by R.S. Grey
It was a bright, warm day for February and I regretted not bringing a pair of glasses as I walked up the metal ramp to the bleachers. Texas didn't do spring very well. Just like me.
I’d barely breached the top of the ramp when I heard someone yell out for me.
“Lilah!”
I turned my head to follow the sound and found Kimberly sitting in the middle of a group of girls all wearing matching bright red, sparkly shirts with the words “Diamond Girls” printed across them. I hadn’t realized that Kimberly would be at the game and I felt a mixture of relief and distress as I started to slowly walk toward her.
The other Diamond Girls watched me as I ascended the stairs toward them. As I reached the group, Kimberly stood and scooted out to greet me. Everyone shoved to the side, filling in her spot and opening up two new spots near the aisle.
“Hey!” she said, wrapping me in a hug that felt awkward and unexpected, but I hugged her back nonetheless. Kimberly was a hugger, and I was not. “Chase told me you might be here, but I wasn't sure if you'd make it.”
I hadn’t told him I’d be there. In another life—a more realistic life—I’d be lounging in bed, reading away my Saturday afternoon.
Before I could reply, Kimberly spoke up again. “Do you want to sit with us? We have room and it'd be fun to catch up.” Her eyes twinkled with sincere kindness and I couldn't help but feel relief that she didn't hate me after I’d moved away without so much as a goodbye.
“Sure, yeah,” I said as we both sat down and got situated on the cold metal bleachers. A few of the girls in the group waved and smiled at me. It seemed that as long as Kimberly approved of me sitting there, they weren't going to question it.
While we waited for the scrimmage to start, I studied their shirts up close and realized that each girl had a different player's last name and number on her back like a sports jersey. I shifted and tilted back to confirm my speculation. Kimberly's had “03-Matthews” on the back. She was Chase’s “Diamond Girl”.
Of course she was.
Why does that make my stomach hurt?
“So has it been hard living with Chase?” she asked with a gentle smile. Her blonde hair was hanging loose around her face, framing her cute features.
“Umm, it hasn't been too bad,” I responded lamely. I wasn't sure where she and Chase stood and I wasn't about to divulge the fact that in the last two weeks he’d enjoyed walking in his towel back to his room after every one of his showers. It was slowly driving me insane.
“I can't imagine living with a boy,” she said, almost wistfully. “Uh, I mean because they can be slobs,” she recovered, scrunching her nose.
I shrugged. “Chase is good about cleaning up after himself.”
“Ah, speaking of your roomie, there he is,” she said, pointing out toward the field.
Chase was warming up on the pitcher’s mound. He filled out the gray uniform so that the pants were tight around his thighs and legs, and the top stretched across his broad shoulders and trim waist. He rocked back on his left foot, planted his right against the white rubber strip, then coiled and uncoiled his body like a spring. His fastball made a crisp popping sound when it sunk into the catcher’s mitt. Once, twice, three times he repeated the motions and I watched, completely enraptured by his confidence on the mound. His power and precision were amazing to behold, and I cursed myself for missing so many of his games.
“He's one of the best pitchers in the state. He might get drafted for the big leagues, but if not, he’ll definitely play college ball,” Kimberly said, pulling me out of my haze.
I turned to find her watching him with stars in her eyes, and I realized I’d looked just like her a moment before.
A few minutes later, I spotted my dad standing at the entrance of the dugout, leaning against the metal frame in his own version of the team’s uniform. He spit out the shell of a sunflower seed and patted Chase’s shoulder as he ran by. Whatever encouragement he’d offered, I couldn’t hear it up in the stands.
“I'll be right back,” I said to Kimberly as I hopped down the stairs toward my dad. My movement caught his eye and for a moment he let his “coach” face slip. He smiled wide and tugged his hat from his head. There was a layer of sweat collected on his tan forehead, but he wiped it off with his forearm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a few women watching his every move; I wondered how many of them wished he'd finally settle back down. I shivered at the thought. I wasn't ready for another mom figure; I was still trying to get over the first one.
When he hit the railing, I bent down so he could reach up and give me a quick, sweaty hug.
“Hi Dad.”
“Hi Lil. I'm glad you're here,” he said with a warm smile.
“Wouldn't miss a scrimmage for the world,” I joked as I stood back to my full height.
He laughed and shook his head. “Wait for me after the game. We'll go grab some pizza.”
“Okay. Good luck,” I said, starting to edge away from the railing just as Chase walked out of the dugout. His baseball cap was pulled low, blocking the light from his hazel eyes so that they were shadowed and dark. His smile slowly unpeeled as his gaze locked onto me. I could practically hear his thought: You showed up. We didn't say anything in that brief moment. The scrimmage was starting soon and he needed to stay focused, but that smile unraveled the strings around my heart, loosening their grip so that he could take hold even more. I shrugged and he smiled even wider, revealing his set of dimples before his teammates stepped out of the dugout to take the field.
He moved to stand in line and I stepped back to take my seat beside Kimberly. As each player from Blackwater was announced, his “Diamond Girl” stood and cheered with a sign that had the player's name on it. I tried to tell myself it didn't mean anything when Kimberly stood for Chase. She waved her sign wildly, causing a few pieces of glitter to fly off and land on my legs. I stared down at the gold specs as a dark, twisted feeling started to overtake my thoughts.
I’m a fraud.
Kimberly had been there watching and supporting Chase for the last two years. She made signs for him and wore his name on her shirt, and two weeks earlier I hadn’t even been on speaking terms with him.
“Sorry about all this obnoxiousness,” Kimberly laughed, setting her poster down at her feet. “It's all tradition so we kind of just go with it.”
I smiled tightly. “No, it's okay. I'm really glad Chase has you.”
She stared at me for a moment, confused, but I turned toward the field before she could speak up.
The scrimmage began as expected, and I quickly learned the Diamond Girls were a sort of quasi-cheering section for the baseball team. They had chants for every moment of the game: between innings, when the other team went up to bat, and when their designated player made a play. Sometimes they'd chant while sitting down, but most of the time they all stood to do a little cheer and the crowd would join them.
The entire time, I fidgeted in my seat, feeling so horribly out of place that I wished I could have disappeared. I tried to concentrate on the game as best as I could. Chase was playing well, striking out player after player as the innings proceeded, but the pit in my stomach still grew, demanding to be felt.
“What are you doing after the game?” Kimberly asked after she and the Diamond Girls had wrapped up one particularly loud chant. I could feel her studying me, but I kept my eyes on the field.
“Oh, um, my dad said something about getting pizza.”
I could see her smile out of the corner of my eyes. “Cool. I think we're going to go grab food with the team and then hang out somewhere after. Do you want me to text you wherever we end up?”
A normal, well-adjusted teenager would have said yes, but I didn't feel like hanging out with the Diamond Girls and the rest of the baseball team. I could picture myself sitting off to the side, feeling awkward and out of place. I appreciated her wanting to include me, but it just felt forced.
That's when I finally realize
d I didn't really fit in anywhere at my high school, not with the stoners, and not with the popular kids. My hiatus in Austin had succeeded in separating me from everyone. I was a complete loner.
“It's okay,” I told her. “I woke up really early so I'll probably crash tonight.”
Just as I finished explaining my lame excuse, my phone rang in my purse. I felt the vibration against my leg as I bent down to retrieve it. Ashley's name flashed across the screen and my gut clenched. She and I hadn't talked since the day before in the hallway.
I motioned to Kimberly that I was going to take the call and then walked down beneath the bleachers so I could talk without the noise from the crowd.
“Hey Ashley,” I answered when I'd rounded the corner behind the restrooms.
“Wow, I'm surprised you even answered. I thought you only accepted phone calls from the chosen ones these days.”
I assumed she was being icy because I hadn’t called her the day before like I’d said I would.
“Whatever.”
“What are you doing now? Want to come over to Trent’s with me?”
My stomach rolled at the idea.
“I'm at a baseball game.”
“Wait, wait. You're at the Blackwater baseball game right now? I thought you said you were going to lay low at your house this weekend?” Judgment dripped from every syllable. “Wow, I guess living with Chase really is changing you.”
Something in her tone snapped a cord within me. I had let Ashley treat me like crap for the last two weeks and I’d brushed it off. I’d never really considered her a friend anyway, but she knew nothing about my life or why I made the decisions that I did. She knew nothing about my mom's death or my family’s problems.
“I wanted to watch one of my dad's games before I graduate. You don’t get to be rude to me because of it. Y’know, I thought I needed a friend to get through high school, but I'd rather be on my own than waste my time with people that are going to judge me for every little thing I do.”
I exhaled a deep breath and realized I'd said much more than I had planned to.
“Wow, okay then, Miss Independent. Did that feel good?” she laughed.
I expected her to blow up on me or at the very least hang up, so her laughter surprised me.
“Yes.” I smiled. “It did.”
“I just wish you were coming,” she began. “I know we don't have a ton in common, but this is a tiny town and options for friends are pretty limited.”
I laughed at how blunt she was being. It was true that we were technically friends by default, but to say it out loud felt taboo.
“Let's hang out soon then. Maybe we can go see a movie,” I answered, waving a white flag.
“Sounds good. I'll talk to you later.”
I hung up the phone, feeling oddly lighter as I stepped back up toward the ramp. Clumps of people were filing down with their stadium chairs and trash in hand. The scrimmage must have ended while I was on the phone and I hadn't even realized. I fought against the flow of people to get back up to the bleachers. When I crested the top, I glanced over at the scoreboard. We'd won 14-4.
I turned toward the field. My dad was talking to the coach from the other school out on the pitcher's mound. The Blackwater team was lined up single file against the metal railing of the bleachers with the Diamond Girls lined up in front of them. Each Diamond Girl was in front of her designated player and when I saw Chase smiling up at Kimberly, I felt a punch to my gut. Kimberly bent down to talk to him over the noise of the stadium and I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do.
Watching them together scraped at every one of my insecurities. They were quite the pair, the golden boy and the diamond girl. Their children would be royalty in this tiny town and I wanted to throw up.
When the players reached up to hand each of the Diamond Girls a red rose, I started walking backward down the ramp. I couldn’t witness another second.
The moment they disappeared from my sight, the pressure in my chest lessened and I knew the right thing to do was to bow out of whatever unspoken competition was going on between Kimberly and me. Actually, to call it a competition was giving myself too much credit. I was broken; Kimberly was whole. I was selfish; Kimberly would give you the shirt off her back. She deserved to have Chase all to herself and by taking myself out of the competition, I could pretend that it didn't hurt as much as I walked away the loser.
I unlocked my phone and shot my dad a quick text.
Lilah: Let's do pizza at home instead.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lilah
I laid in bed that night staring up at the shadows dancing across the surface of my ceiling. I'd already flipped onto every side of my body a half-dozen times, but sleep proved elusive. No position, pillow, or flock of sheep made it easier to stem the flow of thoughts from my mind.
When I'd gotten home after the game, I’d ordered pizza even though I wasn't hungry. My dad and I ate it while we watched a Friends rerun and at the very end of it, he glanced over to me.
“I'm really glad you came out today, Lilah. I know it meant a lot to Chase,” he said.
I ignored the mention of Chase's name. “I came to see you, Dad. I'm proud of you, old man.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Want to work in the garden tomorrow morning?”
I wondered if he could tell I had things weighing on my mind. He would help me in the garden every now and then, but if he was asking, it meant he wanted to cheer me up.
Regardless, I nodded. “Yeah, I think the tomatoes are ready to be planted.”
After staring at the first half of another Friends episode, I went up to my room and got ready for bed. It was early, but Chase wasn't home yet and I wanted to go to sleep and pretend I didn't know he was hanging out with Kimberly.
The idea of them together hurt.
I found myself pining for everything Kimberly had, and the notion of it shocked me. Two weeks before, I’d been living in another city, and now suddenly, I wanted to be Chase's best friend again. I wanted to be his dumb Diamond Girl, and I wanted him to hand me a rose at the end of the game and smile up at me like I was his world.
Admitting that only made the hurt sear into me a little deeper, so I rolled over and stared at my blank wall, trying to find another subject, any subject, to grasp on to. The next morning my dad and I would plant some heirloom tomatoes. I concentrated on the process: tilling the dirt, adding fertilizer and fresh mulch, picking a plot with full sunlight and well-drained soil, digging a hole wide enough for the plant to fit into without it being too deep, adding a cage so the plant could hold its own weight...
A door opened in the hallway. I looked up and held my breath trying to pinpoint which door had opened: my dad’s or Chase’s. When I heard the soft rumble of game footage, I knew Chase still wasn't home.
I flipped onto my back and blew out a puff of air. My hands clenched the sheets and I willed my mind to turn off so I could get seven hours of thoughtless sleep. I blinked, then squeezed my eyes shut, then arched my neck to readjust my head on my pillow, and then finally I sat up to beat my lumpy pillow into submission.
When I'd had enough, I decided to find some NyQuil in my bathroom and see if that would knock me out.
It took a moment to adjust to the bright light when I flipped the switch on in the bathroom, but when I did, the first thing I saw was my mother's eyes staring back at me in the mirror.
Drugs had changed her, physically and emotionally. They’d aged her face, marring it with deep-set wrinkles. They’d yellowed her teeth and left the stench of death in her breath. They’d thinned her hair and tattered her fingernails. Her cheekbones had hollowed, her eyes sunk behind dark circles, but there was no changing that eye color. Her pale green eyes were in her genome, the same way they were in mine.
I leaned forward and stared into the mirror without blinking. I studied the coloring in my eyes, trying to see beneath their surface. They looked like two cut emeralds, rimmed with a deep, dark green.
I studied one and then the other, trying to find subtle traces of her, which is probably why I didn't notice Chase until he was standing right behind me. He was a blur of features and then I shifted my gaze and met his eyes in the mirror. The light hazel was a refreshing change.
“I won't turn into my mom,” I said.
“I know,” he nodded.
“I won’t become what she was,” I said, emphasizing my point.
“Then don't,” he said, swaying gently from side to side, slowly enough that I had to tilt my head to confirm that the movement was actually happening.
“Are you drunk?” I said, spinning away from his reflection to take in the real flesh and blood.
“I was on the mound,” he began, ignoring my question. “I struck out the last batter and when I looked up in the stands, you weren't there. Why weren't you there?” His eyebrows were tugged together, knit down the center of his forehead in frustration.
“I was there. I was there the whole time, but Ashley called and I couldn’t ignore her,” I explained. “By the time I came back, the game was over.”
My words didn't seem to mean anything as his demeanor stayed the same. “I wanted you to be there waiting for me,” he said.
“Kimberly was waiting for you.” The words were out before I'd even formed them in my mind.
“Lilah,” he warned with a harsh tone.
“What? I wasn't going to stand behind her in line to talk to you. I'm not a competitive person, and I know when it's time to bow out.” I was being immature, and still, I couldn't rise above it. I couldn't be the person Chase needed me to be.
“I kissed her tonight,” he said, stepping forward so that I had to take a step back. “Kimberly.”
I took another step back and the back of my thighs hit the cold sink; I had nowhere else to go.
“Is that what you want to hear?” he asked. “That I kissed her because I was drunk and pissed at you?”
“Chase, stop.”
“No,” he said, caging my body against the sink with his arms as he bent lower. His face was level with mine and I could smell the beer on his breath. I hated that he still looked so painfully handsome. I didn't want to think he was handsome; I wanted to go back to before, when no one could hurt me and I kept everyone at arm's length. Maybe I hadn’t been happy, but at least I was safe, content, constant.