Rounding Third

by Michelle Lynn

  Brax rises from his squatting position and throws the ball to Crosby, hard. Crosby throws it to Saucey, who throws it to second base, who gets it to Oliver, and then it goes back to Brax. They’re working like a team, and I wish the joy that I feel because Crosby has found his place again didn’t take residence in my heart. These boys are thoughtful and caring. He’ll never escape Ridgemont without forming a few friendships.

  “So?” Jen’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

  I look over at her and then back on the field.

  “We were eighteen and agreed to separate.” I can’t hide the crack in my voice.

  “Why? Wanted independence? Not be committed when you went to college?”

  I wish. More like we were brokenhearted from being together.

  I look over at her once more. For a moment, I see Kedsey. Maybe I’ve never given Jen a fair chance to be close to me. I shame Crosby for not letting people in, but I’ve kept Jen at arm’s length. Being her savior helped me seem perfect in her eyes—until Crosby arrived.

  “We were in a car accident. Our friends”—I stop, inhaling a deep breath—“died.”

  A low, “Oh,” echoes through the still of the air.

  And I’m transported to the hospital room when Crosby told me.

  The boys had won the state championship. Between Braxton, Crosby, and Noah, our team was unstoppable. My best friend, Kedsey, and I waited for the bus to return to school. After the boys got off, Crosby and Noah barreled over to us. Crosby and I had been a couple for two years, almost as long as Noah and Kedsey. Braxton went off with a few of the other teammates, and Crosby asked me for the keys.

  The boys were on cloud nine, and their happiness was contagious to Kedsey and me. We climbed into my Honda Civic, and Noah and Kedsey’s lips immediately locked.

  “Can you please wait until we get up to the hill?” Crosby joked. He crashed his lips to mine at the red light.

  The horns honked behind us, and a pickup full of their teammates swerved around us.

  “You guys are whipped!” they screamed.

  Crosby looked over at me. “And proud of it,” he said. He kissed me again before gunning the engine.

  “Shit, man, slow it down!” Noah hollered, taking his mouth off Kedsey for a few seconds.

  “Why don’t we drop them off and go back to my house? My parents are probably sleeping already,” I whispered to Crosby.

  “Fuck no. You know Kedsey’s mom stays up until she returns, and she’s got damn cameras around that house. I need my girl tonight,” Noah spoke up.

  Kedsey giggled her agreement. “Come on, guys. Have some mercy on us,” she added.

  Crosby shrugged. “We’ll have fun,” he assured me as he squeezed my knee.

  We got to the hill, and immediately, Noah and Kedsey snuck away.

  That was the point of the hill. Teenagers would go up there, sneak into hidden dark areas, and have sex or drink. All four of us had done both, but tonight, I was only interested in spending time with Crosby. During baseball season, it was always hard to find time for one another.

  With us graduating and off to college next year, our time was drawing to a close. Crosby had gotten a scholarship to Vanderbilt, and Kedsey and Noah were both going to attend State while Braxton and I were going to go to Ridgemont. Although Crosby and I would be separated, we were going to try the long-distance thing.

  “Congratulations.” I knocked his shoulder.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. He kissed the top of my head. “Thanks, babe.”

  “That double play in the ninth was awesome. You and Noah make such a great team.”

  “Yeah. Too bad it was our final game together.” He looked down at me, a gleam in his eyes. “Until the majors, that is.”

  We laughed. All of them dreamed of going pro, but they knew how fortunate they’d be if one of them made it to the top.

  Crosby led me through the trees to our spot that overlooked the plant. White steam rose through the night air from third shift. Half of the town was probably down there working right now.

  “I love you, Ella,” he said, referring to my nickname from when I was in grade school.

  “I love you.” I looked up at him, adoring those chocolate browns.

  We sat in silence for what seemed like forever until Crosby picked me up and put me between his legs. I turned around to straddle his lap, and his hands molded to my ass, rubbing back and forth along my jeans.

  I started nibbling on his neck. Quickly, he was on his back, and I was lying on top of him, grinding along his hardness. We’d had sex numerous times before, but the atmosphere tonight was different. Crosby held my eyes the entire time he rocked in and out of me. Even though we weren’t fully unclothed in case anyone ventured near, it was the most intimate time I’d felt with him.

  After we finished, we buttoned up. He lay on his back, and I snuggled up to him. As we stared up at the sky, the what-ifs weighed heavily on us, the promise of our future looming overhead.

  “I promise, Ella.” His voice cracked. “I promise I won’t let anything get between us.”

  He was the optimist, and I was the pessimist.

  My words at the time still haunt me.

  “You can’t promise, Cros. How many couples before us have said the same thing?”

  “Stop saying that shit. We’re different.” He didn’t say it to me though. He said it to the night sky, as though he were wishing it on the stars above us.

  I stood and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my head on his back that rose and fell with deep intakes of breath. “I’m sorry. I can’t stand the thought of it. I figure, if I’m pessimistic but we make it, it will be all that much better.”

  A tear fell down to his T-shirt, and he swung around, wrapping me in his arms.

  “We need to be strong, and we’ll make it. We’ll get through college. You’ll be my team physician one day, and we’ll never be separated again.”

  I laughed at him putting our dream professions together. I was going to be pre-med starting in the fall, and he was going to major in business, but we both knew he was hoping for the baseball call.

  He took my face in his hands and peered down at me with determined eyes. “So, listen to me, eyes ahead.”

  I nodded at him giving me his father’s tagline.

  “Eyes ahead,” I confirmed with a firm nod and a smile.

  My alarm went off on my phone, signaling it was eleven thirty, so we needed to start wrapping up to get home before curfew.

  “Time goes by so fast,” he said, wrapping his hand around mine and leading me back toward the car.

  Kedsey’s phone must have gone off because she and Noah were waiting at the car, looking like they thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

  “Let’s go. Kedsey’s mom called, and she’s about to call you.” Noah pointed to me, and at the same time, my phone rang.

  I pulled it out of my pocket, noticing Kedsey’s home phone number. “Hi, Mrs. Bishop. Yep, we’re on our way home. Having a bite with the boys after the game. Sure will. Yep. Bye, Mrs. Bishop.”

  I shook my head at Noah. “She sure doesn’t like you,” I commented as we climbed back into the car.

  “Ever since she caught me in her house one night, I swear, the woman has hated me.” Noah held his hands up in the air.

  “Dickhead, you were half-naked with your dick in Kedsey,” Crosby mentioned what Noah had failed to.

  We all laughed.

  “You should have seen her face of horror. Like I was stark naked, requesting her pussy.”

  Kedsey slapped Noah on the shoulder.

  “Ouch. You know it’s true. I mean, we’re two hot-blooded teenagers. Who’d be surprised we were fucking?”

  He held his hands up, so she smacked his stomach.

  “She’s my mother and supposed to believe in my virtue,” Kedsey chimed in.

  We all laughed again.

  “Sorry, babe. I took that virtue as soon as you sucked me off.�
��

  Crosby held his hand up in the air. “Okay, way too much info, dude.” He glanced over at me and winked.

  I was like a cat, wanting more of whatever he was going to give me. I loved this guy.

  “Let’s get Kedsey home before you never get sucked off again,” I added.

  Crosby rolled his eyes.

  We pulled out of the gravel path overlooking our small town, and Crosby turned down the road. We drove for a while, singing and dancing to “Thrift Shop” by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. Kedsey unbuckled herself and leaned forward to sing the chorus with me.

  We held the future in our hands. The boys were state champs, and we were going to college.

  Then, Crosby slammed on the brakes, the car swerved, and soon, everything went black.

  I found out later that I’d been unconscious for a good part of a day.

  When I opened my eyes, Crosby was at my bedside, pacing back and forth, nibbling on his lip, like he did when he was nervous. A bandage was wrapped on the right side of his forehead. Scratches were on his face, and his left arm was in a sling.

  “Hey,” I said, pulling him away from whatever was bothering him. I moved my hand, only to find a needle stuck in it. “What? Where are we?” I mumbled. I noticed the white sheets, white floor, and the turned off television hanging on the wall next to a dry-erase board stating my name and my doctor. My doctor? “Oh my God!” I screamed.

  Crosby rushed over, grabbing my hand. “Calm down, baby. The accident?” he questioned, as though I should remember.

  I didn’t. I remembered singing “Thrift Shop” with Kedsey’s cheek pressed along mine as we did our own rendition. Then, it all flashed in my eyes—the headlights, the squealing of tires.

  He gripped my hand harder now, using both of his hands, and I saw it in his eyes before the words left his mouth.

  “Noah and Kedsey…”

  I shook my head. If he didn’t say it, it wasn’t true.

  “They didn’t make it,” he finished.

  A loud scream shattered in the room.

  Nurses, my parents, and Crosby’s parents rushed into the room. Instantly, tears streamed down my face, and my body started to shake. Crosby climbed into the bed, ignoring the nurses’ protests. He held my head to his chest, and the sound of his beating heart calmed me until my body’s shakes were small trembles. My mom’s hand smoothed down my hair, and the two of them whispered how everything would be okay, but things were far from okay.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jen says next to me.

  I shrug, as though attending your friends’ funerals at the start of your adulthood isn’t a big deal. Like I have it all together, but I am displacing, like the therapist nagged.

  “Crosby and I were in the car,” I continue. My heart tugs on me, saying, Don’t give our secrets away. It only opens us up to hurt. Ignoring my heart’s pleas, I say, “Crosby was the driver, and we were both emotionally wrecked afterward.” My lips turn up, not meaningful though. “No pun intended.”

  “Man, El, I don’t know what to say, other than I’m sorry.”

  Jen wraps her arms around my shoulders, but I don’t want her comfort. I glance to the field in time to see Crosby’s eyes on me, and then a ball hits him in the arm.

  “Fuck!” he screams.

  All faces look over at him.

  “What are you gawking at?” Brax steps up, pushing his mask up to the top of his forehead.

  It’s as though the two of them can sense that I’m giving up a secret we’ve buried. They share a look of understanding with each other, and Brax nods his head to Crosby.

  “Oh, boy.” I slide over like I’m a teenager whose dad found me making out under the bleachers.

  “What?” Jen looks over her shoulder and then stands up. “Oh.”

  A second later, Crosby’s cleats tap on the concrete step until I smell his masculine scent next to me. How can one smell make you want to climb onto someone’s lap and bury your face into their neck?

  “What’s going on?” he asks.

  “You should be out there.” I point to the field where someone else is filling in for Crosby.

  “No, I should be here.”

  “Jen asked about you, and I told her the story. Not the gory details, just the basics,” I divulge, sitting on my hands which I’ve put under my thighs to stop myself from touching him.

  “Oh.” An exasperated, long sigh releases out of his mouth. “Are you okay?”

  I rock back and forth. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  He slides to the bench in front of me. Facing me, he places his hands on my knees. “Look at me,” he demands.

  I slowly move my eyes up to his face.

  “There’s my blue-eyed beauty.” He smiles.

  I shake my head. “I’m not your girl yet.”

  “You sick of living in the dark?” he asks.

  I tilt my head, unsure of his meaning.

  “I talked with the girl at the newspaper today. She seems pretty cool and won’t twist the story.”

  “You want the looks after everyone knows what happened?”

  “If it heals us and gets us to move into the future, yes. I’m not sure us ignoring it all this time was good.”

  Ignore? I’ve been through a year’s worth of therapy.

  “What’s with the change?”

  “Lynch!” Coach Lipton screams from the field.

  Crosby turns around. “Sorry, Coach. I’ll be right there.” He turns back to face me. “Dinner tonight? We’ll talk.” He stands up, walking a few steps.

  “Okay,” I agree on something I shouldn’t.

  He jogs away but calls over to me. “Ella?”

  “Yeah?” I swivel to see him standing right at the tunnel.

  “You’ll always be my girl.” He winks that eye of his.

  I wish my girlie parts didn’t zing in exhilaration, but I wish more that his words didn’t pry open my heart, taking residence in the spot he’d claimed at fifteen.

  I concentrate and watch Crosby run back onto the field before fist-bumping Brax. Girls in the front row finally turn away from the spectacle Crosby made, and Jen hands me a silver flask.

  “What? Where?”

  “Oh, shh. Just drink.”

  I tentatively sip and hand it back to her, the alcohol burning my throat the whole way down. When Crosby crosses my mind again, I grab the flask from her hands again and down a sip.

  “Whoa, girl!”

  Jen kidnaps it back, and we have a short tug-of-war until a deep voice speaks next to me, “Hey.”

  I look over to find Spencer sitting on the bench.

  “I should have figured you’d be here.” I knock my shoulder with his, and a pink flush hits his cheeks. Maybe it’s because the last time I saw him, he was on top of my sister in the dormitory lounge.

  “I need to show that brotherly support.” As if they have a telepathic connection, he waves, and I find Crosby nodding his head in Spencer’s direction.

  “Where’s my sister?”

  “She’s out with her roommate. They are supposed to be here before it starts.”

  He props his feet up on the bench in front of us.

  “Oh, nice. Will we make him nervous, or does he still thrive on showing off?” I ask.

  His eyes glimmer that devilish tinge that Crosby’s do. “Still loves showing off. He’s a better player with an audience.”

  We share a smile before two fingers pinch my leg.

  “Ouch!”

  I glance to Jen, her eyes silently asking who Spencer is.

  “Oh, sorry. Spencer, this is my roommate, Jen. Jen this is Spencer, Crosby’s brother.”

  She stands up and wiggles between us, wedging her butt until we ultimately slide apart.

  “He’s also my sister’s boyfriend,” I add.

  She stands back up to her feet and goes to the spot she left. “Damn, you have that same sexy appeal as your brother. Those seductive eyes and broad shoulders. Add the hands that I can imagine—”

&n
bsp; “Okay, let’s leave it at that.” I hold my hand up to her face, and surprisingly, she stops.

  The boys huddle in front of the dugout, and after they do their chant, everyone starts cheering as they disperse to their designated field positions.

  Watching Crosby a few steps in front of third, squatting, his whole attention on the batter, brings back that schoolgirl crush. I remember how he’d wink my way with every good play, as though it were meant for me.

  My attention isn’t on the game but rather on Crosby. The way his muscles flex and how his arm extends as he jets the ball to first base, getting their first out of the game. My breathing halts in my throat as I wait for him to look up in the stands and give me his classic wink, but he only squats back down and focuses on the next batter. My stomach drops as I realize that this isn’t high school anymore. We aren’t the same couple we were, and we’ll never be that again.

  The Tigers get three outs, and no runs have been scored when it’s their turn at bat.

  Crosby steps up first.

  “They’re batting him first?” I whisper, my disbelief pouring out.

  “Yeah, can you believe it? Their first game, and he’s leading off,” Spencer chimes in next to me.

  “I honestly can’t.”

  The Tigers have a good handful of top-notch players who will most likely get called up to farm teams or the minors once they finish school. Even Mike, the third baseman from last year, left before graduating because the Cardinals had given him an offer. I can’t help but wonder what Crosby dreams of. If this is a good year for him, he could very well go into the system.

  As I contemplate our future—if there is one—Ariel walks over with her blonde roommate, Brooke. I only met her on move-in day, and truthfully, she seemed like a boy-crazed, who-cares-about-my-studies kind of girl. Someone I’m not too keen on my sister hanging around with.

  Ariel gives Spence a short kiss and looks over at me. “Hey, sis. How’s he doing?”

  “He’s doing great and about to bat. You should sit down and watch the game,” I dictate.

  Her lips straighten before she sits down next to Spencer. Brooke is talking loudly on her phone, cracking her gum at the end of every sentence.

  “Brooke, mind going somewhere else?” Spencer asks, pointing to the ball field.