Alex’s dad glared at me. “Are you and I going to have a problem?”
The venom in his voice made me back down and the conversation continued like I wasn’t even in the room.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true . . . Alex’s blue eyes were now fixed on me and they held ten times more fury than her dad’s.
“I’m sure your daughter’s good,” Coach was saying. “But no one gets special treatment around here. She gets a tryout. Nothing more.”
Alex’s discomfort vanished as she continued to glare at me. “Oh, I’ll make the team, no special treatment needed.”
Her dad gave her a proud wink that made my stomach turn.
This was not happening.
The first girl I’d truly liked was not about to join my team and ruin everything.
I felt sick, because no matter how much I liked Alex Prince, there was no way I was letting anyone come between me and my ticket out of Northwood.
Alex
Grant stared at the floor while my dad exchanged words with the coach and principal, refusing to look at me. I watched the muscles in his jaw tick as a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I began to chew my nails. This wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to play softball, not join the baseball team.
But the next thing I knew my dad was passing an athletic form my way. After I signed it, he handed it back to the coach.
“Well,” my dad said, “if this is all settled, we’ll see you at tryouts.”
Grant finally looked up. “Settled?” He looked between the principal and coach. “You’re not serious? She’s a girl. No one’s going to take her seriously.”
His eyes finally met mine, and just like that, my first crush came to a screeching halt.
Chapter Eight
Alex
“He did not say that!” Will yelled. “That little $#@%!”
I had to hold the phone away from my ear until his foul language subsided. “He did.” I sighed. “I’m just glad I found out he was a total jerk before it went too far.”
“What went too far?” he asked, going into defensive big-brother mode.
Oops . . . In my recap of my first day at tragic ‘Nowhere High’, I’d omitted the tiny detail that I’d been crushing on Grant so hard that we’d nearly kissed. I was super close to my brother, but we’d never broached the subject of crushes before and I wasn’t ready to start now when my first one had failed so spectacularly.
Besides, I was saving my heartbreak for the Tomboy Trio, who I’d yet to connect with thanks to their busy sports schedules. My near miss kiss was too embarrassing to recount more than once so I was waiting until I could group chat with them.
“What went too far?” Will asked again, interrupting my thoughts.
“Our friendship,” I said hoping to cover my slip up. “I mean I’m usually better at spotting narcissistic jockwads.”
Will huffed. “Yeah, I taught you better than that, sis. You better fix your jerk-o-meter quick since it sounds like Dad picked a real Stanton this time.”
I laughed at our inside joke. “This is ten times worse than Stanton Prep.”
“Nothing’s worse than that prep school! Do you not remember those mean girls?”
“Trust me, Will, Northwood is worse. There’s like fifty kids in the whole junior class and more than half of them are on the baseball team. Thanks to Dad’s standoff with the coach I’ll be a social outcast by next week.”
“Hey, none of that. You’re a Prince, you know the family motto.”
“I know, I know.”
“Let me hear it,” Will ordered.
“Heads up, hearts strong,” I grumbled.
“That’s right. Now go kick butt and take names. I gotta run to practice. Coach is killing us with two-a-days, but you better call me next week and tell me all about making the team.”
“I will.”
“Good. Love ya, sis. You got this. Heads up.”
“Hearts strong,” I finished.
I smiled to myself after I hung up with Will, wondering what he would think if I told him I’d adapted our Prince family motto to fit the Tomboy Trio. Personally, I liked the new version better; ‘head up or the crown slips’.
Regardless of the words, the sentiment was the same and once again I found myself wondering why I couldn’t be a warrior and a woman?
I just wished the world would let me be both.
When my mom felt it necessary to impart some womanly wisdom on me—which was often—she assured me things would be better after high school, when boys were less immature. But I had trouble believing her after just witnessing my dad puff his chest out and go toe-to-toe with my new baseball coach like two high school bullies.
I still couldn’t believe the sudden turn my life had taken. I hadn’t expected my dad to charge into the school with legal threats. I thought he’d see about putting together a girls team or finding me one to play on, like the neighboring school Grant had mentioned. But that didn’t seem like an option now.
If I backed down, it would look like I was scared of competing against the boys. And I wasn’t. I’d been besting boys since I was born. I wasn’t going to stop now because I’d stupidly crushed on the competition. I was better than that. And I intended to show Coach Beeler just how good I was at tryouts.
But first, I had to make it through the rest of the week.
Grant
My day went from bad to worse as my house came into view. My dad’s truck was in the driveway—never a good sign. That meant he’d been let off the job site early today or hadn’t even gone in at all. Either way it meant he’d most definitely be in a bad mood.
Great. One more problem to add to my growing list.
I sighed and rubbed my forehead as I tried to muster the energy to go inside.
“You want me to come in?” Lucas asked, not missing my hesitation at the sight of my dad’s beat up truck.
Lucas’s dad was the town sheriff, so he knew more than most when it came to my home life.
“Nah, I’m good.” I respected him for offering. He was a good friend, but sometimes it was easier to deal with my problems alone. That way I could pretend they weren’t that bad.
“You don’t sound good,” Lucas replied.
“How am I supposed to sound, Lucas? Coach just put a girl on our team! We’re going to be the laughing stock of the league, which is not what I need right now!”
He shrugged. “Maybe she won’t make the team.”
“She’ll make it,” I growled. “She’s a Prince. That’s basically baseball royalty.”
He blinked at me like I was nuts.
“Lucas, she’s from a family of genetic baseball beasts! Her dad’s a freaking All-Star and she’s got one brother playing pro, another in the minors and two more tearing up the college leagues. They’ve probably taught her everything they know.”
“First, you need to dial it back, dude, because you sound like a stalker with that kinda knowledge. Second, if her family’s as good as you say then shouldn’t we be stoked to have an awesome player like that on our team?”
“Yeah, if she were a he, I’d be all for it. But I promise you, if she makes the team, she’s all anyone’s going to be talking about. Do you want scouts showing up ignoring you to watch a girl play? Because I don’t.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I got out of Lucas’s truck and slammed the door behind me. I heard the sound of his window rolling down, but I didn’t turn around.
“It’s not that bad, dude,” he called after me. “There are worse things than having a hot girl who can play on our team.”
I rolled my eyes and kept my head down as I walked through my unkempt yard because for the life of me, I really couldn’t think of anything much worse than having Alex Prince on my baseball team. But as always, my life had a way of reminding me, things can always get worse.
My dad started in on me the moment I walked in the door.
“Girl trouble?” he grumbled from his recliner.
I glanced a
t the open window and my mood soured. He always left the windows open when he was drinking, like he thought it disguised the smell or something.
What a joke.
Now, not only was it freezing in my house, but it also meant he’d most likely overheard my conversation with Lucas.
“Didn’t I teach you to be smarter than that, son?”
I wanted to tell him he hadn’t taught me anything, but I knew from experience I’d just be wasting my breath. My dad was a self-absorbed, prideful man. He didn’t pay attention to anyone but himself, which is probably why my mom left him. Of course, he couldn’t see that, so why bother pointing it out?
“No girl trouble, Dad,” I muttered as I made my rounds through the house to shut all the windows.
“I know you’re not calling your old man a fool. I heard you shouting about hot girls with Lucas.”
“It’s just team drama, Dad. How was work?”
“Work? Ha! What a joke. The foreman said they didn’t need anyone extra on site today, which is probably why they’re so far behind on construction. When I told him that he said not to come back.” He crumbled up a beer can and tossed it on the floor. “Like I need the work.”
“But you do, Dad. We need to pay the bills.”
“You let me worry about that, okay? You just focus on baseball.”
“Gladly,” I muttered under my breath.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing,” I replied heading to the kitchen.
“So, you still gonna be the pride of Northwood again this year?” he called after me.
“Yep.”
I heard him laugh. “Good. I love rubbing that in at Champs. We gotta show this town the King boys aren’t washed up. It’ll teach your mom for leaving us when you go pro. I’d kill to see the look on her face.”
I ignored his well-practiced rant about my mom and opened the fridge. As expected, it was empty. I shut the door and took a deep breath trying to compose myself. He’d forgotten to go grocery shopping. Again.
My dad forgot a lot of things, like the day of the week, which made it hard to hold onto a job. He forgot to go to the grocery store and pay the bills. He forgot to show up to my games. But the worst part of all of it was that he forgot it was his job to take care of me . . . not the other way around.
And of all the things that slipped his mind, I always wondered why he couldn’t just forget about my mom leaving him.
It would’ve made my life a whole lot easier.
But what did I know?
I’d never been in love. And thanks to my dad, I never wanted to be.
I ignored my growling stomach and decided to call it a night. My dad was still reciting his usual tirade about my mom as I walked by him. I didn’t really listen to it anymore. I’d memorized it by the time I was six.
It may have been heartless for her to walk out on us, but the older I got, the less I blamed her for leaving an egotistical man like him. The only true thing my dad had taught me was I didn’t want to end up like him; an old man who couldn’t let go of the past, living paycheck to paycheck, drowning his sorrows in beer and reciting his glory days at the local bar.
That’s why I had to get a baseball scholarship this year. It was my only chance to get out of here.
I expelled a slow breath to calm myself as I walked to my room.
My dad’s voice followed me down the hall. “Just as long as you aren’t having girl trouble, Grant. You’re smarter than that. They’re all like your mom. They take your heart and leave.”
“Got it, Dad,” I yelled, slamming my door behind me and flopping down onto my bed.
Oh, it was girl trouble all right. Just not the kind he expected.
Chapter Nine
Alex
Well, just as I expected, my reception on my second day of school was much less welcoming than the first day. Northwood High felt a little colder now that everyone knew I was threatening their precious baseball team’s reputation. And I mean everyone knew.
A copy of the school’s trashy gossip site had been printed out and taped to my locker, confirming that the Northwood Trojans were not tomboy friendly.
Trojan Tattler:
It seems a certain baseball princess in our midst thinks her royal bloodline entitles her to play with the big boys. You may be baseball royalty, new girl, but patriarchal prowess will only get you so far. Hope you’re ready to play hardball.
@trojantattler: Have you seen her? I’d go extra innings with that princess any day – bigpapa16
@trojantattler: Good luck. I heard she plays for both teams – camiluvsme
@trojantattler: I hope she does. I love me a switch hitter ;-) – venus69
@trojantattler: The only scoring she’ll be doing is in my bedroom. Come and get your grand slam, Princess – baseballer20
I grabbed the print out and crumpled it up, not wanting to read the rest of the vulgar comments. It’s not that I hadn’t heard them all before. You don’t grow up playing a male dominated sport with built-in sexual innuendos and not expand your vocabulary. But this really wasn’t what I needed right now. And it still stung knowing people were saying such hurtful things about me.
Thanks a lot, Dad!
I know he hadn’t been trying to make things harder for me, but that didn’t change the facts. Because of him, I was stuck at this school, in the situation he’d created.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that his job wasn’t easy. In some ways coaching was just as competitive as playing. If you weren’t bringing home the wins, your job was in jeopardy, and there was always someone younger and hungrier waiting in the wings. I knew my dad was good at what he did, but sometimes I wished he’d gone into any other profession.
It would be nice to not have to start over so often. I could only imagine how great it would feel not to have to pack up my life every year, to have a history with people, to have a place that feels like home . . .
I’d almost begun to think I might get to experience a bit of consistency at my last school in Arizona. I’d loved living there. Everything about the state was awesome. It was always warm and sunny, two of my brothers lived there, I had friends and my softball team was amazing.
I’d been at that school for a year and a half. At the start of my junior year I even let myself fantasize about graduating there. But sure enough, as soon as I let the hope in, my dad’s team turned in a subpar record and he got axed, killing my dreams along with his job.
The warning bell pulled me from my thoughts, and I threw my things in my locker. I took another deep breath, exhaling my pessimism away. It didn’t do any good to look back. My future lay ahead.
“Heads up, hearts strong,” I whispered to myself.
I’d been through all of this before. I could do it again.
One day at a time.
My day wasn’t as bad as I’d expected considering how it started. It was mostly just hushed whispers and judgy looks. But then I walked into chemistry class.
Grant was leaning against our shared desk, long legs crossed at the ankles shamelessly flirting with two girls. My heart squeezed painfully.
How could I have been duped by dimples?
I felt so foolish for thinking we had a connection. Grant was just another player, like every other jockwad I’d ever met.
I shoved my wounded pride aside and marched to my seat, shoving between Grant and his next victims. His charming grin soured immediately when he spotted me.
“Hello, Princess,” he taunted, making a grand gesture of bowing to me which gave the flirty girls another excuse to giggle.
If he wanted to play hardball, fine, I was game. But he was about to find out that I wasn’t some girl who would take his insults lying down.
“Original,” I sneered. “Why don’t you shock me and try saying something intelligent. Oh wait, you can’t. You’re just a jock.”
He laughed. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”
“I can explain it for you, but I can’t understand it fo
r you,” I said sweetly, patting him on the shoulder as patronizingly as possible before I sat down.
Grant’s face turned red. “I’m not stupid.”
I smirked.
Bingo!
I’d found his sore spot.
Apparently, Grant King didn’t like being called an idiot, even when he was behaving like one.
I tapped my chin as I smiled up at him. “You’re right, we’ll have to come up with another word for it, because calling you stupid would be an insult to the word.”
Grant sat down so quickly I drew in a breath. I wasn’t expecting him to get up in my face. I mean there were rules. Boys weren’t supposed to hit girls. I just hoped the boys at Northwood knew that. But from the way Grant was glaring at me, I wasn’t so sure.
“What’s your problem?” he whisper-hissed, his voice so low only I could hear it.
“Are you, of all people, seriously asking me that?”
“Me of all people? What’s that supposed to mean? You’re the one who showed up here playing head games ready to ruin my life.”
“Head games? You’re the one pulling the Jekyll and Hyde act. And how am I ruining your life? All I’m trying to do is play the sport I love. The sport I’m good at. Something you’d know if you gave me half a chance.”
“This isn’t a game to me, Princess. Not all of us have famous daddies who can get us anything we want. I’m not going to let you turn my sport into a joke. And don’t call me Jekyll and Hyde. You don’t even know me,” he growled, looking even more pissed than when I’d called him stupid.
Man, his buttons were easy to push, and I just couldn’t resist one more.
“Oh really? What happened to ‘If I wanted to know everything about you would it be too much?’” I said quoting him in a mushy love voice. “That guy is nowhere to be found today.”
I could see the muscles in Grant’s jaw tick with agitation. His fists clenched and for a second, I thought he was going to punch something. Instead he blew out a breath and opened his text book, giving me one more withering glare. “Well, I guess you got one thing right. I’m an idiot. Because any guy who couldn’t spot you as a two-faced tomboy is a moron.”
Playing the Field Page 4