The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Alexander, S. B.

  Chapter 13

  The next day, my sole focus was tryouts. As soon as I got out of bed I started to go through my pitches in my head, and how to grip each one. Index finger to aim my curveball at my target. Space between the ball and my palm on the fastball. Hold the ball slightly off center on the slider, cock my wrist, but don’t lock it. My shoulder was still tender, but I was going to push through the pain.

  After I got ready for school, I grabbed my sports bag and backpack then headed downstairs. I’d just stepped off the last stair when Dad’s voice sounded from his office. What was he doing up so early? He normally slept in.

  I swung around the bannister and walked down the hall. His voice deepened. Whoa! Who was he arguing with? I normally didn’t eavesdrop, but the rage in his tone kept me planted outside his open door.

  “I don’t give a fuck what you guys think. I know what I’m doing.”

  I’d never heard my father say the F word before. I stifled a gasp as a knot formed in my stomach. He grumbled before a sudden series of crashes, clangs, and dings filled the room. I dropped my bags and ran in. His glass-topped desk was clear. Everything from on it was strewn all over the tan carpet, including his laptop.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, stopping.

  He looked up. The grimace on his face waned. “Oh. I thought you left for school already,” he said. Anger lingered in his tone—I imagined at the caller he’d been talking to.

  “I was just leaving. Is everything okay, Dad?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Just a disagreement with Eric and the board at the record label.” Dodging the files, pens, binders, laptop, and CDs, he circled around and hugged me. “Don’t worry, Sweet Pea.” His tone mellowed.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, returning the hug. I’d never known Dad to argue with Eric. I wasn’t so much worried about his argument as I was about him, though. Maybe he was in the anger stage of his grief.

  He let go. “I’m fine. Now, I’ll see you at tryouts this afternoon.” He kissed me on the forehead. “You’re going to be late.”

  I left, not convinced he was okay. Something was going on. I couldn’t help but think back to the first day of school and how he’d taken a long time to get out of the car. When he did he had his lips pressed together like someone had pissed him off. Had that been Eric, too?

  As I drove to school, I tabled my worry over Dad, for now. I was relieved that I didn’t have to rely on anyone to take me to school. I turned up the radio. “We Don’t Have to Look Back Now” by Puddle of Mudd blasted from the speakers. Taking Kody’s advice to get into my zone before school, I sang along. Losing myself in a song cleared my mind.

  I sang three songs between home and school. By the time I parked in the school’s lot, my thoughts were of Kade and his brothers—mostly the triplets. It had felt good to hear them say they needed me to make the team so we could win at state this year. Their words were going to be my mantra today.

  The brisk wind battered my face when I got out of my car. At least the sun was out and not a cloud was in the sky. Tryouts would be cold but dry. With my sports bag cross-wise over my body and my backpack on my right shoulder, I made my way into school. Several kids hurried across campus while others talked and walked like they didn’t have to be anywhere anytime soon.

  I’d just stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of the main entrance when I spotted Kade coming toward me from my left. I smiled, my gaze roaming over him inch by inch. As usual, his jeans rode low on his hips. His blue henley accentuated every muscle of his upper body. But the one thing that had my insides sizzling was the way he looked at me with love and hunger in his eyes.

  Wait. Rewind. Love? I laughed. I think I took too many Advil this morning. It’s messing with my head.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, stopping inches from me.

  “Nothing.” My voice hitched.

  He studied me, seemingly oblivious to the kids walking by us. Then he whipped his backpack off his shoulder, unzipped the top, and pulled out a single yellow rose. “Good luck today,” he said, handing it to me.

  It was my turn to study him. I looked at the rose then up at him. Was he for real?

  “Go ahead. Take it,” he said.

  “Yeah, girl. Take it,” Becca’s voice cut through my daze.

  I didn’t even see her walk up. She had her black hair in a side ponytail so it spilled down the front of her jeans jacket. Underneath she wore a scoop-necked orange blouse over a black miniskirt with black tights and black knee-high boots. My sister would’ve loved Becca and her taste in fashion.

  I glanced back at Kade. Taking the flower, I lifted onto my tiptoes and kissed him.

  “So sweet,” Becca cooed.

  No sooner had I broken the kiss than he said, “You’re not getting away that easy. I’ve been waiting all night to kiss you again.”

  “I’m out of here,” Becca said. “Lacey, I’ll see you in English.” She glanced at her phone as she wandered into school.

  “We’re going to be late.”

  “Just a taste.” Before I had time to protest, he leaned down, snaked his tongue through my lips, and kissed me soft and slow.

  Just as I was enjoying the taste of mint he pulled away. “The bell is about to ring.”

  I rolled my eyes. Didn’t I say that a moment ago? He grinned, and I teasingly pushed him. He didn’t move—he laughed.

  Whatever.

  We headed in just as the bell rang. The halls were thinning out. Kade gave me a chaste kiss on the lips, then he turned right while I went left. I made it to my homeroom one minute before the final bell. I didn’t have time to offload my bags or my rose. I sniffed it as I sat down.

  A petite girl with bright blue streaks in her black hair smiled at me. “Someone is either making up or is in love with you,” she said.

  “Just good luck wishes. That’s all,” I replied. At least, that was what I assumed. Then again, maybe the rose was Kade’s way of saying he was sorry for the umpteenth time. He couldn’t be in love with me. We’d only known each other a very short time. On the other hand, love doesn’t have a timetable, Mom always said. She’d told Julie and me how she fell in love with Dad almost instantly at a college sorority party.

  After homeroom, I managed to stuff my sports bag in my locker until I had more time to move it to the girls’ locker room. I used the rose as a bookmark so it wouldn’t get mangled. I wasn’t sure if it would last the entire day. It didn’t matter. The sentiment meant more to me than the flower. Kade was racking up the thank-yous I had to deliver.

  Tyler strolled into English with Grace tied to his arm. Becca muttered something I couldn’t make out. Grace tossed her brown hair over her shoulder as she sashayed down the aisle to her desk two seats in front of Becca. I was glad Zane separated the two. I didn’t want to see my friend hurt or in trouble.

  Taking long strides to his seat against the window, Tyler tipped his chin at me. The tension between us lingered. At least, from my point of view. He’d left the field in a huff yesterday. I shouldn’t have snapped at him. But I wasn’t sure what else I could do to clear the air.

  Kelton strode in, interrupting my thoughts. “What’s up?” he asked, running his palm over my head.

  “Do you mind? I’m not your family pet.” My tone was light.

  “No, but you’re my brother’s girl. So I get to pet you.” He sat down behind me.

  What happened to the sweet Kelton I’d talked to last night? Ignore him. Find your zone. We want to win state this year. We know we can do it with you.

  Mr. Souza walked in a couple of minutes after the final bell, dropped his briefcase on the floor near his desk, then dove into a discussion on the elements of social criticism in the novel Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. He didn’t even take roll. Forty minutes later as I walked out of class I couldn’t help but t
hink how society would’ve viewed a woman playing baseball back when George III ruled England.

  Tyler strode out and passed me without saying a word. Was he mad at me? Well, chemistry should be fun. Tyler wasn’t talking to me. Hopefully, Becca wasn’t in a bad mood from seeing Tyler with Grace. The only person I could count on to be normal was Kelton.

  Whatever mood they were in, I stayed in my zone. I even silently repeated “Humpty Dumpty,” one of my favorite nursery rhymes that Dad used to read to me before bed when I was a little girl.

  As soon as chemistry ended, I bolted to my locker, snatched my sports bag, then hotfooted it to the sports complex. On my way I passed Aaron, who had Tammy caged against a wall and was whispering in her ear. Crimson crept up her neck to her cheeks. She curled her fingers in his blond waves. Luckily, students crowded the hall, so I was able to walk by them unnoticed. Not that I was worried, but I didn’t want any temptation to get into trouble before tryouts.

  Once I stuffed my bag in my locker in the sports complex, I met Becca at our usual place in the courtyard during our free period. Round tables and chairs dotted the area outside the cafeteria. A few students sat studying and talking. Becca was typing on her phone.

  “Who are you texting?” I asked as I eased down into a cold metal chair. The wind blew a paper cup off a table.

  “My mom. She wants me to pick up Chinese for dinner tonight.” She set her phone down on the table.

  “So, do you want to spill about Tyler?”

  She sat back in her chair. “There’s nothing to tell. We dated two years ago. He dumped me and that’s it.” Tears filled her eyes and she looked away.

  I scooted my chair closer. “Does he know you’re in love with him?”

  She let out a strangled laugh. “The only thing Tyler knows is girls other than me. I see the way he looks at you.”

  “Becca?” I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. It broke my heart to see her cry.

  She blinked a few times.

  “I’m not interested in Tyler. I like Kade.”

  “I know. I’m not mad at you. Although on the first day of school I had my doubts. I thought you did like him, until I saw the way you looked at Kade.” She wiped a lone tear off her rosy cheek.

  I wanted to probe more, but this conversation wasn’t about me.

  “I hate Grace’s paws on him. She’s been trying to get Tyler to go out with her for two years. She thinks he’s her ticket out of town. You know, when he gets that football scholarship.” She crossed one leg over the other.

  “What about Kelton?” I’d seen Becca and him talking, but not like Aaron and Tammy had been “talking.”

  “There’s nothing with Kelton. He just wants a fling. I’m not into that. I pity any girl who wants a serious relationship with him. He’s going to be a tough guy to tie down.”

  “Yeah, tying him down literally won’t be that hard, but a long-term relationship would be like trying to chase a fast-moving train for any girl.” I snickered.

  She smiled. We dropped the subject of Tyler and Kelton. Instead we made plans to hang out on the weekend at the Cave—just us girls.

  The rest of the day zipped by. Before I knew it, Kade was walking with me to the sports complex. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “As I’ll ever be.” Despite my friends’ bad moods irritating me earlier, I was calm. The mantras had helped to keep me from getting too nervous.

  When we reached the locker room, he lowered his head and kissed me softly. “You’re going to do great.”

  “I better go,” I said.

  He walked backwards, never taking his eyes off me. I lingered for just a second, skimming my gaze over his muscular frame before I disappeared inside. Several girls filed out of the locker room. Two sat on benches rubbing lotion on their legs. Another girl applied makeup in a mirror attached to the inside of her locker. As I skirted benches, heavy scents of sweet, fruity, and spicy perfumes assailed me. The cool thing about the girls’ side of the sports complex was it always smelled like the perfume counter at Macy’s. While I didn’t care for the mixture of scents, it was better than a room that smelled like sweaty feet.

  When I rounded a bank of lockers I came face to face with Renee Spellman. Suddenly, my nerves went from two on the Richter scale to eight. The blood roared through me. She was sitting on a bench in between lockers putting on her cleats.

  “Hey, we haven’t officially met,” she said, looking up at me. “I’m Renee.”

  I’d avoided looking at her in psychology. I mostly doodled in my notebook in between taking notes. I blinked several times to clear my vision. She’s not Julie. My hands became clammy. White noise slowly ramped up in my head. I knew she wasn’t my sister. Yet my brain dialed back to last January.

  She stood and touched me on the arm. “You’re pale. Maybe you should sit.”

  “No. I need to get changed.”

  “I’ll see you out on the field then.” She swept her brown hair up into a ponytail. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She grabbed her glove off the bench.

  Hell, no. “Yeah. I’ll see you out there.” My legs trembled.

  She dashed out, her cleats beating on the floor. I inhaled so deeply that all the fragrant smells in the room made me choke. The whirring sound in my head quieted as I hurried to my locker. But my somewhat-calm state vanished when I found my locker ajar.

  Why was it open? Did I close it before when I dropped off my bag? I’d been in a hurry. I thought I punched in the code to lock it. All the lockers in school were designed with a four-digit number to unlock it and the same code to lock it.

  With a shaky hand, I pulled it open. All the blood rushed out of me. My body became numb. It was empty. What? How? Why? Tears burned my eyes.

  Suddenly, the volume in my head shot off the charts. It sounded like angry wasps fighting. What was I going to do without my cleats or my glove? Maybe I had the wrong locker. After all, the sight of Renee did blur my vision for a second. My body shook as I closed the door to check the number. Yep. 444 was painted on the door. This was my locker. As I grabbed the handle, I noticed a dent in the edge of the door around the latch. Suddenly, Aaron’s words “Watch your back” screamed over the buzzing. Would he really be that devious?

  I flopped down on the bench, and dropped my face into my hands. Tears cascaded down. What was I going to do? In the middle of the chaos floating in my head, anger roared through me. If I didn’t try out, I would lose my chance at my dream. I couldn’t let that happen. Put on your big girl panties. Show whoever is responsible that they can’t get to you that easily, my inner voice coached. But I didn’t have my gear. So find a glove. That’s all you need. But that wasn’t enough—I had to have my cleats. In my flats, I’d slide off the mound like an amateur ice skater. Plus I was wearing jeans—I wouldn’t be able to lift my knee high enough in my wind-up.

  I couldn’t walk out onto the field. I’d be the laughingstock of the school. The headline would read, “New Girl Tanks When the Pressure Heats Up.” I screamed into my hands. What would my brother do? I looked up to him. He’d pushed through a hurricane to get something he wanted. Well, girl, this is your hurricane. Plow through the storm. I stood, straightened my shoulders, wiped the tears from my face, and walked out.

  As I made my way to the field, I ran through what I was going to say to Coach Dean. Tell him the truth. Would he believe me if I told him someone stole my gear? Would he even let me try out without it?

  The sun blinded me when I looked out onto the field from the tunnel. Those vying for positions were working through drills. Infielders and outfielders were throwing the balls. Aaron stood on third base and threw a ball to the boy on first, who threw the ball to Kelton at shortstop. In the bullpen behind right field, one potential pitcher warmed up, throwing the ball to a catcher. I spotted Coach Dean near the righ
t field dugout, talking with Coach Lee, the pitching coach.

  Making my way over, I kept close to the edge of the field along the stands like a mouse scurrying along the perimeter. I tucked my hands in my pockets so no one would see me trembling. I didn’t want to look in the stands. If I saw my dad, I would lose it. We were in this town because of me. I couldn’t handle any disappointment on his face. I wanted to stay focused to speak with Coach. I thought about tryouts back at Crestview. Baseball wasn’t even on the agenda this time of year—not until February. Dad and I had found it unusual for a high school to schedule tryouts in the fall, but Coach Dean’s philosophy was to choose his team months before the season began. This gave him ample time to mold us into fighting shape. Whoever made the team would be practicing all winter at an indoor sports complex. And that might not include me.

  As I got closer to Coach Dean, the snap of the ball into gloves cut through the angry wasps in my head. A gust of wind blew my hair over my face. Out of habit, I tipped my head to the right as I brushed the strands away from my face. When I did, Kelton was staring at me with a what-the-heck look. I swallowed hard, not acknowledging him. I’d lose it if I kept looking at him, too. The triplets were counting on me.

  Coach Dean glanced up. He, too, had a what-in-the-world expression. He patted Coach Lee on the shoulder before stalking up to me. Coach Lee trotted out to the bullpen.

  “What’s going on, Lacey?” Coach Dean’s voice was firm. “Why are you in jeans?”

  I swallowed again. “I don’t have my gear.”