Page 151 of Left on Base

Nothing feels right without her. The first time we broke up, we still texted, and that led to our situationship. Now, it’s just silence. I don’t know if she’s happy or hurting or moving on, and it’s killing me.

My stomach growls, but I can’t get up. I’m about to start building the bullpen when the door creaks and Jameson strolls in, dropping his bag with a thud.

“Where you been?” I mumble, eyes on my screen.

“Eating,” he says, flopping onto his bed.

“With who?” I ask, though I already know.

He stretches, glancing at me sideways. “Cam.”

The word lands like a stone in a pond, ripples spreading through all the places I’ve tried to keep undisturbed.

“Just Cam?” I ask, my Minecraft player frozen on second.

Jameson tosses his hat on his bed, stretching out with a groan. “Yup. We was hungry after class so we ate.”

He says it like him and Cam eating together is normal, which pisses me off too. “Oh.” My pixelated bat drops. “She say anything?”

He raises an eyebrow, propping up on one elbow. “About?”

I grit my teeth. “You know.”

“No I don’t,” Jameson says, voice flat, waiting me out.

“Yes, you do,” I mutter, jaw tight. My Minecraft guy stands still, game music suddenly grating.

He sighs, rolling onto his back, picking Mookie up off the floor. “Like what?” Jameson turns his head, smirking. “That she shoulda dated me,”

“Wait, what? Did she say that?” I try to sound casual and totally fail.

He starts talking to Mookie instead of answering.

I kick his leg and Mookie jumps down. I finally look at him, scowling. “Did she?”

“Nah, man. Chill.” He throws an arm over his eyes, voice softer. “She’s just, I don’t know. Confused.”

“About what?”

“You, my man. You got a good one, Jaxon—and you’re acting like you didn’t, or like there’s something better out there, and trust me, there isn’t. They lie, cheat on ya, talk to your friends, and act like you’re the asshole for calling them out.”

Thinking there’s something better is a fucking lie. I never said that. Never thought I’d find better. I … needed something different.

I grunt, breaking a block in the infield with more force than necessary. “Yeah.”

Jameson sits up, tossing a pillow at my chair. “Well, Camdyn’s never been like that. Guys try, but she doesn’t care. She still isn’t.”

My heart stutters. “What do you mean?” My voice is tight, Minecraft guy motionless by home plate.

He shrugs, watching me. “She’s not talking to anyone.”

I don’t answer. My mind’s already spinning, dredging up last year—Jameson and Camdyn working together, laughing over some dumb Spanish project. Him leaning in, grinning, whispering “¿Quién es tu papi?” just to make her blush. The way she glowed red, the way she looked at him, even if it was only for a second. It was the first time I saw her look at another guy. Even now, I can see them—happy, laughing, making sense in a way that scares the shit out of me.

My hands tighten on the mouse. Jameson’s a good guy. Funny, loyal, probably a better boyfriend than I’ll ever be. I hate what Callie did to him, but if I’m honest, I’m doing the same thing to Camdyn. That shame sits heavy in my chest.

Did I want her to be with someone else? Fuck no. The thought alone makes me want to punch my monitor. I hate how much they have in common, how easy it’d be for her to fall for him. If she did, I couldn’t blame her.

I stare at my blocky field, not really seeing it. I see her face. Camdyn O’Hara—she’s everything. Beautiful, crazy-athletic, charismatic, funny, cute, sexy… That smile floors me every time, and her laugh makes me want to do something stupid just to hear it again. Around her, I’m holding my breath, barely keeping my head above water. Let go, and I’d drown.

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