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The Perfect Game: A Young Adult Romance (Rosemont High Baseball Book 2)

Page 11

by Britney M. Mills


  “I need to ask a big favor.” She grimaced, trying to make it look like a pleading smile. As much as I didn’t want it to, my curiosity surged. She must have seen something on my face because she continued. “One of the models who signed up for the show tonight came down with the flu and won’t be able to walk. I need this show to go well so I can get the attention of the magazines and get some celebrities wearing my line. Will you fill in?”

  I started with a slow laugh, increasing the intensity and volume bit by bit. “You want your daughter to wear your clothes? The one who just sprained her ankle a few weeks ago? The one you forget about all the time?” I clamped my mouth shut, surprised I’d said anything and with such force.

  My mother’s face looked as if she’d been slapped, her skin turning a splotchy red. “I don’t forget about you. Is that really what you think?”

  “I’m not modeling for you, Mom. Your teen line is not my style.” It was the most blunt I’d been with her in months, and as much as it hurt to see her reaction, I needed to tell her that.

  “Please, just do this one thing for me, and then I’ll be at every game of yours this fall. This means a lot to me.”

  If it hadn’t been for the pleading in her voice, I might have had the courage to say no. I wanted to scream that she shouldn’t be bargaining for supporting my life, but I was too tired to care about that right then.

  “Fine.” It was the only word I could grind out between clenched teeth. Two more years. That’s all I had left to stay under their roof, and then I could be gone. I’d become a nurse and pay my own way for everything, because I wasn’t going to be manipulated to do things the rest of my life.

  Twenty

  Ben

  I hadn’t heard from Serena since I’d dropped her off at home the night before. And of course, my brain decided to play that fact over and over throughout the night, making it so I couldn’t sleep. I’d had a fun, simple date planned, and I’d screwed up even that. No wonder I struggled when it came to girls.

  Kissing her was pretty amazing, but it would’ve been better if I’d been able to focus on her instead of what a lame idiot I was for screwing things up with a little fishing hook.

  I dragged myself outside to the porch, hoping some time throwing against the targets would work out some of my frustration.

  “Benny!” Daniel called as he sped around on his bike. The helmet he wore had been loosened too much, causing the helmet to sit toward the back of his head instead of covering all of it.

  “Hey, Danny boy! How’s your day going so far?” I tried to keep my voice light. Maybe if I did that, my attitude would change.

  “It’s going great! Mom just gave me a popsicle for helping her bring in some of the vegetables, and now I’m riding my bike. I was going so fast down the road. Do you want to see?” His eyes were bright and hopeful.

  How could I say no to that? “Let’s see it,” I said with a wide smile, sitting on a chair on the porch.

  He took off down the sidewalk, disappearing past the neighbor’s hedge. Seconds later, he came zooming back, his legs going faster and faster with each circle of the pedals. The determination on his face made me chuckle, and I felt at least ten times lighter.

  The door opened, and my mom came out and sat on a chair next to me. “What are you up to today, Ben?” she asked, her eyes focused on Daniel coming up the drive.

  “I’m not really sure yet. I don’t have work or practice. It’s the first time in a while I’ve been completely free.” I thought of Serena then and how she talked about having nothing to do most days. It was such a strange feeling, like I could relax and not rush off to the next place. “I need to throw a few pitches at some point, but for now I’m open.”

  “I could use your help tonight, then. We’re supposed to help with a wedding reception, and we’re short-staffed for how many people are expected. Your father has to work late, and Mrs. Shiels is going to take Daniel for a few hours until he gets home.”

  I sighed, not ready to help with a catering job. It was something my mom had always done on the side, and I knew she needed the out sometimes, but me helping pick up plates and run errands was not something I wanted to do on a relaxed summer night.

  “Don’t you think I’ll be better off here, watching Daniel?” I could hear a bit of the pleading in my voice and hoped she’d take the hint.

  “Really, I need you there with me. There will be some new hires, and you have at least some experience with this kind of thing.” She tapped away on her phone, probably texting Barb, her best friend and co-owner.

  It had been at least a year since she’d needed my help the last time. At least it wasn’t every time there was an event. She’d slowed down a lot since before Daniel was born, and the catering company she and Barb had built from the ground up allowed them to take turns managing it, giving both women the best of both worlds—they could stay home with their kids and rotate working the events.

  My eyes turned out to the little truck in the driveway, and a thought came to me. “If I help, can we get an upgrade on my truck? I’m going to have permanent bruises on my knees from getting in the thing all the time.”

  My mom’s smile turned to a giggle, and she tried to cover her mouth. After more than a minute of laughing, she said, “Yes, we need to do something about that. I’ve been talking to your dad about getting you something a little bigger. It will probably cost more in gas, though.”

  “I don’t care about that. I don’t even care if it has rust down the sides. It would just be nice to feel comfortable driving around for more than ten minutes.”

  “You know we don’t do bribes, but you’ve definitely earned the upgrade. I told your dad when he bought it that you’d have to cram yourself into it soon enough. I think we passed that point at least six months ago.”

  I gave her a half-smile. “Why didn’t you say something back then?”

  She shrugged. “Every time I thought about it, I got distracted soon after. Mom problems.” She slid off the chair and knelt next to me, her hand on my back. “I hope you know I’m proud of you, Ben. Keep working at your goals, and you’ll achieve them. Just don’t dive in too deep where you get yourself hurt. I know throwing as many pitches as you do all the time can wear out your shoulder.”

  “I’ll be fine, Mom. I’ve got John to patch me up if I need it.”

  “Yeah, but even he can’t fix everything, and definitely not in one session.” She stood, waving Daniel down to adjust his helmet.

  The afternoon passed, and I mowed the lawn, trimming the edges like I was supposed to for one of my chores “just for living at home,” as my dad would say.

  I showered and changed, checking my phone as I got out to see if Serena had sent me a message. When the phone didn’t show any notifications, I decided to send her one. The guilt of ruining my chances with her rushed to the surface, but maybe it was still salvageable.

  Hey. I was just thinking about you. How was your day?

  I pressed send before I had a chance to erase anything, knowing I’d spend twenty minutes or more debating the right thing to say.

  As I pulled on my black slacks I kept for events like this, I laughed when I saw the bottoms reaching at least three inches above my ankles. Hurrying into my mom and dad’s room, I found her in the master bath, curling her hair. “Um, I think we have a problem. I’m just not going to be able to work tonight. I wouldn’t want your company to be criticized for their attire.”

  She turned and looked down the length of my body, chuckling when she saw the flood pants. “Har-har. You’re in luck because I figured you’d probably need some new ones at some point.” After a few steps into the master closet, she pulled out a pair identical to the ones I was wearing.

  I raised an eyebrow, knowing something wasn’t right. “When was it you found out you’d be short-staffed?” I leaned up against the doorframe to the bathroom, staring at her for an answer.

  “Well, yesterday Barb mentioned we didn’t have enough servers, so I go
t some pants when I bought the food for tonight. You were so excited about your date last night that I didn’t want to ruin anything.” She picked up her curling iron again, twisting a piece of hair around it. “Speaking of the date, how did it go…besides the cut? Serena’s a nice girl.”

  I searched her face, looking for any sign of a lie. All I saw was sincerity.

  “I messed it all up, Mom. I really like her, and I’m sure she now wonders why she went out with me in the first place.” Anxiety welled up in my chest, and I swallowed hard, the mound in my throat making it difficult.

  My mom set her curling iron back on the counter and walked over, pulling me into a hug. If I hadn’t been so down, I might have laughed as her head barely came to my shoulder.

  “Ben, it was an accident. You can’t blame yourself, and from how Serena was when y’all got here, it seemed like she was happy. I think you’re getting into your head too much again.” She dragged her thumb down the side of my face, making the knots in my stomach ease somewhat.

  A text came through, and I glanced down. Seeing Serena’s name caused my stomach to flip. “Thanks for the pants, Mom. I’ll be ready in a few.” I hurried into my room, not wanting to read the text in front of her.

  I’m all right. I have to do this thing for my mom tonight, and I’m not excited. How’s your finger?

  I sat on my bed, trying to figure out how Serena felt from the words on the phone. If she’d been let down because of the date, she wouldn’t have said so much, would she? But then there was the kiss and the look that said she meant what she said about having a good time. I just needed to avoid analyzing every little detail.

  That’s funny. I have to help my mom too. Finger is good. I’m just glad it was my glove hand. It would be hard to pitch with a sliced finger.

  That sounded awkward, but it wasn’t any different than how I’d be face to face.

  Yeah, it would be. Good luck with whatever you’re doing tonight.

  I waited for several more minutes, wondering if that was going to be the last thing she wrote me. No mention of doing something in the next few days. She’d either had a bad day or she was done with me. Considering how she talked about her parents, she was probably not too excited to spend it with her mom.

  When no other text came through, I turned the volume off and slid my phone into the front pocket of the new black pants my mom had given me. How she kept track of my size when I grew all the time, I’d never know.

  My brain was still mulling over the last text message. No promise of future plans. Maybe I needed to stop thinking about her and move on. I didn’t want to be one of those guys who held on long after the girl had moved on to a new relationship. And from what I knew of Serena, I could be labeled “the guy I went on a date with one time” by next week.

  Twenty-One

  Serena

  I wanted to bang my head repeatedly against a wall as I glanced at the clothes my mom was making me wear. Maybe some teens liked this style, but I looked like a forty-five-year-old woman. The buttoned cardigan and capris made the already warm air in the conference center like a furnace, and I was already sweating. Even the makeup girl had commented on the heat.

  I glanced at the other models dressed and in line for the fashion show to begin. My mom didn’t share much about her business with me. I knew she was trying to hit a certain market, but I wasn’t sure what market that was. Maybe business casual? I didn’t have a head for business, but I figured that niching down was probably better than trying to appease the masses.

  To look at my mother, I’d think she had more fashion sense because she was always dressed in trendy styles. Why wasn’t she going for that niche? The pastel colors we all wore made me bored just looking at them.

  The music began, and I heard Rachel Gates announcing the spring line of…something. The mic cut out at that moment. Several other designers milled around, arranging things on their models and shouting for different people to come help.

  I’d been one of my mother’s first models over five years ago when she was just dabbling in fashion design. I’d loved it then, so excited to be part of her growing business. But things changed when I started to grow out of the outfits and styles she produced. When she’d switched to old lady clothing, I wasn’t quite sure.

  The fashion show seemed to drag on, and I was glad when I finally finished showing the three pieces my mom set aside for me. Sitting outside of the large room, I slumped against the wall and rested my head back.

  “Serena?” a familiar voice called.

  I opened my eyes and saw Ben striding over, dressed in black slacks, a white shirt, and a black tie. He looked even more attractive than he had at our date the night before, with his hair combed and gelled.

  I stood and stepped forward to hug him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to do something for your mom.” I shifted to my back foot, leaving only a foot of space between us.

  He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, we’re in the big room over there for a wedding.”

  “The Carchiever wedding? I heard that was a big deal. They live just a few houses down from us. What’s your mom got you doing for it?”

  “They were short on servers, so I had to dust off my skills.” The joking tone in his voice made me smile.

  “At least you didn’t have to be a model for your mom.” I rolled my eyes to emphasize how much I disliked it.

  He reached forward and touched my arm, sending tingles shooting throughout it. “At least she asked you to, though, right?”

  I hadn’t thought of it like that. Maybe it was a small peace offering because she’d been busy so much lately. But then I remembered she’d leveraged coming to my volleyball games with it and the feeling disappeared.

  I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his middle and resting my head on his chest. He hugged me back, and I hadn’t felt that comfortable in a long time. All the irritation melted away, and I wanted to stay like that forever.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Serena?” I heard from behind me.

  I pulled back and looked up at Ben. “Sorry, I’ve got to go help gather up all the clothes. Good luck with serving. Stay away from knives, and hooks.” I chuckled.

  It took him a few seconds to make the connection. “Again, about last night, I’m so sorry I ruined everything. I feel—”

  Placing my pointer finger over his lips, I shook my head. “It was an accident. I’m surprised it didn’t happen to me, to be honest, since I’m the graceful one between the two of us.” I laughed, and Ben joined in, although there was still a hesitancy in his expression that made me wonder what he was thinking.

  “We should do something again this week. We have another tournament this weekend, but I can hang out Thursday if you’re free.”

  I nodded, liking the hope in his face as it seemed to relax all the worry out of him. I glanced at his lips and then back up to his eyes. “I’d like that.”

  He paused for a moment and bent down, brushing his lips across mine. He broke away before I was ready and gave me another hug. “I’ve got to get back too. Go clean up and I’ll call you later.” Jogging back to the other room across from where my mom’s fashion show had taken place, he waved before disappearing through the door.

  I walked back into the dressing room, surprised at how much quieter it was now that everyone had left. The other designers had all disappeared as well, and as we collected the clothing, I was curious as to whether we’d actually worn all of it.

  “We’ve got to run this over to the warehouse before we head home.” My mom sounded and looked exhausted, something I’d never noticed before.

  “Are you happy, Mom?”

  Her head snapped up, and her eyes searched my face, trying to figure out what my question meant. “Of course I’m happy. Why do you ask?” She pushed the cart with all the garments hanging on them. Most of the shoes were on the bottom of the cart, and the ones that didn’t fit were in one of the two large totes with all the other extra th
ings needed for the show.

  I shrugged. “It just seems like you’re always working. Is this all worth it?”

  The muscle in her jaw flexed, and I knew I’d touched a nerve. For the first time in years, I hadn’t meant to.

  We made it out to the van in silence, and she loaded up the cart and all the other things before shutting the doors and turning toward me. “I used to think it was worth it. But now I don’t really know.” She bit her bottom lip, and I could tell the wheels were turning in her mind.

  “Then why do it? Why put yourself through all this? Dad makes plenty of money right now to take care of us.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to just be the trophy wife of an NFL linebacker. Maybe I like the idea of creating clothes people can feel comfortable in.” Tears were pouring down her face, and I wished I could go back and unask those questions.

  “I think you could make it, Mom. You just need to find your thing, the thing that people will buy without you killing yourself by forty.”

  We got into the van, and she used her fingertips to wipe underneath her eyes. “And give up everything I’ve been working on for the past five years? I can’t do that.”

  “I’m not saying give it up, just find one thing you’re really good at, like hair products or shoes. The full wardrobe thing isn’t working.” I stared at the road, not wanting to see the tears fall again.

  The cab fell silent, and I wished I was anywhere but there. My stomach growled long and loud, breaking up the tension somewhat.

  “We should probably get you some food. I know how you are when you’re hungry.”

  At least she knew that much about me.

  “Rena?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for that. I needed it more than you know.” She reached over and grasped my hand for several moments before she let go, merging onto the freeway in the direction of the warehouse.

 

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