The Remedy (The Program 0.5)(67)

CHAPTER THREE

JASON INVITED ISAAC AND ME to the batting cages at the park on Sunday morning, and although I’m not supposed to be “running around with Isaac,” I thought it sounded fun. And I’m entitled to a bit of fun once in a while.

Isaac and I arrive at the cages and find Jason waiting for us near the little shop that houses concessions, a big wad of gum stuck in the side of his mouth like chew. He’s wearing a jersey that’s tight over his rounded stomach in an endearing sort of way. I like Jason. I can totally understand why Isaac is friends with him.

“There’s my favorite couple,” he calls out when he sees us approach. He twirls his bat around a gloved hand in pretend showing off, then drops it with a loud clank and we all start laughing. He nods at me. “Your boyfriend is going to show us all up, just a bit of warning.”

“I figured,” I say, looking over at Isaac.

“No, you don’t understand,” Jason says, smirking. “Most nice guys would downplay a little so that their friends don’t look stupid. Not this *. He’ll totally flaunt it.”

“Shut up, man,” Isaac says, laughing. “You’re just extraordinarily bad.”

“This is true,” Jason says, grabbing a cup of tokens he’d left on the ledge near the door. “So should we let the humiliation games begin?”

I can’t stop smiling, immersed in their constant fake bickering. I take a seat on the top of a picnic table, and Jason is first into the cages. He puts in a token and exaggerates his stance. I giggle, and he looks back at me and winks. The pitch comes out, fast enough to make me jump, and Jason smacks it, sending it to the netting on top of the cages.

Isaac lets out a low whistle and sits next to me to watch. “Whaaaat?” he calls to Jason. “Someone’s been practicing.”

“You think I would’ve met you here if I hadn’t?” Jason asks with a shit-eating grin. The next pitch comes before he’s ready, and Isaac lowers his head and laughs. Jason readjusts and takes the next eight pitches to the sky.

I’m surprised how fast the balls are shooting out of the machine, and also a little nervous. The extent of my batting training happened in my backyard the other night with my father, so I’m not feeling super confident. I watch Jason finish his pitches, and then he turns on his heels and points his bat in my direction.

“You’re up, Catawampus,” he announces. Isaac and I burst out laughing, but there’s a soft touch on my heart that he used a nickname in the first place. A sense that I belong. I hop down, turn back to Isaac, and bite my nail like I’m nervous.

“You’ve got it, babe,” he says, clapping his hands loudly to pump me up. I’m all smiles when I get into the cage and pick up the metal bat from the ground. I weigh it in my hands, and then scrunch my nose and look at Isaac. “I have to warn you,” I tell him. “I suck and I’m going to embarrass both of us.”

He gives me an encouraging thumbs-up. I grab a token from the cup and slip it into the slot. The sound of the motor starts, and I swallow hard, edging up to the batting square. The first pitch shoots out, and I yelp and jump back from the plate. Holy shit that was fast.

I toss a panicked look at Isaac, but he and Jason tell me to be brave—patronizing me, I suppose. Either way, I get back in my stance and the heavy bat bobs unsteadily in my grip. The pitch comes and I close my eyes and swing, spinning myself around. I got a piece of it, though. They clap wildly, again patronizing me, but at least I know I can hit it. By the fifteenth pitch I’m able to hit the ball toward the back of the cage, and the muscle in my shoulder is on fire. I finish, exhaling dramatically and letting my arms fall to my sides.

Isaac jumps up from the table and comes into the cage, putting his hands on my waist, telling me what a great job I did. He leans in to kiss my lips, and then takes his hat and puts it on my head backward.

“He’s right,” Isaac tells me, motioning to Jason. “I’m going to show up both of you.”

I push him, laughing, and then go to join Jason on the picnic table. Jason looks sideways at me. “That kid’s a superstar,” he says admiringly. “Charmed life, that one.” I turn back to Isaac, sadness creeping in to remind me that Isaac’s life isn’t as great as Jason thinks. But I quickly bury that thought, not wanting to ruin the day.

“Come on, Isaac,” I yell to drown out my guilt. “Impress me.”

He looks over his shoulder at me, licks his bottom lip, and says, “I will.”

I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, and put my folded hand to my mouth because my cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so much. Isaac turns back to wait for his pitch and all I can think about is how incredibly sexy he is.

He smacks the hell out of the ball. Next pitch, same thing. I straighten, watching with a bit of awe as he handles every pitch as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. Next to me, Jason knocks his knee into mine.

“Haven’t you seen him play before?” he asks, noticing my reaction.

I probably should have known how great he is, so I smile and say, “Yeah, but he still amazes me every time.”

Jason tilts his head, studying my face for a moment. He looks thoughtful, and turns back to Isaac. “I’m glad he loves you,” he says quietly. “You’re good for him.”

My breath is tight in my chest, and I’m so grateful for this day. I’m so glad I ignored Marie’s advice, because now this is mine. This memory. Maybe even this life. He loves you. I turn to watch Isaac once again, trying to memorize his every movement.