Playing the Field

by Christina Benjamin

  “See,” he smirked. “You’re back to your old self already. You’re turn.”

  “I can’t think of anything when I’m plummeting to my death,” I replied closing my eyes again.

  “I’ll go again,” Grant offered. “Never have I ever kissed a teammate.”

  My eyes snapped open. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  The look in his eyes was so serious that I wondered how long he’d been waiting to ask me this question. “Of course not,” I said angrily.

  “Really?”

  “Did someone say otherwise?”

  Grant frowned. “Tyler certainly isn’t clearing up any rumors that might be going around.”

  I snorted. “Tyler’s an idiot. I’ve never kissed anyone; period and he certainly won’t be my first.”

  Grant’s eyes widened and my heart dropped faster than the ferris wheel as I realized what I’d just admitted.

  Way to go, Alex!

  Nothing like telling your crush you’ve never been kissed!

  Grant blinked in disbelief. “Let me get this straight. You’ve never kissed anyone? Ever?”

  I suddenly felt ready to conquer my fear of heights if jumping off this ride would get me out of the awkward conversation that was about to happen. From the twinkle in Grant’s gray eyes, I could tell he wasn’t about to let this go.

  “No, okay! I’ve never been kissed! Get all your laughter out now.”

  “I’m not laughing,” he said and when I met his eyes, there wasn’t an ounce of humor in them.

  “Why haven’t you ever kissed anyone?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Why won’t you date anyone?”

  “Because I’d rather focus on baseball than girls. Quit changing the subject. Why haven’t you kissed anyone before?”

  I felt my cheeks burn with shame as years of insecurity surfaced. “It’s not like I haven’t wanted to, but I move so much it’s hard to have friends, let alone boyfriends.”

  Grant just stared at me like maybe I was from another planet. I wished he’d just say something. Anything was better than the look on his face—a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

  He was probably wondering why on earth he’d been wasting his time on someone like me. And honestly, I couldn’t blame him.

  I closed my eyes, wanting to disappear. “I guess I’m just unkissable.”

  That’s when I felt his hands on my face, pulling me toward him. When my eyes met his, they were burning with conviction. “Princess, you are the least unkissable girl I’ve ever met,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to mine.

  My breath caught in my throat.

  He was going to kiss me!

  Grant King, my very first crush, was going to kiss me on a ferris wheel and I couldn’t imagine anything better.

  Grant

  My lips were a breath away from Alex’s when I heard Lucas shouting my name. Startled, I looked around spotting him and Casey waving at us from the ground.

  “Lucas?” My voice came out hazy and confused after my near-kiss with Alex.

  “There you are!” he shouted. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, already feeling a pit open up in my stomach.

  “It’s your dad.” Lucas glanced from me to Alex. “He’s in the beer tent.”

  I mutter a string of expletives under my breath, cursing my dad for breaking the spell I’d been under with Alex.

  Why was his timing so epically awful?

  “I’ll get the operator to let you off,” Lucas said, jogging out of view.

  Alex looked at me. “How can I help?”

  I shook my head bitterly. “You can’t. Stay here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Grant

  By the time I got to the beer tent my heart was pounding. I didn’t know what I’d be walking into. My dad was famous for having a bit too much fun and getting himself kicked out of a few establishments in town, including the carnival.

  Two years ago, he’d started throwing punches because someone told him their son had a better batting average than me. After that, he’d been asked not to return. But of course, that didn’t stop dear old dad from embarrassing me further.

  Like always, he did whatever he wanted, never bothering to think how it affected me. To say my guard was up as I pushed my way into the tent was an understatement, so when I saw my dad holding court at a table sweet relief swept through me.

  It looked like things hadn’t escalated yet. That meant I still had a chance to get him out of here before he completely humiliated me in front of Alex and my teammates.

  I approached him with caution. “Dad, come on, it’s time to go home.”

  He grinned when he saw me. “Grant! There ya are,” he boomed. “You can set ‘em straight, son. Tell these idiots they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grumbled, pulling him to his feet.

  “They say that you’re not starting this year. They say you got beat by a girl!” He spit the last word like it tasted bitter.

  I wasn’t sure who ‘they’ were, but as usual, a crowd had gathered to watch the spectacle my dad was creating. “Come on, Dad. Let’s go home.”

  He stiffened. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me I’m wrong. My son wasn’t beat by a girl!”

  I felt the eyes of the full tent on me and wished I could just walk away, but I knew leaving my dad unsupervised when he was like this was like leaving an open flame near a stick of dynamite. The best thing to do was tell him what he wanted to hear.

  “Of course not, Dad. Now let’s go.”

  He smiled and pointed to the onlookers. “Ya see! I told ya. Not my boy. Ha! You got it wrong. Kings don’t let women get the better of us, right son?”

  “Sure,” I muttered trying to get him moving, but we’d only managed a step or two before he stopped dead, locking eyes with someone in the crowd.

  I looked up and felt my limbs fill with ice.

  Alex stood in front of us, wearing my hoodie and an expression of fear. I couldn’t blame her, because my dad’s face had gone from smug arrogance to raging disgust in a matter of seconds. I could practically see the steam coming from his nostrils as his eyes moved from her in my hoodie, to me and back again.

  I quickly moved in front of Alex trying to block her from view, but it was too late. He’d already seen her in my hoodie and in his egotistical mind, that was all the proof he needed to know that the rumors were true.

  To my dad, this would seem like the ultimate betrayal considering he’d spent a lifetime telling me never to trust women.

  “You,” he hissed raising a hand toward me.

  I didn’t know if he meant me or Alex, but I wasn’t going to let him close enough to find out. I pushed his hand away and met his glare with one of my own. “Dad, go home. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

  “Ha! The only embarrassment here, is you!” he bellowed. “Choosing a girl over me? Over your future? You’re no son of mine,” he hissed, shoving past me and disappearing into the darkness.

  I turned and stormed out of the tent in the opposite direction. I wanted to get as far away from that scene as possible. But as I stomped through the darkness between the rows of tents I knew no amount of distance could ever erase the pain my dad’s words caused. Yet they were nothing compared to what I felt seeing the look on Alex’s face.

  Now she knew who I was, where I came from. And now she’d look at me just like everyone else in this town.

  Like I was worthless.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Alex

  I chased after Grant, ignoring Lucas’s suggestion to give him some space. I’d never seen a parent speak to their child like that before. It gutted me, especially because it was my fault. I’d had my differences with my own parents, but I never doubted they loved me.

  If this was the kind of thing Grant’s dad was saying to him, it wasn’t any wonder why
Grant didn’t want me on his team. I mean I knew some people weren’t happy about a girl joining the boys’ team, but I never imagined such open hostility.

  How could a father say such awful things to his own son?

  I hated that everyone had witnessed it. I hated that it had ruined what had promised to be an incredible night between me and Grant. But most of all I hated to see Grant suffering and I wanted to find a way to make it better.

  No wonder Grant wanted to get out of Northwood. Anyone would be desperate to do whatever it took to get out of a situation like that. Now that I knew what he was dealing with at home, the puzzle of Grant King began to make much more sense. But I despised the picture that was taking shape.

  Grant deserved better than that and I was determined to let him know I thought so. I ran after him, following him down the narrow aisles where the tent flaps backed up to each other.

  “Wait,” I called, breathless as I caught up to him. “Grant, talk to me.”

  “Why?” he yelled, stopping so suddenly it surprised me. “What could you possibly want to talk about now that you know the truth?”

  “What truth?” I asked.

  “That my dad hates me, my mom left, and my life is one big pit of mistakes. Take your pick!”

  “Grant your parents’ mistakes have nothing to do with you.”

  “Don’t they?” he asked.

  My eyes searched his, meeting deep pools of painful emotion. “Grant . . .” I whispered. “I would never judge you based on someone else’s actions.”

  He backed away from me. “I’m not like you, Alex. I come from nothing. You deserve better. Everyone does and they all come to the same conclusion sooner or later. I’m just trying to save us both some time.”

  It made so much sense now. The reason he didn’t date. Why he didn’t trust people. His dedication to a sport he didn’t love. He was just trying to survive, and it broke my heart that I hadn’t been able to see how much he was suffering until right now.

  I reached for his hand, unwilling to let him go on thinking he was alone for a moment longer, but he flinched away.

  “Grant, you’re not alone. None of this changes how I feel about you!”

  A flicker of trust cut through the emotion shining in his eyes, but before he could respond, another voice cut through the air.

  “How do you feel about him, Princess?”

  I looked up to see a group of teenage boys moving toward us down the narrow aisle. They wore blue and white athletic jackets with the Collier High Knight logo embroidered on the chest.

  Grant instantly bristled and moved to stand in front of me but I pulled him back.

  “Awe, look, he lets the tomboy fight his battles for him,” one of the boys said.

  “His dad’s right, he’s whipped!” another sneered.

  “Shut up, Colton,” Grant hissed.

  Colton only smiled and extended his hand to me. “Hi, Princess. I’ve been dying to meet you. I’m Colton McKenna.”

  The seething look in Grant’s eyes made me hesitate from shaking Colton’s hand. Instead, I said, “We have a game against you next week.”

  “That’s right,” Colton said, grinning. “Knights versus Trojans. It’s an age-old rivalry. But don’t worry, I’m here to rescue you, Princess.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Colton gave me an oily smile. “Why date Trojan trash when you can get with a Knight?”

  “Or a whole team of them,” one of his teammates added, laughing at his rude joke.

  “Does it really take a whole team of Knights to handle one Trojan like me?” I shot back.

  “You’re feisty, I like that,” Colton said moving closer. “Why don’t you show me how much trouble a Trojan tomboy can be?” he whispered wrapping his hand around my waist.

  Grant exploded, shoving Colton back, but his friends were there in an instant. I tried to stop them as they lunged for Grant but there were five of them and two of us. Everything happened so fast! I saw Grant get punched and go down hard. I was still screaming by the time he got back on his feet.

  One of Colton’s teammates was holding me back as I tried to get to Grant. There was nothing I could do but scream and kick as I watched the Knights circle Grant.

  “No! Please! Stop!”

  But my cries were ignored and no matter how much I struggled I couldn’t break free.

  Suddenly I saw movement in the corner of my vision. I turned to see Tyler, Lucas, Casey and half the Trojans running toward us.

  “Hey, Colton! You too chicken to settle this on the field?” Tyler called.

  I’d never been so happy to hear Tyler’s cocky voice in my life.

  Colton and his teammates paused their advances, shifting nervously when they saw they were outnumbered. I used the interruption to break free from my capture and rush to Grant’s side.

  “This isn’t over,” Colton yelled as he turned tail and ran off with his teammates.

  “That’s what I thought, losers!” Tyler called after them, but my sole focus was trained on Grant.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered, gently tracing my fingers over the outlines of the bruises already beginning to form.

  But Grant wanted answers to questions of his own as his hands frantically searched me for non-existant injuries. “Did they hurt you? If they hurt you, I swear—”

  “Grant, I’m fine.” His panicked eyes met mine. “I promise. I’m fine.”

  I said the words over and over until he stopped trembling and pulled me into a fierce embrace. I buried my face in his chest and let his pounding heart batter my cheek.

  “You good?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah,” Grant said, his voice vibrating through me. “Thanks for having my back.”

  “Always, brother.”

  I smiled into Grant’s shirt, knowing how much that simple sentence would mean to him. Maybe Grant didn’t know it, but he and Tyler were more than teammates, more than friends. They were Trojans and that meant family.

  To a boy who didn’t have much of one, that was priceless.

  Aware our teammates were watching I pulled away from Grant long before I was ready.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked again.

  “Yes,” I replied. “But I don’t think carnivals are for me. Can we get out of here?”

  He laughed. “Absolutely.”

  “We can go back to the barn and party,” Tyler offered.

  “Sounds great,” I replied, reaching out to take Grant’s hand, but he hissed in pain.

  My eyes widened in horror. “Grant!”

  He tried to hide his hand, but it was too late. I’d already seen the gash on his palm and my own fingers were coated in his blood from where I’d brushed against his wound.

  “How did this happen?”

  “I caught it on a tent stake when I fell. It’ll be fine.”

  “No, it won’t,” I argued. “You need stitches. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  “I said it’s fine.”

  I put my hand on my hip. “And I said you need stitches. You’re going to the hospital and that’s final.”

  Lucas came closer to inspect the injury. “How bad is it?”

  “Bad. But he’ll be fine, as long as he follows my instructions.”

  “Which are?” Casey asked.

  “To let us take him to the hospital,” I replied.

  Grant rolled his eyes and held out his hand. “It’s not that bad.”

  Both Casey and Lucas looked ill as they caught sight of the deep gash in Grant’s palm.

  Tyler leaned in. “Gross! That needs stitches, bro!”

  “Woah! Uh, yeah, you definitely need to go to the hospital,” Casey confirmed.

  Lucas gagged, ducking his head behind Casey’s back. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  I crossed my arms triumphantly. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Grant

  I wasn’t used to having someone take care of me. I wasn’t sure if I was all
that fond of it. I didn’t like the idea of letting anyone see me acting weak. Especially not the girl I liked.

  But it seemed Alex wasn’t going to leave my side. Not even during the worst of it. I didn’t get how she wasn’t at all squeamish, because I certainly was.

  “They’re almost done,” she said softly, letting me continue to squeeze her hand while a nurse stitched me up.

  My stomach lurched each time I felt my skin tug.

  “Hey, just keep looking at me and taking deep breaths,” she soothed, running her fingers through my hair in a way that made me forget I was even injured.

  “Right,” I managed through my clenched teeth.

  After a few more uncomfortable minutes the nurse announced that she was done, and that a doctor would be back in to see me shortly with the results of my CT scan. I was pretty sure I didn’t hit my head that hard but apparently the ER wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Can I see?” Alex asked once we were alone.

  I nodded and gave her my hand, letting her gently peek under the gauze bandage.

  “How bad is it?” I asked.

  She smiled kindly. “You’ll live.”

  “Why are you so good at this?”

  “Good at what?”

  “Blood and guts.”

  She laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe because my mom’s a nurse. She’s always had a no-nonsense attitude about injuries.”

  “Well, you’re certainly tougher than you look, Princess,” I teased.

  “I know,” she replied with a glowing grin.

  Man did I like making her smile like that.

  I was trying to think up a way to do it again when the doctor walked in.

  “Grant King?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed.

  “Your CT came back negative for concussion. We’re working on your discharge papers now. And here’s a prescription to help with the pain.”

  “What about baseball?” I asked taking the paperwork. “I can still play with stitches, right?”

  “I wouldn’t advise it. That hand needs a good two weeks to heal. Until then, you need to rest it and keep the site clean and dry.”