Page 5 of Left on Base

“Soooo.” Callie picks at a loose thread on our shared blanket—the one we bought at Target freshman year.

I sigh, the sound echoing off our low ceiling. I know what she wants to ask. “What?”

“What’d he say?”

I knew Callie would ask about Jaxon eventually. It’s been a week since that day at the field, when the fog felt like it could just swallow me up. Like it or not, I had to look at the scoreboard: Jaxon and I were over. The game was over. And I wasn’t sure if there’d be another one.

I don’t know how, but I’ve made it a week, so win for me. Well, maybe not a win, because it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m alone, staring at the photos I still haven’t taken down from my bulletin board—me and Jax at his last home game, both of us in our uniforms, his arm around my waist like it belonged there. I only made it through the last week because I was in Florida for softball. Now I’m back on campus and he’s clearly still talking to her.

“So?” Callie presses, shifting on my bed, making the cheap frame squeak against the wall. Our neighbors probably think we’re doing something way more interesting than wallowing in my misery.

I shrug, feeling the anxiety of the day and the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day and he’s not with me. The empty protein shake bottle he left on my desk during our last hookup still sits there, mocking me. “All he pretty much said was he doesn’t want a serious relationship right now. Or something like that.”

Callie rolls her eyes so hard I swear I can hear it. “He’s just saying that. He doesn’t mean it.”

Callie and I met freshman year of high school, and then got roomed together in college—her parents helped, but whatever. She’s been my best friend since I was fourteen.

When we first met, we hated each other because I wouldn’t share my gum. Eventually, when Callie realized I’d never share (because she had her own pack), she befriended the girl with the tough resting bitch face. I’m not actually a bitch. I just act like it. Well, okay, I can be one if you piss me off. But my tough exterior is just me not wanting to let anyone in. I care too much. I love toohard, and it’s hard for me to let go completely—even if it breaks me.

“He’s going to realize he’s messing up.” Callie picks up one of my worn batting gloves and runs her fingers over the leather.

She’s been the biggest supporter of Jax and me. I’m not sure who cried more when we broke up—me, Callie, or my mom. The group chat they started without me called “Operation Get Them Back Together” isn’t as secret as they think.

“That’s not how he really feels,” Callie adds, tossing a Sour Patch Kid in her mouth.

I shrug and reach for her candy bag resting on her stomach. I set it on my pillow and dig through it, the wrappers crinkling in the quiet room. “I wouldn’t know how he feels anymore. He doesn’t tell me.”

Her face scrunches up in disgust, lit by the blue glow of her phone screen. “So he’s dating her?”

“I guess so. Casually.” The word tastes bitter in my mouth, like dining hall coffee left on the warmer too long.

“Wow.”

I pick through the candy in my hand, searching for Swedish Fish and Skittles. I like the crunch and squish together. “You know, I knew when he said she wanted to interview him that they’d like each other.”

“Really? I would have never seen it. I have chemistry with her. She’s actually so different from him.” Callie’s voice echoes off the walls.

“Yeah, but he’s a nice guy, you know?” I stick two Swedish Fish and a few Skittles in my mouth. “He likes people for their personality and I get it, she’s nice from what I’ve heard, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

Callie blows out a breath and sits up, the box of chocolates Jameson gave her in her hand. The mattress springs protest.“That sucks.” She stares at the heart-shaped box, already dented at one corner. “Girl, why’d Jameson give these to me?”

“Because he loves you.” A loud burst of laughter from the hallway makes us both jump. Probably the girls from 3B coming back from their Valentine’s party.

The story of Callie and Jameson is as complicated as Jax and me. They dated last year, on and off, but Callie has commitment issues. Their relationship timeline is documented in Polaroids stuck to our mirror, showing a year’s worth of almost-but-not-quite moments. They always come back to each other, but Callie won’t commit. So they go back and forth, talking and ghosting each other.

Huh. Maybe she’s rubbing off on Jaxon.

I chew on gummy candies and glance at Callie, now sprawled across my UW blanket—the one Jax got me after I committed. “Am I being dramatic when I say him dating her over me feels like my heart is going to explode into a thousand pieces?”

“No.” She gasps, her charm bracelet jingling as she gestures wildly. “Honestly, I’d feel the same way if Jameson actually got a girlfriend.” She turns toward me, the box of chocolates still in her hand, crinkling the wrapper of a forgotten granola bar beneath her. “Camdyn, he’s all you’ve ever known. When I think of you or Jaxon, I think of you guys together. I wish a guy would look at me the way Jaxon looks at you.”

“Jameson does.”

“No, he looks at me like he’s confused.”

I snort, the sound echoing off our low ceiling. “Can you blame him? He’s been trying to date you for over a year.”

“I know.”

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