Waiting on the Sidelines (Waiting on the Sidelines #1)(60)

I grabbed his hand and smiled at him, nudging his shoulder with mine. “I know. You’re a good guy, Sean.”

He stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. I followed him out the door to the hallway to the locker room entrances. My mind was tumbling between this new information and the anger that still brewed in me over Reed’s words and behavior. No matter what my tangled heart was feeling, I still didn’t want to see Reed throw his future away. He was so gifted. And I didn’t want to see him disappoint Buck.

“Hey, Sean?” I stopped him before he got inside the door. “Would you let me know how it goes? I just…need to know he’s ok. Just let me know?”

He smiled tight-lipped and nodded once, heading inside.

I finished another game, packed my stuff and escaped before the rest of the team showed up, avoiding Reed like I had done all week. My phone was buzzing as I got out of my shower and noticed I had a text from Tyler.



What are your plans for 4th?



I sent back:



I got nothing



I wasn’t sure where this was going, and I wasn’t sure where I wanted it to go.



Wanna see a baseball game? Todd has suite tickets. We’re playing the Dodgers.



How could I resist that.



I’m in.



I loved baseball, and there would be a group of us again. It felt safe.



OK, I’ll pick you up around 4. We want to get there early enough for the free T-shirts J



I wrote back:



I love free T-shirts!



And it was refreshing to see the embarrassingly awkward Nolan make an appearance again. I tossed my phone on my bed and went into the living room to join my dad for a little dinner in front of the TV. My mom was working late, so dad made chili. I loved these nights, even though I looked forward to my mom coming home. There was something special about watching reruns of old sitcoms with my dad over his greasy chili.

Mom came home around 10, and I gave her a big kiss and decided to call it a night. I was exhausted from my hours of play at the gym and getting up early was making me go to bed earlier and earlier. I checked my phone one more time before plugging it in to charge and noticed another text alert. It was Sean.



I told him. It did not go well. He made me drive him to her house. He confronted her, called her some shit, threw a few things, broke a few things, and then we came back to Buck’s. He’s drinking again. A lot. Buck’s in Tucson. I’m worried.



I sat there and read his note a few times, wondering what to do. I pushed the phone aside and turned my light off, lying down on my bed. There was nothing I could do, but I couldn’t get Sean’s worry out of my own mind. I looked at my phone again and noted the time stamp. It said 8:30. Two hours ago.

A few more minutes passed before I decided I needed to know how the night ended.



Sorry, just got this. Was with my dad. Everything ok?



I waited, and waited. Almost 30 minutes passed before I heard from Sean again.



Yes. He passed out a little bit ago. I got him upstairs. I’m in the spare room. He’s wrecked. Buck comes home in the morning. I just hope he can hold it together for the party.



I took a deep breath and shut my eyes tightly. I hated the spiral Reed was on. And I just couldn’t seem to make sense out of the version of him I was so intimate with just a few weeks ago. This new him was so destructive and hateful.



Let me know if I can do anything. Thank you, Sean.



I put my phone on my desk and decided I had to stop.



I don’t remember what I dreamt, but I know I woke up every few hours feeling like I needed to cry but nothing would come out. I tried waiting in the bathroom to be sick, but nothing happened there either. I wandered my tiny house in the dark a few times before making my way back to my bedroom and forcing myself asleep again and again. I woke up for the final time at 6, exhausted.

On autopilot, I put on a pair of running shorts and slid my feet into my tennies. I was never much of a long-distance runner, but something in me felt like my body needed it this morning. I drank a giant glass of water in the kitchen and left my parents a note on the counter. They always slept in late on Saturdays; it was their one day.

I laced my shoes tightly on the porch and jumped down to the gravel. I started a slow pace down my small road and ran along the desert trail along the side of the main road all the way into town. I would guess I made it about four miles by the time I got to the school. I was breathing hard and needed water badly. I snuck through a small space in the fence and made my way to the drinking fountain by the baseball field, taking a good drink.

I crawled back out and walked a few blocks through town getting my breath back. I don’t know how I ended up at Tatum’s house, but there it was. I saw her car in the driveway and noted that all the lights were off. Before I knew it I was lightly knocking on the front door. When the gravity of what I was doing hit me, it was too late and her face was staring right back at me.

She looked fine. Like nothing had ever happened. There was no evidence of spending all night crying (I was well acquainted with what that looked like). She just sighed and put her hand on her hip, looking at me.

“What?” she seemed annoyed.