“That’s your boy, right?” Joey said, pointing at Jack as he made his way to the mound for pre-game warm-ups.
Was.
“That’s him.” My eyes followed the lines of Jack’s new uniform, noting the muscle he’d gained in his legs and chest. He took my breath away.
Jack stood on the mound, every motion and move he made careening through me with familiarity. The fluid movements of his body—the way it bent, curved, kicked, and then released the ball—destroyed me emotionally.
Tears started to burn my eyes. “I can’t be here. I have to go.” I bolted from my seat, shooting up the cement stairs.
“Cassie! Cassie, wait!” Horrified at the volume at which Joey shouted my name, I stopped dead in my tracks and turned slowly to face him. Then I made the mistake of glancing at the field.
Jack’s eyes were focused on me, the look on his face unlike any expression I’d ever seen on him before. My hand flew to my mouth as Joey reached me, placing his arm protectively around me. I noticed Jack’s jaw working as he dropped his head and refocused his attention toward the batter’s box.
“What’s going on, Cassie?” Joey asked, his arm still circled around my waist.
“Jack and I used to date.” I pursed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Was it serious?” His voice sounded confused but curious.
“It was.” I took a quick breath and opened my eyes, and looked squarely into his. “But it didn’t end well. I’m sorry, Joey, I should have told you.”
“You’re not obligated to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. You basically told me earlier that you didn’t want to come, but I didn’t listen.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I tilted my head to one side and he rubbed my neck.
“Look, Cassie, I like you. I’d still like to take you out. But I promise, no more baseball games.” He threw up his hands in a surrender pose.
I snickered. “That sounds nice. But right now I really want to go home. Would you mind dropping me off?”
“Of course not. Come on.” Joey reached for my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine as he guided me away from the stadium and Jack. I climbed the stairs behind him grimly, the look I’d seen on Jack’s face running circles in my already fragile mind.
TWENTY-THREE
After Joey dropped me off, I ran upstairs and slammed my apartment door, tossing my body like a rag doll onto the gently-used couch I’d purchased as soon as I arrived in New York. I cried into the velvet-like cushion, my tears soaking in as I reached for my cell phone.
“Yo,” Melissa answered, rowdy cheers screaming in the background.
“Melis?” I choked out.
“Cass? What’s wrong? Shit, I can’t hear anything. Hold on a sec, ’K?” She didn’t really ask. “Excuse me. I said excuse me, move please. Ugh. Cass? Cassie, can you hear me?”
The noise faded into the background with each word she said. “Oh my God, Melissa. I saw Jack tonight. He saw me. It was horrible.” The words tumbled from my lips.
“What do you mean? Slow down and tell me everything.”
“I finally agreed to go out with Joey from work. He’s super nice, by the way, but anyway. I guess he overheard me talking to someone about how I was good friends with a baseball player in college and how that player was on the Diamondbacks. Well, Joey thought it would be sweet to surprise me—”
“Oh no, he didn’t. This guy needs a Cassie 101 lesson,” she interrupted.
“Anyway, so he won’t tell me where we’re going and then we pull up at the baseball stadium because they’re playing Jack’s team and Jack was warming up and I lost it, Melissa. I fucking lost it.” I covered my eyes with one hand.
“Go on.”
“So I practically ran from my seat and Joey screamed my name. I mean, he shouted it so loud I think the people in space heard!”
“Oh my God.” Melissa sounded horrified.
“I turned around and Jack was just staring at me with this look on his face.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“I’ve never seen that look on his face before. I think he hates me.” I sobbed into the phone, wishing she was next to me.
“He doesn’t hate you. Stop saying that,” she chastised, her voice irritated.
“You didn’t see his face or his eyes. What do I do? Should I text him? Should I do nothing?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’m so tired of doing nothing when it comes to him. For the last six months, I’ve just accepted that he hasn’t tried to talk to me. But the whole time I’m sitting here going insane trying to figure out why. I know I could end all my suffering by picking up the phone and talking to him. But do I do that? No, because that’s what a normal, sane person would do. And clearly, I’m neither.”