Mai. Sometimes I’m jealous because she’s going to do something that matters and I’m going to be selling skin care. But mostly I’m proud of her. I want her to have fun, but I don’t want her to jeopardize her future over a fling.
“Killer!”
Speak of the devil.
Mai turns, and in an instant, the school pressure is gone, shaken off with one flick of her hair. Anthony isn’t as tall as Garrett, his build more on the stocky side, but he walks with that same confident swagger. His brown hair is wavy and long enough to reach the frayed collar of his tee. His chin is up as if he wants to look down on the world, but his dark caramel eyes are warm enough to rival the sun as he watches Mai. Watches her as if she’s the sun.
I’m wondering if I’m reading him right when another voice chimes in and my pulse skips.
“There’s my broadcast buddy.”
Chapter Nineteen
Garrett walks up with Cooper and Tucker. He’s wearing a white V-neck. He should look awful in white with his coloring. And a V-neck. I hate V-necks on guys.
God, he looks good.
His eyes smile into mine. My heart, which a second ago was right where it belongs, is now in my throat, choking me with an unexpected response.
Shit. I’m just like my mother.
Alarm vibrates in the pit of my stomach along with an answering chorus in my brain of No
-No-No-No-No. I scowl at Garrett. I cannot fall for this guy.
“Someone angry at their snooze button again?” he asks in a mild voice.
“Um. I’m late. I have to go.” Not smooth, not even true, but I turn, needing to get away. I told myself I was standing on the edge of quicksand—close to trouble but in no danger of falling in. Now I realize I’ve been sinking for days.
Tucker comes up beside me, and I’m flanked by him and a grinning Cooper, who have no idea that I’m in meltdown mode. “G told us you were named after Joe DiMaggio.”
“He was my grandpa’s favorite player,” Cooper adds. “I got to tell him that—he’ll like you even more on the broadcasts.”
“I hate my name,” I say.
Tucker looks shocked. “But it’s perfect for you.”
“I think she’s perfect for me,” Cooper teases.
“Sorry,” Garrett says, appearing right beside us. “She doesn’t date ballplayers.” There’s an edge to his smile and something watchful in his eyes that makes me feel too exposed.
“I’ll change her mind about that.”
“You know what they say,” I tell Cooper. “Big ego, small—”
“Josie!” Cooper places a hand over his heart. “I’m insulted. But I’m prepared to prove you wrong any—”
I interrupt. “Save it. Not interested.”
Garrett opens his mouth, and I snap, “Definitely not interested.”
There’s a tiny moment of shocked silence and I realize how harsh that sounded.
Mai’s expression says WTF?
“I’ll see you guys in a few,” Garrett says, not taking his eyes off me. “Walters and I need a minute.”
“We do not.”
Mai gives me a meaningful tilt of her eyebrows and then heads off with the others.
I fold my arms over my chest and face Garrett. I know him well enough by now to know he won’t give up until he has his minute. “What?” I say, my eyes avoiding his.
“You mad about something?”
“No.”
“Then what’s with the attitude this morning?”
“I always have attitude.”
“Come on, Walters. No bullshit.” He moves closer, smelling of soap and sun and crackling with barely suppressed energy that has my nerves crackling, too. “That’s not how we work, you and me.”
I have nothing to say to that because he’s right. And because I can’t tell him how good he looks in that V-neck and how I’m mad at myself for noticing. For liking him when I swore I wouldn’t. For wishing he was anyone but who he is. “I don’t want to be late,” I mutter.
“I’ll walk you.”
He’s still waiting for an answer, so I give him the first excuse that pops in my head. “I’m tired,” I say. “And stressed. I have a lot going on.”
“Like what?”
“Like it doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Unfortunately, my history class is only a few doors down, and I have no choice but to stop.
“Come on,” he urges in a singsong voice. “Tell the nice Mr. Reeves what’s wrong.”
“Is that how you talked to the kids in summer camp?”
“Yes,” he says. “But first I had them sit on my lap. Wanna try?”
A smile sneaks out, fighting me until there’s no way to hide it.
He smiles back as if I’ve made his day. I hate how good that makes me feel.
The halls are emptying, only a few kids hanging out by their doors for a few last minutes of freedom.
“I’m serious, Walters,” he urges. “Maybe I can help.”
“Why would you want to?”
His expression is a little surprised. “Because we’re friends.” He says it as if it’s obvious. As if it’s a done deal. As if it’s no big deal.
“That’s not part of the rules,” I say, but it sounds lame even to me.
“Is it really going to kill you to have a friend who’s a baseball player?”
“Maybe,” I mumble.
He laughs, and I start to feel a little ridiculous. I’m the one turning this into a thing and it doesn’t have to be. He’s still a library book that’s going back on the shelf in a matter of weeks. “I’m just busy,” I say. “I told you before we started that I had a lot going on. I’m in charge of designing a new website for our company and I’ve got nothing to show my mom today.”
“You can’t handle WordPress?”
I bat my eyelashes in pretend confusion. “Is that like Word, only ironed?”
His smile is crooked and adorable. “There’s that unsophisticated wit I know and love.”
I stick out my tongue. “I’ve got a basic template, but I need dropdown menus and sidebars. I can’t figure that stuff out.”
“Is that all?” He leans against the wall, bracing his weight on one hand. Not only a stupid V-neck but one that’s too tight. I can see every one of his ab muscles shift and strain against the shirt.
I’m careful to look directly in his eyes. “I also need secure ordering pages and multiple options for accepting payments.”
“I can help you do all of that.”
His muscles are forgotten in a momentary burst of hope. “You speak HTML?”
“My mom works in advertising. Half her business is developing websites.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “We can do most of it in a couple of hours. How about after school today? My house is a mile from yours. I’ll drive you home after.”
“Your house? I can’t go to your house.”
“Walters. Really? Are you afraid I’ll take advantage of you?” He’s looking down at me, all blond and tan and flashing white teeth.
My heart somersaults. “No.”
“You think you’re so irresistible I won’t be able to help myself?”
“No!”
“That if I get you in my room, I’ll lose complete control in your presence and—”
“All right!” He’s making me feel stupid. And a tiny bit hurt even if I don’t want him to like me in that way. “I think we’ve already established that you’re not my type and I’m not yours.”
“Did we?” His eyes lazily move up and down all five eight of me. An unwanted flush covers my skin everywhere his gaze touches. When our eyes lock, there’s something different…uncertain…in the way he’s studying me. “You smell good.”
I swallow. “You shouldn’t be smelling me.”
“No,” he says. “I shouldn’t be.” Then he smiles and whatever was there is gone, like a sound you’re not really sure you heard. “I’ll see you after school.”
Chapter Twenty
Garrett lives in the custom neighborhood where the houses are a little bigger and a lot older. They sit back from the street with big yards and trees that have had time to grow thick and tall. They feel settled. Permanent.
Garrett’s walkway is lined with potted flowers and fairy lights. There’s even a couch outside the front door. I make a mental note, not that we have room for a couch, but maybe a bench. An old one that’s weathered.
My love of vintage isn’t just T-shirts. We left almost everything when we moved from Florida and found most of our furniture at consignment stores. Filling our house with older things gave us a history, even if it wasn’t our own.
“Come on in,” Garrett says when he unlocks the front door. “My mom’s at work, so it’s just us.”
“Your sisters?”
“Both at ASU—they live near campus in an apartment.”
A moving shadow catches my eye. “Someone is home.”
A small gray cat saunters around the corner of the foyer, meowing loudly.
“There’s my girl.” He squats by her. She looks at me suspiciously. “This is Wild.”
“You named your cat Wild?” I squat beside him.
“Officially she’s Wildcat, named for the University of Arizona’s mascot because that was where I wanted to play college ball.”
“Oh.” I glance at him, but he’s focused on Wild. Does that mean he’s given up on the idea of p
laying?
The cat sniffs my fingers and then nudges my hand with her nose.
“Demanding,” I say, complying with a rub around her pointy ears. “My mom and I might get a cat this summer.”
“Before you go to college?”
“I’m taking online courses from ASU, so I’m going to live at home. And before you ask, yes, it’s my idea.” Wild purrs and gives me greater access to her neck. “What about you? Know where you’re going yet?”
“Not sure.” His mouth thins with frustration. He scoops Wild into his arms, standing as he rubs her belly. I stand, too. “I told you my dad wants me to come to Dallas. In May, it’ll be a year since the injury. He thinks it’s time I give up my boyish dreams and get a job.” He says the last word like it’s a disease. “He’s been pushing that since I was sixteen.”
“A job?”
“I never had time for one.” His eyes meet mine. “You know how it is. If you want to compete in baseball, you got to play summer club and pitch on travel teams. He doesn’t get that. He’s insisting I spend the summer in Dallas working in his office as an intern. In August, I’m supposed to enroll in college there and get my accounting degree.”
Wild meows in complaint as if he’s squeezed her too tight. “Sorry, girl,” he murmurs, setting her down softly.
“What does your mom think?”
“She’s backing him up.”
“Even about college? Why can’t you stay in Phoenix for that?”
His eyes shift away. “He thinks I need more structure than I’m getting here.”
My mind flashes to the math test I saw in his backpack. Just how bad are his grades? Instead I ask, “So what are you going to do?”
He starts toward the kitchen. “Still working on that. You need anything to drink?”
“I’m good.”
We pass through the kitchen and family room, and into a hallway full of photos. I slow to look—most are family pictures of him, his mom and two sisters. “Your mom never remarried?”
“Not yet. She’s dated the same guy for years. He has a daughter who’s a freshman in high school so they’re waiting until she graduates.”
“What about your dad?”
“He got married a year after the divorce. Heather is his wife. She’s okay. I have a half brother, Chase, who’s eleven now. I don’t see him very much.”
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