Page 38 of Left on Base

I don’t know why Brynn does this, but if any girl shows interest in Kingston, Brynn either befriends them for reasons I don’t know, or talks about him constantly within earshot to make it known they have always had something going on. I find that kind of crazy though. You don’t see me befriending Inez.

Speaking of...

There’s a crowd of people huddled around a table in the media center, and tucked in the corner is Inez DeLuca, looking like she raided an art student’s closet. Her dark hair is pulled back in a sleek bun, paint splatters decorating her beat-up Converse like abstract art. She’s got on these black skinny jeans with rips that definitely weren’t bought that way, and thick-rimmed glasses that she keeps pushing up her nose while she scribbles in her notebook.

That’s the thing about Inez, she’s not what you'd expect. When Jaxon first mentioned her, I pictured some confident journalism major who had her life figured out. Instead, she’s this awkward art student who can barely make eye contact when sheinterviews people. Which somehow makes it worse? Like, how am I supposed to be mad at someone who looks like they might cry if you speak too loudly?

She notices me and gives this tiny wave, immediately dropping her pen in the process. As she bends to pick it up, her glasses slide down her nose again.

“Did you know she was doing this?” I ask Brynn, who’s suddenly very interested in her phone.

“Who?”

I gesture toward Inez with a nod. “Her.”

“Oh, uh.” Her lips flatten and she half shrugs. “Kinda?”

“What do you mean kinda?”

“She mentioned it, I think.” Brynn grabs both my hands and faces me, smiling. “Girl, Callie said Jax sent y’all coffee the other day.” She pauses and smiles widely. “So like, is it a thing again?”

And there it is. The question I’ve been avoiding since that shower at his uncle’s condo. You know the one I’m talking about. The one where we definitely didn’t just get clean.

“I... don’t know what’s going on. We haven’t talked about it. And I don’t know if Jax really sent coffee. Jameson brought it over so like, I don’t know.” I also don’t want to be having this conversation with Brynn. I get uncomfortable talking about Jaxon with her because I don’t know what she tells Inez.

Her mouth goes slack. “You didn’t ask him about it?”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “Didn’t want to be disappointed.”

“I know the feeling.” Brynn sighs, sipping on her iced coffee. “I can’t even get Kingston to text me two days in a row.”

Coach Drew starts herding us toward the interview stations, and my stomach does that thing where it feels like I swallowed a softball. Last time I did interviews, I had a mental breakdown on national TV after bombing in the World Series. Not my finest moment.

Inez shuffles over, clutching her notebook like a shield. “Um, Camdyn?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Could I maybe... if you’re not too busy... get a few quotes?”

She’s doing that thing where she won’t quite meet my eyes, instead focusing on some point past my left shoulder. It would be endearing if I didn’t know she’s been texting Jaxon.

“About the upcoming series?” I ask, trying to sound professional.

“Actually…” She fidgets with her pen. “I was wondering about last season’s World Series game. And um, you know, how you’re handling everything. With Jaxon supporting you and all…”

See, this is what gets me about Inez. She asks these loaded questions in this shy, innocent way that makes you feel like a monster for getting upset. Like, how do you call out someone who looks like they might spontaneously combust from social anxiety?

But I’ve learned the hard way that the quiet ones can surprise you.

“I’m focused on the team,” I say, channeling every media training session we’ve ever had. “Last season’s behind us, and we’re looking at Arizona State right now.”

She nods rapidly, scribbling something down. “And Jaxon?” The question comes out so quiet I almost miss it. “You two seem... close.”

Yeah, about as close as you can get in a shower, but I’m not giving her that satisfaction. Even if she does look like a startled deer right now.

I’m saved by Coach Drew, who materializes like my guardian angel. “Time for team photos, Camdyn.”

As I walk away, I check my phone one more time. Still nothing from Jaxon.

You’re probably thinking I’m an idiot for falling back into this situationship with him. Trust me, I know. But there’s something about Jaxon that makes all my common sense pack up and go on vacation. It’s like my brain goes: “Red flag? Nah, that’s a really pretty sunset.”

My mind’s a fucking idiot, by the way.

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