Curveball (Barlow Sisters Book 1)

by Jordan Ford

  We all chuckle and then go still when Principal Sheehan gets Coach Keenan’s attention and starts introducing him to the girls.

  Introducing them like maybe they’re interested in playing ball.

  No wonder Kingston’s concerned.

  “What the hell is going on?” I mumble, pulling off my mitt and heading within earshot.

  As captain of the team, I like to have my finger on the pulse at all times, and this situation right here is setting off warning bells inside me.

  Why the hell is Coach meeting these girls?

  Is he expecting the middle one in the baseball cap to join our team?

  A girl.

  On our team.

  I don’t think so.

  5

  Let’s Play Catch

  MADDIE

  Coach Keenan’s not into it. He’s looking between us with this dubious kind of smile, obviously trying to be polite, but seriously not considering Dad’s request.

  Lifting his baseball cap, he scratches his forehead and then repositions the tattered red Angels cap on his head.

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, Chief Barlow, but we’ve never had girls play on our team.”

  “Well, I’m glad I can be here to see it happen for the first time.”

  The coach’s glare tries to bore through Dad’s smile, but it’s got no hope. My Dad’s like a freaking redwood when he wants to be.

  I nudge his arm with my elbow. “It’s fine, Dad. Let’s just go.”

  “No, it’s not fine, Maddie. Milo Carter promised me that you girls could play ball here and you will. Now, since there’s no girls’ team, you’ll just have to join the Pitbulls.”

  That’s their mascot. A vicious dog.

  Take me back to Ohio! I want my old team back.

  I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here! I don’t want—

  The shouting in my brain is cut short by the sight of four guys strolling towards us. They’re a mix of builds and looks—one short black guy with broad shoulders and a cheesy white smile, a tall skinny Asian who looks pretty serious, this pale-faced guy with angular features and a mop of sandy curls. And then there’s the tallest one. Dark hair, blue eyes, that perfect triangular-shaped torso. Hot damn, he is fine!

  I immediately look away from him, deciding then and there that I am so not interested. Hot guys are stupid. I figured that out before I even hit high school. They’re so busy worrying about their looks and scoring pretty girlfriends that they don’t care about anything that actually matters. That’s why I got together with Patrick. He’s intelligent. We could talk about current affairs, school, politics—things that were meaningful.

  What’s the bet these jocks strutting towards us are interested in nothing more than baseball and having a good time?

  So.

  Not.

  Interested.

  My traitorous gaze steals one more glance at the tall one before I force my eyes to survey the diamond. It looks in okay condition. I can already see myself behind home plate, crouching down to catch whatever the pitcher’s going to throw at me.

  “The entire league is boys only. I can’t think of one team we’re going to play this season that has any girls on it. I’m sorry, Chief Barlow, but Mayor Carter shouldn’t have promised you this. I just don’t think we can make it work.”

  “Coach Keenan.” Dad crosses his arms, which is a tactic he’s been using my whole life. It makes his large muscles bulge a little bigger and adds to his power in this weird way I can’t explain. When Dad crosses his arms, you know to back the hell down, because you’re not winning that round.

  “Y-yes,” the shorter man replies.

  “Are there any written rules stating that girls are not allowed to play on a high school baseball team?”

  “Uh…” The coach blinks a couple of times, then lifts his cap and does some more head scratching. “Well, uh…” After a soft sigh, he shakes his head and admits, “No.”

  “Great.” Dad drops his arms, his broad smile back in place. “Now I’m not asking for special treatment for my girls. If they’re not good enough to play, then you can keep them on the bench. But I can assure you that I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t think they had it in them. I’m not one to waste somebody’s time.”

  The coach obviously appreciates Dad’s say-it-like-it-is manner and starts to nod.

  “Tryouts are over,” the guy with the sandy curls pipes up. “The team’s been selected.”

  I notice the catcher’s mask in his arm and internally cringe. Great. I’ll be up against him, and he’s obviously not keen on us girls joining.

  This is going to be so, so fun!

  Not. Not. Not!

  It’s hard to deny my disappointment. If I’m one hundred percent honest with myself, I love playing baseball. I don’t really want to make a career out of it. I’m not like Max. But I was kind of hoping to finish out my high school season.

  Not if it’s going to be this hard, though.

  I nearly grab Dad’s arm and try to pull him away until Coach mutters, “We could use a few extra players. Let’s at least see what they can do.”

  He flicks his fingers at us, clicking on his pen and asking for our names and positions.

  “Maddie Barlow,” I answer. “Catcher.”

  I can’t help glancing at the curly haired guy. His expression buckles with a frown while his fingers tighten around his mask.

  “And you?” Coach points at Max.

  Her jaw works to the side and she glances at Dad. His chest is puffing with pride already.

  “I’m Max. I play shortstop.”

  “And she was the best hitter in the girls’ national league. I have her stats if you want to see them. She’ll win whatever game you need her to, Coach.” Dad squeezes Max’s shoulder, acting like she’s his star player.

  Which she totally is.

  Max swallows and gives the coach a closed-mouth smile.

  I don’t get why she’s not grinning like a monkey. Dad’s right. She’s a total game winner. She probably has more talent in her pinky finger than half the people on this field. Oh man, I can’t wait to prove these skeptical douchebags wrong.

  “Chloe.” My sister steps up, her voice soft and sweet the way it always is. “I usually pitch, but I’m not too bad in the outfield either.”

  “Pitch? With those skinny arms?” Coach snickers.

  “She’s stronger than she looks,” I snap back, giving him a pointed glare.

  He raises his eyebrows and nods. I’m obviously not as intimidating as my father, who is now finding a seat on the bleachers.

  Oh man, I hope he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t embarrass us.

  “Okay, ladies. I know you’re not exactly dressed to play, but why don’t you go out there and show me what you can do.”

  Well, that’s unexpected, but what are we supposed to do? Dad’s already sitting in the bleachers waiting for us to make his fight worth it, so I can’t exactly refuse because I don’t want to get my jeans dirty.

  I cast a dubious eye at the field, then look to my sisters. “You ready?”

  “No,” they reply in unison.

  “Come on, you guys.” I force a smile and lean in to whisper, “Let’s show these jerks what Barlow sisters are really made of.”

  I spin around and lock my eyes on the team who have now bunched together to stare at us like we’re monkeys at a zoo.

  “What?” I scowl at them.

  Their only response is a range of smirks and snickers.

  The tall one’s eyes narrow my way, and then he fires a ball at me.

  I catch it without thinking, gritting my teeth against the sting radiating through my palm. What a jerk, throwing a ball that hard when I don’t even have a mitt on.

  I guess he didn’t expect me to catch it.

  From the look on his face, he definitely didn’t.

  I smirk right back at him, then throw the ball with as much power as I can. It’s a small satisfaction to hear th
at thunk as the ball lands in his mitt. It’s my swift reply to his asshole introduction.

  Glancing back at my sisters, I notice the impressed surprise on Coach Keenan’s face. It gives me the courage to call my sisters over and hunt out some mitts and a ball.

  I crouch down by the gear bag, wishing I’d brought my own mitt with me. The equipment in this bag is on death’s door. I pick up a mitt that’s been patched together with duct tape, the leather straps that used to hold it together now replaced with thick string.

  “Ewww,” Chloe mumbles. “I don’t want to put my hand in one of those things. It’s probably full of all kinds of grossness. This entire bag smells like sweaty jockstraps.”

  “How do you know what they smell like? You been hiding out in boys’ locker rooms without us?” Max wiggles her eyebrows while I try, and fail, to swallow my snicker.

  Chloe goes bright red, letting out an indignant gasp before smacking Max’s arm.

  My twin laughs, shoving a worn mitt over her hand. “Man up, sis. We can sterilize when we get home.”

  Chloe makes a disgusted face and pulls out the smallest mitt she can find. I grab a baseball that I’m sure used to be white a couple of centuries ago and squeeze it in my hand.

  “Come on, girls. Let’s play some ball.”

  6

  A Little Carter Charm

  HOLDEN

  Coach hollered at us to get back to work and we’re now running drills in separate parts of the field. I’m pitching to Luke, working on my curveball and slider. In spite of the January weather, I’m sweating. Wiping the moisture from my forehead, I lean down, placing the ball behind my back and rolling it in my fingers. Luke signals with his fingers, telling me to throw him a curveball.

  I nod and stand tall, cupping the ball with my mitt and getting ready to aim and fire.

  My peripheral vision is distracted by a flash of long, sandy blonde hair. Maddie’s straight ponytail swishes up as she catches the ball and then fires it straight back at her twin.

  To my annoyance, the girls look pretty damn capable.

  I don’t even know why that’s grating me so much.

  I guess we’ve just never had girls play before, and the idea of them coming onto this field and outshining us makes me feel like shit. Or worse, if they come onto the field and make us look bad, we’re going to be the laughingstock of the league this year.

  What the hell is Coach Keenan thinking?

  “Are you throwing or what, man?” Luke lifts his mask and stretches his arms wide. With a sigh, he shakes his head and jogs over to the mound. “Don’t worry about it. They’re never gonna play. Coach is just appeasing the big, scary guy on the bleachers.”

  I snicker. “They’re actually not bad.”

  “You’re just saying that because they’re hot.”

  “Watch them,” I mumble out of the side of my mouth. “They’ve got skills.”

  “No way.” Luke nudges me with his elbow. “The girls are playing a simple game of catch. You put them in a game situation with a bunch of guys, they’ll crumble. There’s no way they’re leaving the bench this season. They sure as shit won’t start a game. We don’t need to worry about them.”

  I give him a dubious frown but he just smirks at me and grabs the ball out of my mitt.

  Wiggling his eyebrows, he gives me a wicked grin and fires the ball at Maddie. She’s got no idea it’s coming and I hiss, already hating his decision.

  Luke can be a douche sometimes. I’d never aim a ball at anyone who didn’t know it was coming.

  “Heads up!” I shout, but a little too late.

  The ball smacks into her hip just as she’s throwing. She flinches in surprise, messing up her throw, which Chloe, of course, can’t get to. She gives it a pretty good shot, though. The ball pings off the edge of her glove and rolls towards us.

  “Sorry about that!” Luke’s stupid enough not to hide his grin as he waves an apology.

  I scowl at him, nudging him in the chest with my elbow. “Dick move, Frost.”

  “What?” He laughs. “I’m trying to prove a point here.”

  I glance at Maddie who is limping across to her twin. She refuses to look our way. I can tell it’s a fight by the red hue in her cheeks and the way the tendons in her neck are straining. There’s no way she’s gonna admit that ball hurt. She won’t give Luke the satisfaction of a response.

  Nice. I have to admire her dignity.

  The ball comes to a stop at the base of the mound and I step down to collect it as Chloe trots over to me. I only just caught her name when she was giving it. She’s obviously the sweet, girly one amongst her sisters, and I can’t help smiling as she approaches.

  “Thanks.” She gives me a nervous grin as I place the ball in her hand. Her blue eyes dart to Luke, her smile flatlining before she looks back up at me.

  “Don’t mind him.” I tip my head towards Luke. “He never knows what to do around pretty girls.” I wink and her cheeks bloom red.

  It makes my smile that much wider.

  She’s gorgeous, and there’s nothing sweeter than watching a girl fall beneath my charms.

  Luke kicks my shoe and grunts, his bright eyes narrowed with warning.

  I laugh and slap him on the back, which makes Chloe giggle.

  She wipes her top lip with the back of her finger. “I know you probably think we’re going to ruin your season, but my sisters are seriously tough. You don’t want to piss them off. And I’m not saying that to aggravate you.” Her eyes are so wide and innocent. She looks to Luke. “I just think you should give us a chance. I swear we won’t embarrass you.”

  She’s like pink cotton candy at a fair, her beautiful face sweet and delicious.

  All I can do is nod and wink at her.

  With a sweet giggle, she spins and dashes back to her sisters.

  “You’re such a freaking Casanova,” Luke grumbles. “You gave her the Carter wink and she turned to putty in your hands. I don’t know how the hell you do it…or why you even want to.”

  I shoot him a knowing smile. “Come on, man. If they’re going to be on the team, we might as well make the most of it.”

  “I don’t want them embarrassing us.”

  “Me neither, but if they’re going to be here, we should get something out of it. I’m not gonna treat those hotties like shit because I don’t want them here.”

  “Oh yeah, and how do you propose we scare them off?”

  My mouth tips up. “It just takes a little charm and persuasion. Before you know it, they’ll be too busy swooning over us to care about baseball anymore.”

  I cast my eyes at the girls huddled together on the edge of the field. Chloe has just reached them and is obviously telling her sisters how the conversation went.

  Max rolls her eyes and smirks at her twin, who doesn’t even notice.

  She’s too busy shooting daggers at me.

  It’s not hard to figure out that she’ll be the tough one to crack.

  I’ll focus on Chloe for now. I’ve got a little time on my hands. The games don’t officially start until the end of February. That’s plenty of time to win over these Barlow sisters, and make them realize they’ll be of far better value to the team with their butts on the bench.

  7

  We Can Do It!

  MADDIE

  “You know, I honestly don’t think I can do it.” Max flops onto her bed, kicking off her shoes while staring at the ceiling.

  Her beat-up Vans thump to the floor and I resist the urge to bend down and put them away.

  I have to be mature about this.

  Max and I will be sharing this room for at least another six months. I can control my neat-freak urges.

  I can.

  And I will.

  My fingers ball into a fist as I turn away from the rumpled shirt lying next to the shoes.

  “We have to do it.” I plunk down on my own bed.

  “Uh, no, actually. We don’t.” Max perches up on her elbow and stares at me.
/>
  “Come on.” I tip my head. “It’s baseball. I’m not letting those arrogant jerks take away my final season. Besides, you have to play if you want any shot at college ball. Dad promised you this move wouldn’t jeopardize that.”

  Max rolls her eyes and flops back down, her jaw clenched tight.

  I so wish I could take this all back for her. I wish we could have stayed in Columbus where life was perfect.

  And now life’s going to suck.

  I close my eyes, annoyed at my dark mood. I try so hard to stay positive and upbeat. My sisters need my strength right now, but I’m just not sure I can give it to them.

  Rubbing my hip, I wince, knowing there’s a bruise under my jeans.

  What a freaking jerk. Mr. Curly-Hair-Smirk-Face knew exactly what he was doing when he threw that ball at me. His tall friend—Holden—gave him a nudge and told him off, which was something, but still…

  I don’t like either of them.

  Nibbling my thumbnail, I try to forget how hot Holden is. I hate that I’m even mildly attracted to him. My body seriously needs to get on board with my brain on this one.

  Holden.

  Holden Carter.

  I need to stay as far away from that guy as possible. Might be a little tricky considering who he is.

  My upper lip curls as I relive the last few minutes of that torturous practice…

  Just as we were about to leave, Dad went over and introduced himself.

  “You must be Milo Carter’s son.” His hand shot out, and my insides crawled with irritation.

  Holden took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Yes, sir. Holden Carter.”

  “Well, it’s great to meet you. I hear you’re the captain of the team.”

  “Yes, sir.” He nodded while I failed to hide my horror.

  “I’m confident you’ll take good care of my girls, then.” Dad’s veiled warning was so not veiled. The steely look in his eye told everyone he’d seen Luke’s dickhead throw.

  Holden swallowed and nodded. “I’ll do my best, sir.”