Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(100)

“What did you want me to do?” Resentment thickens his tone. “I      can’t change who I am.”

I need to move. Hit something. Throw something. I stand      instead. “Not leave. You said you pretended before. Why couldn’t you pretend      again? Or you could have stayed and fought and, I don’t know, convinced Mom and      Dad to let you stay.”

Mark calmly watches as I pace the length of the narrow room. He      clears his throat. “Someday, you’re going to see how Mom and Dad controlled and      manipulated our lives. You’re going to notice how they made us believe that      their dreams were our dreams. They dictated our every breath. Think about it—do      you have any idea who you are without them?”

Mom sat me next to Gwen last night and she specifically asked      me to take care of Gwen’s needs during the evening. Just like she asked me to      take care of Gwen when I was fifteen. After that first dinner, Mom encouraged me      to ask her out and I did.

But baseball is my choice. It always has been. Dad understands      baseball. Because of that, he’s managed every part of my baseball career: the      coaches, the leagues. Hell, he even stands up to umps. He does it all for      me.

Right?

Mom and Dad’s concerns, all of their pushing, they do it      because they love me. But they flat-out told me not to date Beth, regardless of      my feelings for her, and they expect nothing less than compliance.

“You’re going to wear a hole in my carpet,” Mark says.

No, Mark’s wrong. He has to be wrong. “I’m a good ballplayer.”      I am. The best.

“You are. Dad did that right. He didn’t force us into a sport      we had no talent in. He took his time and found the one sport each of us was      good at. The question is—who are you playing for, Ry? You or Dad?”

Between the door and bunk beds, I freeze. “What is that      supposed to mean?”

“Dad wants perfection. Scratch that. Dad wants perfection on      the outside so everyone else can see it. Mom too. They couldn’t care less if      we’re torn up on the inside as long as the rest of the world envies us.”

Everyone in Groveton assumes Mom and Dad have the perfect      marriage. The homecoming queen married the star quarterback. Behind closed      doors, Mom and Dad hate each other. I thought they’d get over it. Now...

“I’ve learned a lot playing college ball,” Mark says. “What you      do in high school doesn’t mean shit. You can be the best ballplayer in your high      school. The best in the county or state, but when you get to college, you’re      going to meet fifty other guys who can brag the same thing. You’ll meet guys      better than you, stronger than you, faster than you, and then you’re up against      better teams. The world changes when you leave Groveton.”

When I leave Groveton. Decisions need to be made before that      can happen: pros, college, literary competitions, scholarships. “Why are you      telling me this?”

“I wish someone would have told me, but I had to figure it out      on my own. You’re not alone, Ry.”

“Yeah, I am.” And my eyes burn. I close them quickly and suck      in a breath. He left. And Mom and Dad’s marriage is falling apart and everything      I have ever known and loved is disintegrating into ashes.

“I never left you.”

“But you didn’t come home. You never answered my texts.” The      voice falling out of my mouth isn’t my own. It’s strained. Tight. On the verge      of breaking.

“I’m sorry, but you have to understand, until Mom or Dad reach      out to me, I can’t go back. I’ll admit, I left them. But I get it now. I should      have tried harder when it came to you. I should have called. I should have      visited. I messed up, but I swear, I never left you.”

I pull off my cap and run my hand through my hair. He never      left me. Beth’s right—I left him. My throat thickens. “I’ve missed you.” I shake      my head, trying to find a way to say the next words. “I never cared that you’re      gay, but I cared that you...that you left.”

“Yeah.” His voice becomes gruff. “I know. It’s okay, Ry. Me and      you, we’re okay.”

He stands and the action takes me off guard. We’re Stones and      Stone men don’t touch, but the moment he puts his hand on my arm, a tentative      offer, I accept and allow him to pull me into his body. Our arms wind tight      around each other for one brief second. I squint my eyes to combat the tears and      when we release, we both retreat to opposite sides of the room.