Page 76 of Switch Pitching

“It’s not just that, though,” I continue. “I’ve been acting really shi—inconsideratewith Ethan. I barely call or text, and I dumped a ton of random doubts on him earlier today. He thought I was about to break up with him.”

Dad speaks up, his voice calm. “You’ve always been hard on yourself, James. Ethan will understand that you aren’t at your best.”

“I’m scared to mess things up with him. He means everything to me, and I miss him so much it hurts.” Pausing to let in a shakybreath, I steel myself to keep going. “But going back to Boston seems pointless right now. Ethan’s gonna be gone for games and on road trips all the time, and I’d be sitting around all day with nothing to do.”

“James,” says Mom. “It sounds like you’re punishing yourself.”

I stare back at her, not knowing what to think. Feeling moisture start to pool up in my eyes, I avert my gaze toward my plate.

Mom sees right through me, though. “You’re practically in tears talking about how much you miss Ethan, yet you’re adamant that there’s nothing for you back in Boston. If you go back, at least you’ll have Ethan there.”

My eyes are burning as the realization sinks in. I got up and left Boston to come home because I was injured, and I didn’t want to sit in an empty apartment. I left Ethan alone. He’s the one coming home to a dark, quiet, too-big apartment thatIasked him to move into. He’s the one who’s been calling, texting, and checking in on me to see if I’m recovering well. Meanwhile, I’m 700 kilometers away, casually brushing off the guy I love whenever he reaches out.

Wait,what?

Oh, shit.

Holy. Shit.

I love him.

If I’m being honest with myself, I knew this already. There’s no other word to describe what I feel for him, but still. I fuckingloveEthan and I made him think I wanted to break up earlier today?

“I’m such an asshole,” I mutter.

Dad sighs before fixing me with a stern expression. “Language, James.”

“You aren’t an asshole.” Mom’s firm statement prompts a weary, questioning look from Dad. “You were sad, and you weren’t yourself.”

I make a noise of agreement and the conversation trails off. There’s no more for me to say, so I take my dishes into the kitchen to clean up.

And I’m greeted by a fly buzzing around the counter. Jesus Christ, it’s October. All of those should be dead by now.

Pushing past it, I thrust my dishes into the sink and start rinsing them, but that damn fly follows me and buzzes in my ear. I try to swat it away, but it’s no use.

Okay, I’m thoroughly annoyed now. I grab the bottle of dish soap, aim, and hurl it at the buzzing pest that’s landed on the fridge.

The hit lands, and the bottle clatters to the floor to reveal a dead, squashed mess.

“Good aim.” I swivel my head toward the door and see Mom standing there, her arms crossed.

“Seems like you’re back up and running,” she says.

Huh. I guess I am.

“James. You should go back to Ethan,” suggests Dad, carrying an armful of plates to the kitchen. “We love having you here, but it sounds like you’re better, and you should be with him.”

“He’s coming to Toronto if they win against LA tonight.”

Mom stares straight at me. “Then meet him here if that happens. Go to the hotel your team always uses and throw rocks at his window if you have to.”

I blush, heat creeping up my neck and into my ears. Is this what being Ethan is like? I have no idea how he deals with it.

“I will, and I want to make things better with him.”

Immediately, I pull my phone out and check the score of our game. Boston won, and Ethan is coming to Toronto tomorrow.There’s so much I need to say, and I know exactly what I need to do. Since the game just ended, he’ll be giving an interview or something on the field, but I can’t wait to get this out. I open our text thread and pour my heart out for him to read when he goes to shower and change.

Congrats on the win! I’d normally call but I need to get my thoughts out. Don’t worry, there’s nothing bad. Had a talk with my parents and they know about us, and they also gave me some much-needed advice. I’m feeling a lot better

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