Her whole body tensed as she took them, her eyes never leaving my face.
“Anyway, I came back early to rewrite my paper. I hope I didn’t misunderstand anything you said in that.” I stepped back from the door, shoving my hands into my pockets. “See ya around, Mallory. Nice to meet you, Jason.”
He nodded, glancing between me and Mallory. I backed away until I hit the sidewalk then turned and strolled across the street to my truck. My body shook with barely controllable anger. Not just at Mallory, but at myself. I’d misread the entire situation. If I’d been at the plate, I would’ve struck out looking. Hell, I just had. I never got a chance to swing my bat.
Chapter Seventeen
I drove around town, passing all the usual haunts: Deluca’s Bakery, O’Malley’s, The 9er Diner, and UnShelved. At least until my gas light came on. As soon as I got into the truck, I’d turned off my phone. There wasn’t anybody I wanted to talk to anyway. The silence echoed in my ears. I filled up and headed back to school. The closer I got to campus, the more I wanted to turn around and get on the highway. Going home with my tail between my legs was not going to fix this. Mom would’ve been happy, at least. I pulled into the parking lot behind my dorm. After I got out, a black Jeep Wrangler at the other end of the lot caught my eye. My pulse ricocheted through my chest, but there was no way it was Mallory’s. She had company. Jason fucking Carter. Unbelievable.
The building was mostly dark. A few windows were lit on the top floor where the foreign kids lived. I swiped my key to get inside and wished there was somewhere else I could go. O’Malley’s was an option, but I really didn’t feel like seeing that waitress. Or anybody else, for that matter. Even thinking about O’Malley’s reminded me of Mallory. I stared at the dirty gray tile of the hall, wondering how I’d misread every single sign. Replaying everything we did, everything we said, as I stalked toward my room, I came up with nothing other than her distance. And I got it. Mallory pulled back because she was scared. But she should’ve told me about Carter.
It was too much to deal with. I needed a hot shower and a nap. Then maybe a bottle of tequila. When I glanced down the hall, someone was in front of my room. Mallory sat on the floor with her knees to her chest. She leaned her head back against my door and watched as I walked toward her.
I stopped, staring down into her eyes. “What’re you doing here?”
Tears glistened on her cheeks. Despite what I’d just learned, I wanted to wipe them away. I bent my knees, a sharp crack snapping in the wrong way as I brought myself to her level. The pain seared through my thigh, but I kept my face blank. Mallory didn’t need to know. Besides, it was getting better, and this rarely happened anymore.
She still hadn’t answered my question.
Sighing, I ran my face over my hand. Fuck it. I was going all out anyway. Might as well take a swing away like a full count in the bottom of the ninth. “You lied to me.”
“I—”
“You told me you didn’t date baseball players, much less anyone else. And who’s at your house? The reigning World Series MVP. All this time I waited, thinking I had a chance.” I stood too fast and had to lean against the wall before I fell. The hallway swayed. My heartbeat raced like it was on its way to a Triple Crown. I didn’t need all of this shit. On top of that, my damned knee cracked hard. It had been fine for the last few weeks. Sure I had an occasional snap that almost brought me to the floor, but it wasn’t bad. The pain brought me back to reality. I’d take some meds, and it’d be fine. It had to be fine.
My hand shook as I stuck my key in the lock over her head. I needed answers from Mallory. I deserved them. My fingers hovered over it, while I debated about what I wanted to really say to her. Nothing short of the truth would do. “Why’d you do this? You knew I was falling for you. You had to know. But you strung me along? I thought… Damn it, I thought I was being patient because you needed to work to let me in. I never believed you’d lie about this.”
“Do you mean it?” Her soft voice echoed down the quiet hall.
I glanced down, the tears flowing faster along her cheeks. As much as I wanted that anger to surge through me like lightning, I was so tired of her games. “I’ve meant everything I’ve ever said to you.”
She stood and took one of my hands in hers. They felt so tiny around my fingers. I stared into her eyes, trying like hell to figure out what in the world she was thinking and failing as usual. With one hand still holding mine, she reached up with her other one, running her fingers along my temple, down my cheek, over my lips. The light moan escaped without my permission.
“Jason’s not…” She sighed and continued tracing my face with her fingers. I couldn’t move. “I’m not with him, Aaron.”
I leaned against her soft touch, wishing it meant as much to her as it did to me. The warmth of her fingers disappeared, and she let go of my hand as she stepped away.
“He’s just an old family friend,” she said as she continued to back down the hallway. “Okay?”
My head nodded before I realized what I was doing. Was it okay? It had to be. If it was okay, that meant there was hope. Even if it was a small sliver, it was there. I reached for it and held it to my chest.
Mallory stopped a few feet away, her brows furrowed. Her chest heaved, and she took a small step back toward me. Then another. I stood frozen by my door, not willing to move and scare her away. When she was close enough I could smell her soft vanilla scent, she raised onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against mine. Before I could react, she broke away. With a small smile, she turned and escaped out the door. The cold air rushed down the hall, smacking me in the face, waking me from the obvious dream.
I unlocked my room and went inside. The first thing I reached for were the pain meds. The second, the needle. I filled the syringe and plunged it deep into my thigh. I needed to get better, faster. I needed to do this for Mallory. For baseball. I needed to become the next Jason Carter, and I needed to do it fast.
I stared at the remainder of the steroids. Seth had warned me to quit by Thanksgiving or I’d risk testing positive. Then I wouldn’t have baseball. That wasn’t acceptable. God, what was I thinking? I couldn’t lose everything. NCAA regs were harsh, but Westland’s were worse. The school had a zero-tolerance policy. One positive test and I was done. And it wasn’t going to happen. I tossed the PEDs into the trash and cleaned out my mini fridge before taking the bag out to the dumpster. The vials thunked against the metal. I was officially done.
Except for one vial and a handful of pills. Only for an emergency. Just in case I needed it.
I collapsed on the bed, exhausted from driving two hours only to get on a roller coaster of Mallory Fine. It was nearing four when I woke and turned on my phone. Chelsea had sent ten text messages. Each more panicked than the first. I hit her number, a sense of dread souring my stomach. It didn’t even get a full ring before she picked it up.
“There you are!” she shrieked.
“What’s wrong?” My voice filled with the cold fear leaking into my veins.
“What makes you think anything is wrong?” She hit an octave I never thought possible in a human. Dogs in Cincinnati could’ve heard her.
“Chelsea,” I warned.
“Mom and Dad—”
I tightened my grip around the phone. “Are they okay?”
“Yes, will you just let me finish?” She sighed into the speaker with an exaggerated breath. “Just shut up and listen, because you’re not going to like this one bit.”
“Get on with it, Chels, before I get back in my truck and drive home.” My teeth ground against one another.
“I overheard Mom and Dad in the kitchen. You could say I was eavesdropping—”
“I could, huh?” I raised an eyebrow even though she couldn’t see me.
“Okay, I was eavesdropping, but this wasn’t what I expected. They were supposed to be discussing my fate, not you.” Her frustration fed through the phone.
“Me? Why were they talking about me?”
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“Probably because you took off today, the day after Thanksgiving, Mom’s favorite holiday.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get that much. But I didn’t do anything?” I hadn’t intended on it sounding like a question. Hell if I knew what I did to upstage Chelsea’s move to New York.
“Mom started in on him about you. Dad told her to mind her own business. She snapped at him that you were heading down the wrong path, blah-blah-blah.”
Anger tinted my throat. “Really? You throw in a blah-blah-blah there?”
“That’s not what’s important. Listen, you know how Mom and Dad started dating in high school, right?”
“Yeah,” I croaked. It had been drilled into my head for as long as I could remember.
“Apparently, they broke up for a while in college. Dad supposedly cheated on her or something.” Chelsea’s voice cracked on every other word. This news dug at her as much as it did me. “They really didn’t get into detail, but it was implied that Dad wouldn’t have ruined his baseball career if he’d never split with Mom. Anyway, this whole mythical perfect parent thing just blew up in smoke. Mom’s freaking out that you’re acting just like Dad. Dad’s pissed because she’s bringing up something that happened over twenty years ago. It was epic, Aaron.”
“Wait, so you’re telling me that Mom and Dad haven’t been together since high school? Why in the fuck would they lie to us about that?”
“Think about it. Has Dad ever claimed that? Nope, it’s always been Mom.” She paused to let it sink in. And sink it did, like a boulder in quicksand. “The only reason I’m telling you is because Mom’s determined you’re ruining your life. She’ll probably do an intervention at Christmas.”
“I highly doubt that.”
She inhaled sharply. “Is Mallory there?”
“No, she’s not.” God, how I wished it otherwise.
“Oh, I guess it didn’t go well?” Her voice dipped to normal levels.
“I honestly don’t know.” I pictured Mallory walking away from me, but those few minutes before, when she touched my cheek, held my hand, kissed me, were almost perfect. Hope. “But it’ll be fine. I think.”
“I’m sorry. If you need to talk, you know…” Chelsea sighed loudly into the phone as if this whole conversation was a terrible burden she was finally rid of. “Anyway, I wanted to warn you about Mom. She’s hell-bent on making you miserable.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, sis.”
“I’d expect you to do the same.”
“Anytime. Talk to you later,” I hung up just as someone knocked on the door. Kicking my duffel out of the way, I got up and strode across the small room to yank open the door. Seth stood in front of me, smiling like a cat that finally caught his mouse. “What’re you doing here?”
“Eight-hour drive to hang out in a trailer? No thanks. I’d rather stay here and have a frozen dinner.” He stepped into the room and closed the door. “You done?”
“Yeah, I’m done.” Except for an emergency stash. Just in case.
“Good. Can’t have you testing out.” Seth tossed a large white bottle toward me. It rattled in the air, but I caught it with ease. “Some supplements, man. It’ll help.”
I glanced down at the bottle labeled “B-Complex.” “You giving them to me?”
Seth shrugged. “Figured if we were going to win this year, we needed our center fielder.”
A ball of worry unraveled in my gut. Mandatory drug screening would start soon. It was always random, and there were thirty other guys who might get called first. According to Seth, everything should be out of my system by then. “Nothing’s gonna test if I drop, right?”
“Like I said before, no worries as long as you’ve stopped. You cleared to play yet?” Seth leaned against the doorframe.
“Not yet. Doc cleared me to take some swings after Thanksgiving. May hit the cages this weekend as long as I get this paper done.” I chucked the bottle onto my bed.
Seth opened the door as his phone rang. “Cool. I’d get tired of watching tapes all the time while the rest of the team worked out.” He pulled his phone out of his jeans and stared at the screen. A smile slipped over his face as he glanced down the hall. “Gotta go, man. See ya.”
I nodded and closed the door behind him. The white bottle sat in the middle of my navy-blue comforter. When I took over center field, he had done whatever he could to make my life miserable. Shaving cream in my cleats wasn’t that big of a deal. Peroxide in my shampoo, harmless fun. Childish pranks, nothing more. The more games we won with me in center, the less he did what he could to annoy me. He’d backed off after I hit four hundred. We became good friends.
The one thing Seth wouldn’t do was sabotage the team or our chances at winning nationals. Winning was more important. Seth was like the rest of us; he didn’t care where he played as long as he played. Moving toward the bed, I grabbed the bottle and put it in the closet. Nothing to worry about.
My phone vibrated against my leg. Reaching into my pocket, I dug it out and tugged it free.
Mallory’s name popped on the screen.
Come over for dinner tomorrow night?
My smile was instant. I tapped in my answer.
Tell me when and I’ll be there.
Six?
See you then.
I sat in front of the computer and booted it up. If I was going to play this spring, I needed to pass this stupid class. The burden weighed me down, but thoughts of dinner at Mallory’s kept me going. It was time to scholar up.
Chapter Eighteen
The letters blurred on the screen, blending into one another until I couldn’t tell where one word ended and the next began. Heat surged through my veins, sending my heart on a high-speed chase in my chest. It echoed in my ears, vibrated down my legs. The room started spinning.
What the hell was going on?
I tried to push myself to my feet, but my left arm gave out. My heart sped up until I couldn’t recognize one beat from the next.
This wasn’t right. Nothing was. Pressure built in my body as if I were underwater.
Then it stopped.
The rapid-fire pulse in my chest seized. Electricity shot down my arm.
The beat returned, not as fast, but not like normal. Who knows how fast their heart beats? I was aware of it after running or working out, but this was a whole other ballgame.
I managed to get to my feet and stumbled out into the hall. Seth just happened to be strolling by as my legs gave out.
“Whoa, man, what’s wrong?” Real concern laced his voice.
“Hospital.” It sounded foreign on my tongue and barely audible.
“Shit, yeah, let’s go.”
Seth held me up as we ran to his car. Hell, he pulled me. My feet recognized my brain’s commands ten seconds behind. The racing in my chest sped back to hyperdrive, then skipped again as I collapsed in the passenger seat of Seth’s Chevy.
“Fuck me.” I yelled as loud as my hoarse voice would allow. “Hurry, Seth, I’m…”
It skipped again. I screamed as darkness filled my vision.
The steady beat of a heart monitor woke me. I had no idea how long I was out. The last thing I remembered was fire in my veins. Seth must’ve made it to the hospital on time. I thought I was dying. I’d actually hoped at one point that I would die just to stop the pain.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
I sat up enough to see a young doctor stroll into the room. His white lab coat hung past his knees, and round frames perched on his nub of a nose. He adjusted them, glaring at me through the thick lenses.
“You want to tell me what happened?” He stopped beside the bed, crossing his arms. It might’ve been an attempt at intimidation, but it failed.
“I don’t know. You’re the doc. You tell me.” Glass cut through my throat.
He shook his head and reached for the flimsy plastic cup on a tray table. “Drink this.”
The water was lukewarm on my tongue and ice cold on my swollen throat.
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nbsp; “So you’ve never been diagnosed with heart arrhythmia?”
I shook my head. Stars collided in my vision. This was worse than a hangover. My skull felt underwater.
He crossed his arms again. “You taking anything?”
Here it was, my chance to confess. I could tell him about the steroids, the HGH. Did I want that? It wasn’t cheating, since the season hadn’t started yet. It wasn’t cheating, since I only needed the PEDs to heal. It wasn’t cheating.
“You’ve got elevated levels of testosterone in your blood.” He tapped a folder against his leg.
“Prednisone,” I said, pointing to my knee.
He shook his head. “That doesn’t affect the testosterone levels. Try again.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. What could I say? If I admitted it, he’d tell Coach Hummel or worse—the athletic director. Then I would be done.
“Look.” The doc let his arms fall and sighed. “I can’t prove you’re taking steroids, but you and I both know you’re on something. The only thing I can prove is that you’ve got a heart arrhythmia and high testosterone. You need to see a cardiologist. This isn’t an isolated incident. It will happen again. And whatever you’re taking will only make it worse.”
“I’m not taking anything,” I whispered. The lie tasted like sour milk.
The doctor shook his head. “Bullshit.” He stared at the chart in his hand. “The nurse will be in to get all your information. Do you have insurance?”
I nodded. My parents had great insurance.
“What’s your name?”
The reality sunk in slowly. He had no idea who I was. There was no way to report me to the school. No way to get me kicked off the team. I could sneak out of here without worrying about getting busted. I closed my eyes and lied through my teeth. “Trent Mitchell.”
“Okay, Trent. I’m going to keep you overnight for observation. I’ll have the nurse bring a list of cardiologists to check out. I recommend scheduling an appointment as soon as possible.” He jotted something in the chart. “And stop taking whatever you’re taking. It’s probably what caused this attack in the first place.”
Full Count (Westland University) Page 14