Playing the Field

by Christina Benjamin

  I’d been focused on whether or not my athletic ambitions would disappoint my parents, but suddenly realized they’d be even more disheartened by the way I was treating Grant.

  They’d raised me better and it was time I start acting that way.

  “Truce?” I asked offering Grant my hand and genuinely meaning it.

  He didn’t take it, instead studying me with mild amusement. “Is this the kind of truce where I still have to inspect my underwear for hazardous materials?”

  “It was hardly hazardous,” I scoffed.

  “It was my underwear and I say it was hazardous. I could’ve ended up in the hospital, you know?”

  “Not likely considering it was just homemade muscle rub. My mom’s treated our family with it for years.”

  “What if I’d had an allergic reaction?”

  “Oh relax. It’s made of herbs, not acid.”

  “Still . . . it was wicked.”

  “And changing my name on all my practice jerseys wasn’t? I don’t think anyone here even knows my real name thanks to you.”

  He smirked. “Touché.”

  I sighed reminding myself we needed to be moving forward not rehashing the past. “I imagine if we used our wicked minds on our opponents instead of each other that we’d be unstoppable.”

  “I imagine you’re right.” Grant smiled and finally took my hand. “Truce.”

  His touch sent electric sparks zapping the length of my arm.

  Why did this happen every time we touched?

  And why did I like it so much?

  The bell rang, flooding the hallway with students, but I barely noticed. It was hard to concentrate on anything but the way holding Grant’s hand made me feel. It was just like the first day I’d met him and suddenly I was right back in that hallway where he’d almost kissed me.

  Though a sea of students rushed around us, we remained unmoving, hands clasped, eyes locked—two ships holding steadfast in a storm. The only thing that broke me out of Grant’s spell was the jolt of another hand on my shoulder.

  Grant quickly withdrew his hand and I turned to see Tyler grinning at me.

  “Hey, Alex. Can I walk you to class?” Tyler asked.

  “Oh, I um . . . that’s not necessary,” I stammered.

  “We’re going to chemistry,” Grant interrupted. “Isn’t your next class on the opposite side of campus, Ty?”

  Tyler ignored Grant and slung an arm around my shoulder, trapping my hair uncomfortably. “I don’t mind,” he purred. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you about locking you down as my date to the carnival,” he added with a wink like he thought that would entice me.

  Suddenly Coach’s punishment felt like a gift. “Sorry, I can’t, Tyler. I’m going with Grant.”

  “What?” Surprise knitted Tyler’s dark eyebrows together.

  I used his surprise to escape his hold, ducking out from under his arm as I replied. “It’s not like a date or anything. Coach just put us in charge of the game tents. Actually, we need to talk to your mom about that.”

  Tyler smirked. “Oh. I’ll talk to my mom. I’m sure she won’t mind letting you off the hook if she knows it’s to be my date.”

  “No!” I shouted, the word slipping out much more forcefully than I intended. “I mean, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I promised Coach I’d do this with Grant.”

  “Why?”

  “He thinks it’ll help us learn to get along,” Grant said. “Like you said, I need to get on board or get out of your way, right? This is me getting on board.”

  Tyler looked like he’d just bit into a lemon as his eyes darted between me and Grant.

  Grant was smirking, clearly enjoying Tyler’s reddening cheeks and whatever inside joke I was missing.

  Grant

  The warning bell rang and I looked at Alex. “We’d better get to class.”

  “Right,” she said. “See ya later, Tyler.”

  I was already walking down the hall when Alex caught up with me on those long legs of hers.

  “What was that about?” she demanded.

  “Nothing.”

  “It didn’t seem like nothing.”

  “I was just giving Tyler a taste of his own medicine.”

  Her hand caught my bicep making me pause. “Grant, I’m trying to fit in here. I don’t want to be a part of whatever’s going on between you and Tyler. Besides, I thought you guys were friends.”

  “I never said we were friends. We’re just teammates.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’ve known the kid since kindergarten and he’s a great pitcher, but we’re not really friends.”

  “Why not?”

  I huffed a laugh and started down the hall again. “Tyler and I don’t live in the same world.”

  Alex kept pace next to me. “So, who are your friends?”

  I arched an eyebrow at her.

  “What?”

  “You’re really taking Coach’s getting to know each other project seriously, huh?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I really want to get to know you. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a lot of friends here.”

  “What about Ty? You two seem pretty cozy,” I said with a bit too much jealousy.

  Alex rolled her pretty blue eyes. “I never said we were friends. We’re just teammates,” she replied mimicking my voice.

  I laughed as I opened the door to the chemistry classroom, letting Alex walk in ahead of me. There was so much to like about her and now that my future on the baseball team was tied to hers, I was coming around to the idea that I might not have to fight my feelings anymore.

  It lifted a weight off my chest that I hadn’t realized I was carrying.

  Alex was smart, funny, sarcastic and sexy as hell. All this time, I’d been assigning those qualities to Alex: my dream girl, while loathing Alex: my competitor. But watching Tyler ask her on a date had broken something loose inside me and after watching her turn him down, the broken pieces of me reformed differently somehow—stronger, braver, optimistic.

  As we took our seats at our shared desk, I did my best to fight the hopeful feeling in my chest. It was strange how quickly Coach’s assignment had gone from a chore to a gift.

  My phone vibrated and I glanced at the Tattler notification that flashed on my screen.

  Trojan Tattler:

  Looks like our King might have his crown in the ring after all. Rumor has it, our Princess passed up posh player Tyler Bishop to attend the carnival with Grant King instead. Who could blame her? Why date the Bishop when you can have the King?

  This time, I didn’t even try to fight the confidence swelling in my chest.

  Alex gave me a questioning look. “Why are you smiling?”

  I grinned wider. “No reason.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Alex

  The next few days were spent butting heads with Grant. But for once it wasn’t over baseball. Strangely, we were working well together on the field. Perhaps it was because by the time we got to practice, we’d exhausted all the fight we had in us planning the carnival. But with one week to go, we had all but perfected the tents and schedule.

  I pored over the printout in my lap while sitting on the baseball field with Grant. We’d started eating our lunches there so we could work uninterrupted. The cafeteria was too busy to get much done. And I’d actually grown to enjoy our picnics on the diamond.

  The baseball field was one of my favorite places to be and now that the winter weather was behind us, I looked forward to spending my lunch breaks under the robin’s egg sky, surrounded by pine forest views and crisp, March air. There was a peacefulness to it that I hadn’t expected to find in Northwood—or in Grant King.

  Currently, Grant was unstealthily stealing Cheetos from my lunch since he’d devoured his own as soon as we sat down.

  “You know, if you want my Cheetos you could just ask,” I said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 
; “Oh really?” I picked up my half empty bag pretending to examine the label. “I didn’t realize these were that new disappearing flavor.”

  Grant huffed a laugh and pulled the carnival schedule from my lap.

  “Hey! I’m not done with that. And stop getting Cheetos-prints all over it or we’re going to have to start over.”

  He groaned loudly, dropping the schedule back into my lap. “You’re a neat freak.”

  “And you’re a slob.”

  I was waiting for one of his snide comebacks, but instead he just sighed and collapsed onto his back, stretching his muscular arms above his head. His Trojans sweatshirt rode up and I couldn’t help but stare at the sliver of lean toned skin stretched across his stomach. His body looked like it’d been carved from marble and I had a sudden urge to run my fingers over every inch of it.

  My cheeks warmed at the thought and I tried to drown the butterflies in my stomach by taking a large swig of soda. It was just my luck that my plan backfired and I ended up choking on the large gulp, which left me coughing and gasping for breath.

  Without hesitation Grant was by my side, his strong hands patting my back.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes,” I sputtered when I caught my breath again, which wasn’t easy to do now that Grant’s large hands were rubbing circles on my spine.

  My skin tingled and my pulse thundered at his touch. I opened my mouth to say something but the words left my head when Grant’s mesmerizing gray eyes met mine. His face was kissably close. A bit of Cheeto dust still clung to his lower lip and a sudden urge to taste it had me shoving myself away from him before I did something incredibly stupid—like follow my heart.

  I shot to my feet and began pacing. This undeniable attraction to Grant had been plaguing me for days now and I didn’t know what to do about it. Coach had wanted us to work together, not get together. That would unleash a whole new set of issues that I wouldn’t even begin to know how to navigate.

  I’d never kissed a boy before, and something told me starting with one who was a teammate, classmate and carnival co-worker was a bit too advanced. But even though the idea of kissing Grant felt as crazy as jumping from t-ball to the major leagues, the pull was still there.

  Grant blinked up at me in surprise, genuine concern on his handsome face. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, totally. Why?”

  “It’s just, you’ve been kinda jumpy the past few days.”

  “Oh, you know me now?”

  “Isn’t that the point of all of this?” he asked gesturing to the papers scattered around us.

  I sighed and sunk back down to the soft grass. “You’re right. I guess I’m just feeling the pressure,” I lied. “I don’t want to let Coach down.”

  “It’s a carnival, Alex, not world peace.”

  I smirked, still stunned to hear him call me anything other than Princess.

  Was it weird that I kind of missed the nickname?

  Grant may have given it up since our truce, but the rest of the school hadn’t. At our scrimmage last week, the stands had been full of kids in tiaras and tutus bearing signs cheering on the Trojan Princess. It was almost endearing. I’d never had a fan club before.

  My first thought was that my mom would be ridiculously pleased to know I inspired such a fashion trend. Casey certainly was.

  She was ecstatic about my following and constantly reminded me that I was the voice for all the tomboys at Northwood High and more. I wasn’t completely comfortable with it but having a few people in my corner was nice when I ran into the occasional haters.

  Last week we’d stomped the East Lake Tigers in a scrimmage game, which led to poor sportsmanship. In their case, I took the brunt of it. The entire team had refused to shake my hand at the end of the game and a few of them muttered hateful words at me. A few of my teammates had been ready to throw down over it, but I’d been able to persuade them otherwise.

  “Are you worried about the next scrimmage?” Grant asked as though he could see inside my head.

  “Not really.”

  “Good, ‘cause we’ve got your back, Princess,” he added with a wink that sent shivers down my spine. “Now, let’s finish this schedule.”

  Grant

  “Looks good to me,” I said ten minutes later.

  Alex was tapping her chin in thought and I could already tell she wasn’t satisfied. I watched her chew her lip as she worked things over and I wondered if she had any idea what that did to me. All of her adorable quirks had become increasingly painful for me to witness. The way she bit her thumb, itched her nose, brushed her hair over her shoulder. I wanted to be the one doing those things and I wanted it so badly it hurt.

  I wasn’t sure whether Coach Beeler was an evil genius or just plain evil. Alex and I had certainly been playing well together, on and off the field, but that was creating a whole new set of problems that came with complicated feelings. Specifically, ones I was sure were unrequited.

  It was safe to say we no longer regarded each other as enemies, but I wasn’t sure if we’d reached friend status. Honestly, I hoped we hadn’t since I’d recently realized the last thing I wanted was to be friend zoned by Alex Prince.

  The girl was incredible—something I’d known from the start—but I’d foolishly let my ego get in the way and probably ruined any chance I’d had with her.

  All week I’d been trying to figure out if my feelings were one-sided. I wouldn’t blame her if they were. My emotions were giving me whiplash, so it wasn’t fair to expect Alex to keep up with them.

  I wasn’t that surprised by the emotions she conjured. I think I’d been burying my true feelings for her all along in some lame attempt to protect myself. But with all the time we’d been spending together planning the carnival it was impossible not to let her charm chip away at my resolve, leaving my heart vulnerable and exposed—something I wasn’t used to, and not sure I liked.

  But it was getting harder and harder to deny my feelings for her. The clearest sign that I was head over heels for Alex Prince happened just a few days ago at the scrimmage against East Lake. I’d watched her throw the game ending out. It was a tricky double play, but she made it look effortless. I’d leapt to my feet to cheer along with my teammates in the dugout. I’d felt none of the jealousy I’d expected at not being the one making the play myself. I was genuinely happy for Alex, proud even. And beyond that, I’d wanted to rush onto the field and celebrate with her in my arms.

  The feeling had hit me like a freight train, stopping me in my tracks. All I could do was watch my teammates rush the field to congratulate her, while I wrestled with the overwhelming emotions flooding my senses.

  That’s when I heard it; the hateful comments from the other team.

  Their petty words spurred by hate and jealousy had immediately made me think of my dad and filled me with shame. Alex had probably been dealing with people saying things like that about her, her whole life and I didn’t want to be part of the problem. I wanted to protect her.

  And that’s when I knew . . . To hell with my heart. Alex Prince might stomp it to pieces, but maybe that’s what hearts were made for.

  “Okay,” she said pulling me from my thoughts. “Let me just move Lucas here and I think we’re good.”

  I watched her move Lucas’s name from the ring toss tent to balloon darts.

  “You’re putting Lucas with Casey?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “Just trust me,” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Sometimes people just need to be pushed together to find out if they click, don’t you think?”

  My stomach dropped like I’d just crested the peak of a rollercoaster.

  Was Alex saying we clicked?

  Chapter Thirty

  Alex

  Trojan Tattler:

  Trojan Tragedy averted thanks to Royal Duo. King and Princess took down the competition at last night’s scrimmag
e against West Field Warriors. With the rumored royal couple working together, the Warriors didn’t stand a chance, though they came close to tying the game up. But that was before King’s grand slam and Princess’s impressive outs. All hail the royal couple!

  I put my phone back on my nightstand and decided to give up on sleep. I’d been tossing and turning anyway. I might as well start my day.

  It was Saturday morning and I’d been awake for hours fighting the pit in my stomach. It was finally the day of the carnival. We’d long since handed off our tent assignments to the approval of Coach and Tyler’s mom. Now all that was left to do was work the tent with Grant.

  I didn’t know why I felt unsettled by the idea, but my mom’s excitement wasn’t helping my nerves. Much to my humiliation, I’d spent the previous day dress shopping with her. I did my best to suck it up and model each dress she picked with a smile. I felt I owed her after depriving her of years of such girliness. But the truth was, all this fussing over the perfect dress was making me even more nervous for my non-date with Grant.

  Things had been going well between us. We’d won yet another scrimmage and earned an A on our last chemistry assignment. We’d actually made strides toward a real friendship.

  So, why was I so worried?

  It’s not like we’d go back to being frienemies once the carnival was over . . .

  Would we?

  That was certainly Casey’s theory. But every time she even remotely mentioned there might be more than feelings of friendship between me and Grant, I threatened to change her tent assignment.

  She’d been over the moon when I told her I’d put her and Lucas together to work the carnival. After all her talk at Champs, she’d still been too chicken to ask him to be her date. And though she had no dating experience of her own she was more than happy to give me her unsolicited advice about me and Grant as we got ready for the carnival together.

  “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Casey said.