The Newcomer (Thunder Point #2)(61)

“You can’t tell Mac about this conversation,” Landon said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Cooper said.

“Or Sarah.”

“Or Sarah,” he repeated. “Now here’s what you do, son. You’re both, what? Sixteen?”

“We’re both seventeen this summer. Eve’s seventeen in July.”

“Right. You’re looking at your senior year and right around the corner will be college. Yep. Here’s what you do—you make sure you’re protected. Safe. Both of you. Just in case, you know, you get a little crazy. I’m assuming you have—”

“I’m good....”

“Well, that’s one of you,” Cooper said thoughtfully. They met eyes for a long moment.

Then Landon turned his chair back toward the ocean. They both put their feet up again. And Landon said, “So. How about those Yankees?”

Cooper laughed. “You know what, Landon, old man? I think you need an after-school job. And a summer job. Keep you out of trouble while Sarah’s working.”

“That’s a good idea. You pay anything?”

“We’ll negotiate if we have to,” he said.

* * *

The Oregon Dispatch was a regional newspaper that came out once a week and covered news from the many small towns in Coos County. There were also coupons for local businesses and groceries—a dying tradition as people could download many of these coupons from their computers. But when there was exciting local news or big events, the Dispatch was always there. And this week there was a news story from Oregon State University and Thunder Point. It was rumored that Crawford Downy was going to be a first round major league draft pick. A freshman! A couple of scouts had admitted he was a hot property and if he continued to play as well as he had been, he’d be in the majors in no time at all.

Yes, this was the boy who was one of the favorite sons of the town. Perhaps the favorite of all. A brilliant athlete.

It was all the talk at the high school and so Ashley couldn’t escape the news. Then she saw the article. There was a picture, of course. Smiling, broad-shouldered Downy with his mitt in his hand, his sandy blond hair lifted by the wind.

Also in the picture was a female shoulder and arm. He had his arm around a girl who was apparently cropped out of the picture.

Was it the same girl? Or a new one?

If he was going to be a pro athlete, Ashley imagined he could have a new girl every week. It depressed her, but she was now completely unsurprised. This guy did not feel like the Downy she had known. She hadn’t thought of her Downy as shallow or ego-driven, though he did love the attention in sports. He had been sweet and loyal. No longer, she thought. She threw the paper in the trash.

She went home after school, changed into a pair of shorts and walked down to the beach. Spring was a little lazy finding the northern coast, but the weather was getting so nice. The hillside on what Ben had called his bird sanctuary was covered with blossoms and the green of the trees and bushes was brightening. The sun was out almost every day and the water on the bay was as blue as the sky. People had been paddleboarding a lot lately.

Ashley sat on the sand, knees raised and her arms around them. How many summers had she spent on this beach? How many nights with Downy, partying, making out? She had predicted he’d lose interest in her when he went away to college, but he had said, “Where am I ever gonna find a girl prettier than you? Or sweeter? Come on!”

She thought that was going to be the truth, that he was committed. But now as she looked back, during fall and winter he was just some lame freshman, some second string football player who never got to play. He was a pledge, a plebe.

Then came baseball and Downy had an atomic arm. He not only started every game, but he also caught everything, hit anything and ran like the wind. They used him as starting pitcher and tried him on first base, as well. His batting average was solid; he had a college and alumni following. He was going to take them all the way to a championship. A freshman!

Downy was hot shit. And he probably had his pick of girls. And that was all it took.

“Ashley?”

She looked up to see Frank standing nearby. Oh, poor timing, Frank! She blinked away some tears that were close to falling. She had just been mourning Downy’s absence.

“Hi,” she said, hearing the sadness in her own voice.

Frank sat on the sand, facing her. “You see that article today?”

“I couldn’t miss it. It’s got Downy’s fan club pretty excited.”

Frank shook his head. “It got me thinking about something. I bet you counted on Downy taking you to the prom this year.”

She laughed. “I promise you, I got over that idea a while ago.”

“Well, I know. But I’m not taking anyone. I’d love to take you.”

She was speechless. She thought it possible he had a crush on her, but even so, what a sweet thing to do! “Are you sweeping up after Downy, Frank?”

“Oh, hell no,” he said with a bitter laugh. “I think he’s an idiot. He’s an idiot getting ready to be a bigger idiot!”

She frowned.

“Do you know if he’s a high draft pick, he’ll drop out of college to take it? Like he’s invincible and doesn’t need an education or a career other than baseball.”

She sat up a little straighter. “Seriously? What do your parents say about that?”