Full Count (The Catcher Series Book 1)
Page 27
He slithers his way closer to me and whispers, “You called me Skyler.”
“I know,” I admit, biting my lip to keep from giggling. I want to try distinguishing between being best friends in public and best friends in private. After closing my eyes and resting into his hold on me, I think aloud, “It’s crazy to think that our only options in the future are to break up or get married.”
“Our only option is to get married. I said that before,” he reminds me with a squeeze that makes me jump. It definitely felt like he was going to tickle me.
“I know… but it’s still crazy to think about,” I tell him. I’m only sixteen. The idea of growing up is still so massive to me, but at seventeen Skyler seems so certain.
The smell of fresh pancakes wakes me up the next morning, and I know Skyler and I have slept in for too long. We’re going to have to bullshit some story about why he is up here so early when no one has seen him in six hours.
“Sky,” I whisper, lifting my head while the rest of me still curves into his body. We’ve slept in the same bed countless nights in recent weeks, but waking up to him this morning is different. We’re together now.
“It’s too early,” he grumbles into my hair. It’s the first thing he says to me every single morning I wake up at his house, and usually it makes me laugh. In this instance, I know we are about to be toast for breakfast.
“Sky, we aren’t at your house,” I caution him.
“Fuck, that’s right,” he recalls, dragging his hand across my waist and stopping once he reaches the end of the t-shirt. Slithering his hand underneath it and onto my cold skin, he adds, “But you are in my shirt, aren’t you?”
My breath catches as he nears my boob, but he somehow refrains from touching it. This is torturous. “Yes… do you want it back?” I wonder. It’s one of his Red Devil baseball shirts that only the players have from one of their conference tournaments. It’s a dead giveaway to everyone that something happened last night between me and Sky if they see me wearing it.
“No. You look sexy as fuck in it,” he compliments me.
My chest tingles at my lifelong crush and now boyfriend calling me sexy as fuck. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this.
Then he sighs in major disgust. “But throw a sweatshirt over it for now because we have to go downstairs and put on a killer sitcom so our asses don’t get grounded. Gimme one of your Rockets shirts to wear.”
We embrace problem-solving mode rather quickly, and after we are both dressed in apparel that appears to be our own even though we know they aren’t, I start to follow Skyler towards the door. He hesitates to open it. I watch him spin around and reach one of his hands to the back of my head to give me a mini massage. I’m loving this head massage thing he’s still doing.
“You’re fucking beautiful when you wake up, you know that?” he flatters me.
He’s seen me wake up numerous times and never commented on my appearance before. I haven’t touched my hair, but I can still smell the hairspray in it so I’m fairly certain it doesn’t look too different from last night at the dance. My makeup is completely off, some probably smeared since I never get it all the way off, but I can feel that it doesn’t matter. He’s seeing more than just my physical beauty.
He just called me sexy as fuck and beautiful in a matter of being awake for not even five minutes. I must still be dreaming.
My cheeks heat from all the feelings he just used to overwhelm me as I politely say, “Thank you,” reaching for the bottom of my shirt he is wearing. It’s so tight on him, but it’s the biggest Rockets’ shirt that I own. They were last Rockets when I was fourteen.
He leans in and places a kiss on my forehead, and it makes a chill shoot down my head to my spine. “You’re mine now, Buzz,” he reminds me as if I could have forgotten our initiation of becoming a kind of official couple last night. We’re still a secret so it’s a little weird, but his possessive statement assures me. When I tilt my head up at him he’s like the night sky in the middle of a country field - overwhelmingly filled with brightness and making me so happily lost in the sight.
“Okay,” I reply stupidly. And then to my surprise he pushes the back of my head so our lips meet for an elongated kiss; it’s really a mini make out session. When we pull apart I question him, “What was that for?”
“That was in case I don’t get to kiss you for a while… ya know, if we get in trouble,” he answers.
“Us against them, who wins?” I grin slyly.
“Us, every time,” he tells me with his one-of-a-kind Skyler half-assed smolder as he pinches my waist to kick start our departure.
I follow him out my door and into the hallway to our grand staircase. I have slid down this so many times on Sunday mornings just so I can be the first one to my dad’s pancake breakfast. When I grab the railing, it creaks and immediately gives me away to Skyler.
“B, no,” he scolds, stepping near the railing and guiding me away from it. I think he’s the only person I ever consider listening to when he tells me “no”, probably because it’s a rare occurrence compared to everyone else.
“I’ve done it before. I just want to make a grand entrance,” I whine.
“To what, the golden gates? If you don’t want to walk, hop on my back and I’ll carry you,” he proposes. It’s a compromise that makes me happy, so I grab his shoulders, make him turn back around, and jump up onto his back. I forget we’re on the stairs, so he stumbles forward and catches himself on the next one as I giggle and hold on tightly. “Jesus,” he groans, reaching one arm out to hold onto the railing and the other to hold onto me.
At the bottom of the stairs Sky lets me down, and when we appear in the kitchen, only my dad is in the room cooking. He doesn’t even see us as we enter. My mom must still be sleeping like she usually does on weekends. No one else is in sight.
“Did we miss breakfast?” I ask, startling my dad by the stove. He jumps and makes a Tom Cruise in Risky Business move across the hardwood floor using the spatula as his microphone.
“No. You’re early. Go wake up everyone else,” he orders in a song.
His eyebrows raise to us since we haven’t moved, spoken, or applauded his show. So Skyler and I exchange a weary look. Did we really just get away with this? This was too easy.
Calling everyone for breakfast from the top of the stairs is less stressful than facing a roomful of our somewhat unforgiving friends and siblings without a buffer. Pancakes and my dad are serving as such this morning, and I’m so thankful.
Baylee and Tiffany take the lead from the basement and into the kitchen, claiming seats on either side of me. Skyler approaches the table carefully, completely preparing for the ambush we expect. Everyone takes seats like usual: girls on one side of the table, the boys weighing down the other, besides Leah who has to be glued to Rex’s side. I’m nervous for Skyler. Last time we were ambushed separately, we didn’t talk for a week. He glances up at me and gives me a quick wink before appeasing Rex, Benny, and Sam who start a conversation with him. I instantly feel better.
My mind drifts back to being in bed with Skyler. His remaining Luke Bryanesque cologne lingering in the air, his breath on my bare skin, his hands caressing me like a Victoria’s Secret commercial. Such a luxurious daydream, and then BAM!
“Bianca!” Tiffany shrieks, shaking me back to reality. Damn it, Tiff.
“What? What’s your problem?” I ask. I feel a knot in my stomach for wording my response so rudely. But I still get nauseous when someone yells in such close proximity to me.
“Hey, don’t yell at her,” Skyler scolds Tiffany, immediately tailing my reaction to her shouting my name. He’s pissed. And it makes Rex and Sam stop talking for a moment to look at what Skyler is freaking out about.
“She was staring right at me but wasn’t responding,” she mumbles angrily at him. Their sibling-like banter always provides for great entertainment, but her attitude flips when it’s my turn. She looks at me and quietly replies, “Never mind.”
>
“No, what? I’m sorry. My mind just drifted,” I apologize, trying not to look at Skyler who I see out of the corner of my eye. He’s totally fucking trying to hide his boyish smirk. He knows exactly where I let my mind go.
“I just wanted to know if you had fun last night. You were so quiet,” Tiffany asks me, a chunk of her bright blonde hair falling in front of her face as she leans over to eat a pancake.
“I was making up for the music being so loud,” I chuckle. “I had fun though.”
Leah’s eyes continually ping pong around the room like she’s nervous to be here. I’m beginning to wonder if she’ll ever try to fit in with us when she blurts out, “So Bianca, where did you and Skyler run off to last night?”
Really?! No one even freaking noticed we left or were gone this morning, and the dumb bitch has to bring it up? Unbelievable. Everyone stops talking to focus on my answer. I don’t even look in the direction of all the boys staring at me.
“Skyler took me to my room so I wouldn’t get kicked in the head in the middle of the night,” I tell her, which I have to imagine was his actual reason for carrying me two flights of stairs - not to fool around with me like we ended up doing.
“I do tend to be kind of wild when I sleep,” Tiffany backs me up, furthering the truth behind my story. She owes Skyler and me from last night when she interrupted our conversation at the dance about being together. I’m a little surprised though; she knows we’re “together” and hasn’t blabbed yet. We don’t even have a deal with her to keep quiet. I need to remember to make one.
“Anything to protect Bianca,” Leah mutters under her breath, complete with an eye roll.
Uhh does she really think I can’t hear her? Wow. Bitch.
Before I can react, Skyler steps up for me, which is good because I probably wouldn’t have said anything. I just bow my head to ignore her. “Um yes, that’s exactly what this is,” he tells her and motions to everyone around the table like we’re a cult. “And if you don’t like it you can get the fuck out.”
“Skyler!” Rex snaps, throwing his arm over Leah’s chest like they’re stopping suddenly in a car. I guess he has the same protective instinct as Skyler has with me.
“Hey!” Benny tries butting in to back up Team Skyluzz with the meanest eyes I’ve ever seen him glare at his twin. Sky won’t even let him speak, though.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Did you not hear what your fucking girlfriend just said about your sister?” Skyler shouts.
“She just-” Rex tries, but Skyler is not having it.
“There’s no fucking excuse to say something like that! Both of you shut the fuck up,” Sky demands, pushing his chair out so he can leave the situation and I assume go to his own house, leaving me in the most uncomfortable room in my life.
I glance at Benny and Sam from across the table and both of their eyes are almost out of their heads. They smartly decide to remain silent - right now saying anything without starting World War III is impossible - but they do send me apologetic looks that I have to appreciate. My dad is behind me, so I can’t see his reaction to this. I hear him lightly throwing things into the sink and then see Rex’s guilty-as-fuck expression as my dad’s heavy footsteps grow quieter while he walks down the hallway and back upstairs. They all know Rex and Leah are in the wrong. Dad will yell at him later, not in front of everyone. Baylee looks like she’s about to cry; she loved Leah, probably just up until this moment. Tiffany looks ready to slap her, and Sam apparently doesn’t care enough to act like he’s heard a thing because his head is now down looking at his breakfast.
And Leah looks like Gretchen Weiners telling Regina George she can’t sit with them because she’s too fat to wear anything but sweatpants.
My heart is pulling me to follow Skyler, but I know I can’t. He needs his space, and I don’t want anyone talking more shit behind our backs. So I awkwardly stay at the table, nibbling on my pancakes, totally silent.
Leah tries talking again, focusing more on Baylee, someone she can clearly stand, unlike me. “Bay, what did you do last night?” Leah pries all innocently.
Rex finally tells her to shut up. “Leah-” he acknowledges her. When she looks at him he shakes his head as if to say “stop.” The rest of breakfast is dead silent except for the clinking of our silverware to our plates.
32 Skyler Swanson
Leah is such a fucking bitch. I have no idea what Alex fucking sees in her. I can’t believe what she says at the breakfast table, and after calling her out on it, I have to leave. I do feel bad for leaving Buzz in this fucked up situation with Leah, but I would do something I regret if I didn’t get myself out. Never mind that no one asks where I slept last night; dodged a bullet there. But I had no problem with Leah prior to this morning. Sure, she’s set me up with her friends a few times, most successfully Makenna, but they were mostly harmless. So I don’t know what fucking possessed her to run her bitchface mouth like that.
Directly from the Ferraris’ house, I drive to the batting cages so I can take out my frustration. I keep my baseball gear in my Jeep for moments like this when I want to play baseball immediately - which happens a lot.
The batting cages are outside so I get to experience one of our last nice days of fall before the snow starts coming down in a few weeks. I pay and enter a cage and just start swinging. The first ten balls are Leah’s head, the next two are Alex’s. Eventually they’re just baseballs, and I’m only swinging for myself.
Once the machine stops, I pack up my bag and drive to the high school baseball diamond where I can enjoy the one place where I truly feel at home. I sit with my back against the backstop facing the perfectly trimmed field and sit alone like this for a while, enjoying my favorite view from behind the plate. When I hear a car pull up behind me, I turn over my shoulder and see that it’s Alex, Benny, and Sam.
At least Alex is fucking smart enough to bring buffers.
When they approach the field, Alex says, “I’m sorry Leah was a bitch this morning.”
“What, was she mad you haven’t fucked her yet?” I tease, knowing very well that they lost their virginity to each other before the summer even started. To be honest, I can’t believe he lost it before me and Buzz, but I know Leah can be demanding.
“It’s just been a while,” Alex admits, throwing his bag on the ground by the fence.
“Then fucking lay her so she stops being such a bitch,” I demand, standing up to meet them on the field.
“When I lay my girlfriend is none of your business,” he points out. I’ll remember that when he finds out about me and his sister and he freaks the fuck out.
“I don’t care when you fucking lay her. Just do it so she leaves your sister alone,” I shout. As I step back to walk away from them, I add under my breath, “I can’t believe you can date such a witch.”
“Sky, it was the first mean thing she’s ever said like that,” Alex softens his voice to try to reason with me. Like usual, Benny and Sam have been standing to the side silently, letting me and Alex fight it out. I wish one of them would be on my side and stand up to Alex, too, like Benny tried doing at breakfast. I guess since I yelled over him he thinks I don’t need him.
“Yeah, well she chose the wrong person to say it to,” I tell him.
As I head to my car I hear an echo in my footsteps. Sure enough, Benny is trailing me and stops me when I open the trunk to my Jeep.
“Look, we all care about Bianca - no one as much as you, obviously - but you need to relax,” Benny suggests, stepping in front of me so I can’t throw my bag in the back.
“It’s bad enough that Beth rags at Buzz as much as she does. I don’t need Alex’s girlfriend doing it, too,” I explain, still trying to shove past him with no success. He’s pushing my bag, and subsequently me, away from my trunk.
“You don’t need it or B doesn’t?” he questions my motives.
“Both. We all know Buzz won’t make a scene no matter what is said to her. So yeah, I don’t need to watch her iso
late herself from the world even more. Excuse me for giving a flying fuck about her,” I banter, finally conceding and throwing my hands above my head as my bag drops to the ground.
“Leah just needs to cool off. She’s mad that Alex has been focusing more on Bianca than her lately,” Benny speculates.
“Selfish bitch,” I mutter.
“It’s the same way you’ve been focusing on her more than anyone else, too. Lay off,” he warns. Then he reaches down and grabs my bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “Come play with us. We got some more guys from the team coming, so we can all forget about this morning for a while.”
By the end of the pick up game the tension between me and Alex has mostly subsided. Benny makes sure we’re on opposite teams just in case, but we playfully trash talk each other when I’m batting and he’s pitching. He hates pitching when I’m not catching for him, so he knows our disagreement can’t last long.
“Hey!” he calls after me when we’re packing up our cars later in the afternoon. I look over at him behind his CRV filling the trunk with his gear. “Leah was out of line. But it was my fault. I’ll take care of it,” he promises.
“I won’t apologize for sticking up for Buzz,” I sigh, letting him know there isn’t going to be a returned apology.
“I don’t want you to,” he tells me, and we exchange a hand slap and a tap on the back kind of manly hug before departing ways. It’s almost as if he likes how I defend his sister. But I know that’s in my head; he doesn’t really want me with her.
I’m so exhausted from the weekend that I fell asleep before Sportscenter was even over. In the middle of the night my phone vibrates and chirps to alert me of a text message since I forgot to turn it on vibrate only. My eyes are foggy, but I manage to make out the typed words.
Buzz Ferrari: I haven’t heard from you since you bolted this morning…
Fuck. I never called or texted her to make sure she was okay after breakfast. I already suck at the boyfriend part of our relationship.