Full Count (The Catcher Series Book 1)

by Bri Izzo

  As soon as we finish singing, I step away from the table to go inside and find ice cream for Buzz, just like I do at every family birthday party. I put two scoops of vanilla ice cream into a bowl and then open the pantry to see if they have any Oreos. After digging through a shelf of snacks, I find a package of Oreos that I take a few cookies from to crush up and sprinkle on her ice cream. When I come back outside there’s a piece of cake sitting in front of Buzz and a fake smile plastered on her face. How civil of her to act like she wants it just because Chase fucking Morgan is sitting next to her.

  I set the ice cream next to the cake and lean over to whisper in her ear, “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” My lips brush her ear ever so slightly, and I feel the surge of electricity running between us. I swear she tries to shove a chill out of her spine.

  Chase’s dumbfounded expression proves that I won today, and I will always win. He has no idea that she isn’t going to eat the cake in front of her. He doesn’t fucking know Buzz the way I do and he never will. And she knows it, too. The way her lips turn upward when my Cookies and Fucking Cream ice cream sits in front of her makes me crack a small grin myself. Usually I can and will hide my joyful pride, but I want her to know that I like seeing her happy. I also want Chase to know his place in all of this, which is across town or across the country for all I fucking care.

  Eventually everyone disperses from the table, and that’s when I catch Buzz alone. She’s going to rinse out her bowl in the kitchen, and I follow her inside.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she tells me while keeping her eyes on the sink.

  “I always do that for you,” I remind her. “And as fucking cliche as it is, I’m always here for you. So when Chase fucks you over, I’ll be there.”

  “Not if Benny and Rex have anything to say about it,” she mutters. Her hands are clenched onto the bowl as she sets it in the sink but doesn’t release it.

  “They won’t get to say anything about it. They don’t dictate my life,” I explain as she discharges the bowl and spoon from her hand, letting them angrily clank together.

  “Yet Rex made you bring someone on the Fourth of July weekend,” she states. Fuck, so he did dictate that weekend.

  “Yeah, and never again,” I promise, more to myself than to her.

  “Did you play the Sandlot Night Game?” she asks without looking at me, but I see the pain in her eyes. With everything that’s happened, I’m glad that she is so pissed at Alex and Benny, too, that she hasn’t asked them about the night game that should’ve been held two months ago. It means I’m not the only one being ignored.

  “No. It was the first year it didn’t happen,” I enlighten her. It wasn’t even mentioned that weekend with Leah and Makenna there in the absence of Buzz and Tiffany.

  She turns to walk away from the sink, and subsequently me, but I step in front of her. “Can I please fucking talk to you?”

  “Not now,” she kindly denies me, still refusing to look at me. She’s fucking killing me. Can’t she see how I feel about her when I look at her? God, I just want her, no one else. Romantic or not doesn’t matter to me at this point; I just need her back in my life.

  “You’ve been avoiding me all summer. I can’t fucking stand this,” I argue, grabbing her shoulders to square them to me. I dip down so my eyes meet hers while her head is lowered. She’s anxious as fuck already and refuses to meet me halfway. “Bianca!” I shout. “Look at me!”

  I think that is the first time I’ve ever called her by her real first name, and it scares the fucking shit out of her. I watch as her eyes bulge out like she’s a fish trying to swim away from a shark. They nervously cross my line of vision and dart away, but eventually she rests them somewhere on my face - not my eyes. I take it.

  “What?” she mumbles in a trembling voice.

  “I need you to know that I didn’t fucking do anything with her,” I begin. I loosen my hold on her shoulders but only enough for her to relax, not to fucking run away from me like she’s probably thinking. “All we did was drink. I was sleeping on the couch - alone - and she decided to be a fucking bitch and try to get me to sleep next to her. But it never happened.”

  “We weren’t together. You don’t owe me an explanation,” she mutters, finally lifting her head, which is ironic because I’m pretty sure she feels defeated.

  “It doesn’t matter if we were together or not. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t want her there; I wanted you to fucking be there and make that horrible weekend bearable,” I whine, taking a step closer to her so I can embrace her in my arms. She feels limp at first, but after a reluctant moment she reciprocates the gesture. “I’m sorry, B. And I hope I can make it up to you.”

  “I’m with Chase… well, kind of,” she confesses as her chin digs into my hard chest. That declaration makes me want to fume, but she and I are finally speaking again so I hold back. I wonder if she’s just “with” him to get back at me or if it’s going to be something real. Has she really lost all feelings for me? I can’t read her signals anymore, and I hate it.

  “Just fucking be careful. And remember, I’m always here,” I remind her, as much as it kills me to just let it happen. I know he will hurt her, but there’s nothing I can do to stop him. She’ll hate me more than I sort of hate Alex for not letting us be together; I have to let her make her own mistakes.

  The week after Buzz’s birthday dinner is the homecoming dance, Buzz’s first homecoming dance. I convince Benny to go solo with me so we don’t have to worry about entertaining girls all night. Alex is whipped as fuck and is obviously going with Leah and all of her friends, but Benny and I skip pictures with them. My main purpose for wanting to go stag is so that I can watch out for Buzz without someone nagging at me to dance all night.

  When we arrive at school for the dance, I scan the room for Buzz and don’t see her yet. Since Benny’s love interest is fucking twelve years old and therefore not invited to attend the dance, the two of us hang out in the back of the cafeteria as we wait for Alex and the rest of our friends to join us.

  Alex and Leah walk through the doors followed by Leah’s posse, and a large group trails behind them. That’s when I see her. Buzz has on a short baby blue dress with one strap over her shoulder. It’s way too fucking short and revealing for my liking, and I have a hard time believing that’s what she wore when she left the house. There’s no way Allen or Alex would let her leave looking like that. She doesn’t look slutty; fuck, she looks gorgeous and stunning. I just don’t want her looking like a model while standing next to Chase Morgan. I don’t like the way his eyes are falling on her. He appears to be almost genuine until Buzz turns her back to him and he pretends to smack her ass a few times before giving his douchey friend next to him a high five.

  “Stop staring,” Benny suggests, nudging me out of my trans.

  “Tell me you saw that,” I demand, whipping my head and demon eyes at him.

  “I was too busy trying to get your attention,” he replied. “What did I miss?” He glances across the cafeteria at Buzz and Chase who are now sidled up next to each other. “Oh, that.” We both stare intently at them as his hand slides to her hip. I breathe in exaggeratedly hard like I’m suffocating and my only release is to beat Chase’s ass. I take a step forward until Benny’s arm hits me across my chest. “Look, I don’t like that anymore than you do, but you can’t go all King Kong on her.”

  “God knows the fucking things he wants to do to her,” I mutter, obliging to Benny’s suggesting gesture. I can’t even imagine hating someone more than I hate Chase Morgan right now. I can tell from fifty feet away he’s only interested in Buzz’s body; all he’s doing is groping her with his eyes. “I can’t do this.”

  “Can’t do what?” Benny questions me as I bow my head to avert my eyes.

  “I can’t fucking be here when she’s hanging on his arm like that,” I admit. I don’t care if it makes me sound lame; my insides are boiling. Watching her, I can tell she’s a little nervous to be with h
im in this setting. Being his date comes with some expectations. I have a feeling if she knew what they actually were she would be just as upset as me.

  “So you’re just going to leave? That’ll only make things worse,” he points out.

  “I’ll be back,” I tell him. I storm through the small crowd which includes Alex and Leah and push open the door to stand outside. I can hear the music rumbling on the other side of the door once it closes, but the wind soon masks it. I dig my hands into my pockets and feel around for my phone in my dress pants. When I pull it out, I surprisingly have a text message that must’ve gotten skipped over.

  Buzz Ferrari: Save me a dance?

  Fuck yeah! I pump my fist into the air like I just won a baseball game. I guess my homemade cookies and fucking cream gesture at her birthday dinner did make a difference. My excitement slowly dwindles when I hear the door open behind me.

  “Hey, Leah and I saw you cut through to come out here. You alright?” Alex wonders, joining me on the back patio of the cafeteria.

  “Did you see your sister tonight?” I ask, knowing I didn’t answer his question.

  “Yeah, just for a second,” he says shrugging.

  “Did you see her date?” I press, trying with all I can to not throw up at the image. I’m also trying not to freak the fuck out on Alex for not acting like the big brother in this situation. I do not want to have to step in as the big brother to the girl who’s my crush. But I guess that’s why it’s called a crush. Because when they don’t want to be with you it fucking crushes you. And Buzz is crushing me into the tiniest of crumbs.

  “She said she wasn’t his date since they didn’t buy each other flowers and didn’t go out for dinner,” Alex half-laughs. I don’t know if his laugh is from us awkwardly skirting around the real issue between us or if he also thinks that reasoning is bull shit.

  “They walked in together; that’s all that matters,” I mutter under my breath. “Tell me you saw what Chase was doing when they walked in a few minutes ago.”

  “No, I guess not,” he confesses. His expression turns into pure concern. “What happened?”

  “Just the way he was touching her and acting like she was a fucking toy,” I vaguely explain. I’m not sure how it feels for him to hear me talk about his sister being groped; it can’t be much worse than what I’m feeling. He looks kind of nauseous, and I feel bad for causing it but only a little. I need him to care and fucking do something about it.

  “Skyler, she’s growing up. I don’t like guys hanging on her either, but I’ve learned to look the other way,” he tells me. Look the other way? He didn’t do that with me.

  “I’m not going to let him fucking take advantage of her. I won’t let anyone do that, not to her,” I declare, turning away from him and re-entering the cafeteria. Someone needs to fucking care about Buzz, and I should know after all these years it’s going to end up being only me. Going back to where Benny remains, I stand next to him silently until a song partway through the night when Buzz finally approaches me. Since her birthday dinner we still haven’t really talked unless she wants to practice her pitching at the park. It’s not ideal but it’s better than when she was completely shutting me out.

  “Did you get my text?” she asks nervously. She’s fidgeting with her hands, and I totally notice. Not a typical Buzz move.

  “I did,” I reply. I’m not sure if she’s redeeming the saved dance or coming to tease me, so I wait before saying more.

  “Can I have the dance now?” she hopes. Her small, innocent smile is so sexy, and I look beyond her at Chase Morgan standing in a group of guys across the room. He’s watching us carefully and even looks a little jealous to me.

  “Yeah, of course,” I oblige, shooting Benny a quick glare. I hope he knows that means for him to watch out for Chase. Buzz reaches out her hand, and I gladly take it in mine as she starts leading me to the center of the dance floor where couples are scattered about holding each other and barely swaying to the slow music. “Are you having fun at your first homecoming?” I awkwardly ask her quietly as her hands brush the back of my neck and I wrap mine around her waist. My stomach somersaults from feeling her hands on me, but I have to convince myself it’s not real. It’s just a dance, nothing more. Even though it feels perfect, it’s not. She’s here with Chase, not me.

  Nodding, she gives me a pathetically fake smile. “It’s fun. I just always hoped I would be going with you,” she mumbles. Ugh, me too. She’s killing me. I should’ve made it happen despite Chase fucking Morgan.

  “I heard you were going with him before I had the chance to ask you,” I grumble. Her eyes dart up at me in surprise. I think I must’ve caught her off guard by saying I was going to ask her, but that’s not what surprised her.

  “You heard I was going with him? How?” she asks.

  “It’s high school. People talk,” I explain briefly. This doesn’t ease her mind at all. In fact, it sends her into a panic. She begins frantically observing our surroundings as if everyone is still talking about her this second. Before she has the chance to leave me, I blurt out, “In case you haven’t heard from anyone else tonight, you look stunning.”

  Her shimmering eyes have been darting around the room since I said ‘people talk’ but the moment I finish saying ‘stunning’ it’s like her brain melts and stops all messages from being sent. “I’m sorry… what?” Buzz calmly asks. She looks like she was just told she’s going to meet Team USA’s best pitcher, her idol Jennie Finch, and can’t believe it.

  “Buzz, please tell me someone complimented you tonight besides me,” I beg. Even if Chase said something dirty or derogatory, I still want him to at least acknowledge her appearance.

  “Mrs. Young said something when I walked in and gave her my ticket, but I think she was saying it to everyone,” she brushes it off and lowers her head. She’s so close to leaning on me and resting her head on my chest, but I can tell she’s hesitant. We used to be so comfortable with each other. It’s only natural to fall into old habits even if we are kind of fighting and her assfuck-of-a-kind-of-boyfriend is watching us.

  Fuck Chase Morgan for not saying anything to Buzz about how gorgeous she looks. I can’t wait to beat the shit out of him later.

  “Buzz, look at me,” I lightly demand. I wait for her to shyly bring her eyes up to me before I tell her, “You look incredible tonight. Easily the prettiest one here.” I make sure to look her in the eyes so she knows there isn’t an ounce of sarcasm in my compliment. I want her to fucking hear me for once.

  “Thank you,” she whispers. For a moment I can feel that she’s only looking at me, like she forgot that she came here with someone else. It’s the look she’s always given me since we were little kids. With the help of my parents and friends, I always knew Buzz had a crush on me, and my mom taught me from a young age to not tease her about it. Those eyes have never changed the way they’ve fallen on me since we were munchkins.

  “B, if you need anything tonight… a ride or somewhere to sleep, just call me,” I tell her as she tightens her arms around me to pull us closer. She’s barefoot so I’m careful to not step on her toes, but I follow her lead and squeeze her a little more. It feels good to be that close to her again - almost too good though. I don’t want to let her go. But then the moment immediately dies when she runs back to what’s-his-fuck once the song ends.

  15 Bianca Ferrari

  Holy. Swoon. The way Skyler was looking at me while we were slow dancing to “I’ll Be” could make Jennifer Aniston melt at his mercy. I almost forgot that I went to the dance with Chase. Actually I secretly hope he gets amnesia so he’ll forget too and I can spend the rest of the night with Sky. But sadly I know that isn’t going to happen. And surprisingly Chase is a decent date; he isn’t clingy and lets me do my own thing - even dance with Skyler when he hates him - and actually dances with me when I ask, which isn’t that often. When I’m dancing with Skyler, out of the corner of my eye I see Chase staring at us waiting for the song to end so we’ll
stop touching each other.

  As it ends, Skyler leans down and kisses my cheek before whispering, “You look beautiful, B.”

  I bite my lip to keep from grinning too big, but I can’t hide the rush I get when my lifelong crush tells me I look stunning and beautiful within five minutes of each other. Like my facial isn’t obvious, I ask Chase, “What’s wrong?” when I approach him and see a scowl on his face.

  “You know I don’t like him,” he reminds me. That’s pretty much all I heard all summer. I always had to pinch my tongue and divert the conversation elsewhere before we got in a death match; I refused to have an argument over my friendship with Skyler, even if him and I weren’t on the best of terms at the time.

  “We’ve been friends since we were kids. Let it go,” I demand with an eye roll. I drape my arm around his neck and rock back and forth on my barefooted heels. “I came here with you, didn’t I?” I try to say it flirtatiously, but it doesn’t work.

  “Yeah because you’re mad at him!” he snaps, grabbing my wrist and throwing it back at me.

  “Chase!” I exclaim in surprise. I barely have time to catch my own wrist before it’s going to hit me in the face. Luckily I do, but I’m sure it doesn’t look good from an outsider’s perspective. I’m nervous that Skyler is going to see this and come attack Chase, which will make things even worse.

  “What? You’re just using me. You aren’t going to give it up to me because you’re holding out for him,” he blurts out.

  “I’m fifteen. I didn’t think I had to give it up immediately upon stepping foot in high school,” I tell him in a quieter voice.

  When we get to the after party, I have no idea who is hosting it or that my brother and his friends are there until later. I just see tons of alcohol and people from school. The place is a mansion near a horse ranch and the parents must be sleeping or gone for the weekend because the music is shaking the main floor from the basement when I walk inside. I change into spandex and a t-shirt in the bathroom and come out completely dumbfounded when every other girl is wearing a prissy come-hither outfit instead of something casual like mine. Another reason for them to call me butch. Great. Whatever.