Page 47 of The Plan

“Just sign the paper, Vidia.”

“I will if you agree to my terms.” Her terms? She really does hate me. She’s never going to get over what happened fourfucking years ago, and she’s gonna make my life a living hell for as long as she possibly can.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re a monster,” I blurt out, and she breaks into a laugh, but I couldn’t be more serious.

“God, you are so dramatic.”

I stare at her in disbelief and shake my head.

“Sire, if you don’t want to regress, I highly suggest that you ease back into playing. You and I both know how fast you throw. Aren’t you like, what, the third fastest pitcher in the world?”

“Second,” I mumble, and I swear I catch her lip twitch, almost like she’s proud. “But I can be the first after this season. I practiced so hard for this, Vidia. Please don’t make me slow down. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine, Sire. You’re great. You made a full recovery, and you can be the fastest pitcher ofall timeone day, but I promise on mylifethat you won’t ever throw a ball if you injure your arm again.”

I look between her eyes as I take that in, but she’s wrong. I won’t injure myself again. “I’ll pitch with my right arm.” I’m ambidextrous. I can do a lot better with my right at full speed than slowing down with my left.

“You said that last time.” She reminds me of what I said the last time I injured my arm, but I don’t need a fucking reminder. I need her to sign this paper.

“If I promise to slow down with my left and mainly pitch with my right hand, will you sign it?”

“Yes, if you promise to also only pitch one inning for the first month.”

“Absolutely not,” I immediately say, and she shakes her head as I run my hand through my hair. “Vidia, do you know how many games we play in a month?” She has to be insane. Maybe she has a brain tumor. Maybe if I can get her deemedincompetent, I can get someone else to evaluate me and sign this damn paper.

“Stop scheming whatever's in that big head of yours. You look like a crazy person. It's not that serious.”

“Not that serious? We won’t stand a chance of making it to the playoffs if we lose the entire first month of the season.” She breaks into a laugh again, and I pull my hoodie off because I’m so mad that I’m getting hot.

“What the fuck is so funny?!”

Her laugh sobers quickly, and she turns to me. “You really are full of yourself if you think your team will loseeverygame for the month that you take it easy. You guys have like ten other pitchers, and everyone on the team wouldn’t be on the team if they weren't at least half as good as you think you are.”

I give her a bored expression, but I’m still shaking with anger. “Sign. The. Paper.” She stares at me for a beat, then turns to the paper and writes something. I think she’s signing it, but she’s taking too long, and when I look down, I notice she’s writing her terms in the comment box.

She cannot be serious right now. She signs next to the X after writing my name next to the patient, and then she hands me the form. “Screw you, Vidia.” I don’t bother taking the bullshit in her hand and storm out.

I pull up in frontof the runway at the airport but freeze when I notice a familiar head of curly hair. You’ve got to be kidding me. If she’s getting on this jet with us, I’m turning back around and flying public.

I step out of the car and watch in disbelief as she climbs the stairs and boards the jet.Myprivate jet. Absolutely not. I turn around to get back in the car, but August stops me.

“I was going to tell you.” He takes a step back when he sees me clench my fist. “If you hit me again, I’m calling Sage.” How aboutIcall her because I’m sure she’ll be on my side on this.

“Seriously, August, this isn’t even funny anymore. Why is she here?”

“Connect the dots, Sire. Hazel came with me. Vidia is Hazel’s best friend. Plus, she needed to come anyway since she’s the team’s sports physician, so why not just fly with us?” Um, I don’t know, maybe becauseI’mflying with us.

Wait. She’s the team’s what? “What do you mean she’s our physician? I thought she was just a physical therapist at our team's doctor's office?” He’s looking at me as if he thought I already knew this, but I didn’t, or I would’ve asked to be traded to literally any other fucking team.

“She’s both. I told you this.” Overachiever little shit. And no, he didn’t tell me this. The main reason I didn’t want to continue physical therapy was to avoid her. Now that I finally finished my sessions, I have to see her at every game, too?

“Okay, well, have a not-so-safe trip.” I turn back around to leave, but he pulls me again.

“First of all, don’t joke about plane crashes. You know how I feel about that, and second, where the hell are you going? You hate flying economy. That’s why we bought a private jet.”

“Yeah, August,webought this jet. You could at least let me know when other people, especially your little menace and her little shit best friend, are flying with us.” Today looks like a great day to go skydiving. Without the damn parachute.

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