Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(12)

“It’s just baseball,” she rushes out.

How can I make her understand? Beyond the fence is a raised      mound, a trail of dirt leading to four bases all surrounded by a groomed green      field. It’s the only place where I’ve felt like I belonged.

“Baseball isn’t just a game. It’s the smell of popcorn drifting      in the air, the sight of bugs buzzing near the stadium lights, the roughness of      the dirt beneath your cleats. It’s the anticipation building in your chest as      the anthem plays, the adrenaline rush when your bat cracks against the ball, and      the surge of blood when the umpire shouts strike      after you pitch. It’s a team full of guys backing your every move, a      bleacher full of people cheering you on. It’s...life.”

The clapping of hands to my right causes me to jump out of my      skin. In pink hair and a matching swimsuit cover-up, my junior English teacher      and soon-to-be senior English teacher stops the annoying sound and raises her      hands to her chin as if in prayer. “That was poetry, Ryan.”

Gwen and I share a what-the-hell look before returning our      stares to Mrs. Rowe. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

She picks her beach bag up off the ground and swings it. “The      pool closed for the night. I saw you and Ms. Gardner and decided to remind the      two of you that your first personal essay is due to me on Monday.”

Gwen’s boots stamp on the ground as she switches legs again. A      month ago, Mrs. Rowe tried to ruin everyone’s vacation with a summer homework      assignment.

“I’m so excited to read them,” she continues. “I’m assuming      you’ve completed yours?”

Haven’t even started. “Yeah.”

Gwen stands and readjusts Mike’s ring on her finger. “I’ve      gotta go.” And she does. Without another word. I shove my hands in my pockets      and rock on my feet, waiting for Mrs. Rowe to follow Gwen’s lead. I’ve got a      ritual to complete.

Obviously having no intention of leaving, Mrs. Rowe leans her      shoulder against the dugout entrance. “I wasn’t kidding about what you said,      Ryan. You showed a lot of talent in my class last year. Between that and what I      just heard, I’d say you have the voice of a writer.”

I snort a laugh. Sure, that class was more interesting than      math, but... “I’m a ballplayer.”

“Yes, and from what I hear, a fine one, but it doesn’t mean you      can’t be both.”

Mrs. Rowe is always looking for a book convert. She even      started a literary club at school last year. My name isn’t on that roster. “I’ve      got a friend waiting for me.”

She glances over her shoulder toward Chris’s truck. “Please      tell Mr. Jones that his paper is also due on Monday.”

“Sure.”

Again I wait for her to leave. Again she doesn’t. She just      stands there. Uncomfortable, I mumble a goodbye and head for the parking      lot.

I try to shake off the irritating itch embedded in my neck, but      I can’t. That moment on the mound is hallowed ground. A need. A must. My mother      calls it a superstition. I’ll call it whatever she wants, but in order for me to      win the next game, I have to stand on that mound again—by myself—and figure out      the mistake I made with my curveball.

If not, it means bad mojo. For the team. For my pitch. For my      life.

With his head tilted back and eyes closed, Chris sits in his      old black Ford. His door hangs wide-open. Chris worked his ass off for that      truck. He plowed his granddaddy’s cornfield this summer in return for a leaky      truck that rolled off the line when we were seven.

“I told you to head home.”

He keeps his eyes closed. “I told you to let the bad throw      go.”

“I did.” We both know I didn’t.

Chris comes to life, closes the door, and turns over the motor.      “Hop in. We’ve got a party to go to that will make you forget.”

“I’ve got a ride.” I motion to my Jeep, parked next to his      truck.

“My goal is to make sure you ain’t gonna be fit to drive home.”      He revs the engine to keep it from stalling out. “Let’s go.”





Chapter 6

Beth

OFFICER MONROE PUSHES OFF the wall the moment I slip out of the girls’ bathroom. “Beth.”