Page 51 of Single Glance

Or it was wishful thinking on my part.

As the first batter stepped up to the plate, Cam’s attention turned back to the game, that fierce determination back in its place.

I settled back in my seat, and Ollie handed me a beer. Her eyes burned into the side of my face as she smirked at me. “What?”

“Nothing.” She smirked. “Just wondering when you finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“That you’re in love with Cam.”

This was the second time today someone had told me as much.

But unlike earlier with Brianna, I didn’t deny it.

Unfortunately,the brief joy in Cam’s eyes was gone by the second inning. The Rebels were crushing the Hawks, and they seemed to know every play in their handbook. I’d chewed my nails down to the beds while watching, especially when I looked over at Cam waiting in the dugout. Frustration lined every inch of his body, fromthe clench of his fists to the tightness in his brow. It took everything in me to stay in my seat, wanting nothing more than to run to him and take some of his pain away.

“It’s fine,” Ollie muttered in her seat, more to herself than to me as Parker stepped up to bat. Her hands wrung together, and her eyes never left him. “You can do this, Park. You’ve got this.”

As his walk-up song blared through the stadium speakers, Ollie hummed along absentmindedly. Not surprising, considering Ollie almost always picked Parker’s walk-up songs. According to her, he had the worst taste in music, and it was her duty as his best friend to remedy that. She’d been making him playlists and helping him since high school, and it seemed like it wouldn’t end soon.

Her words turned hushed as Parker turned slightly, staring directly at our section. Just as Cam always found me in the crowd, he always looked for Ollie. Parker shot her a sly smile before turning to face the pitcher with a determined stare.

The pitcher wound his arm back, throwing the ball through the air with almost inhuman speed. Parker didn’t bite on the first swing, instead standing still as the umpire called “strike”. Ollie muttered a sharp curse under her breath as the pitcher repeated the motions, but this time, Parker tried to hit the ball.

And missed.

Before my mind caught up, the umpire called out a second strike. Parker shook his head, muttering a sharp curse under his breath. Ollie reached out and took my hand, clenching it as hard as possible when the third pitch came. But it was no use. The sound when the ball collided with the catcher’s glove echoed in the crowd, everyone almost silent as Parker walked off the field. Whenhe reached the dug-out, he chucked his helmet down, screaming out a frustrated groan. Cam gave him a commiserating pat on the back before turning to watch the next couple of batters step up to the base. A single. Another single. Enough to get on base, but not nearly enough to tie up the score.

By the time Cam stepped up to bat, the Hawks were still five runs behind the Rebels, and the tension was so palpable, it clouded the whole stadium. Ringing filled my ears, blocking out the hum of the music and the cheers of the crowd. All I could do was close my eyes and pray Cam would pull off another flawless hit.

But as we watched pitch after pitch, that didn’t happen. Ball after ball landed in the catcher’s mitt, Cam’s timing off by a second or two. My heart jumped into my throat. This wasn’t like Cam. This wasn’t the team I’d grown to love. When the third strike called out, Cam looked like he was ready to murder someone. His hands tensed on the bat, as if he was tempted to break it into pieces but didn’t want to rack up any fines. By the time he walked back into the dugout, he slouched down on the bench, far out of sight from the crowd.

“Holy shit,” I said to Ollie. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Ollie reached out and squeezed my hand. “They’re having an off night—it happens. There’s still a lot of game left.”

But even with her reassuring words, her eyes never left Parker’s, as if she was struggling with being on the sidelines as much as I was.

“Do you think it’s my fault?” I asked, unable to look away from the dugout. Where was he? Was he okay? Cam put a ridiculous amount ofpressure on himself, constantly trying to prove his place on the team. If I’d somehow messed with his head?—

“No,” Ollie insisted. “It’s a bad night. They all have them once in a while. Don’t put that on yourself. If anything, you helped Cam. We all saw it. He was in a mood before he ever stepped out onto the field.”

“How do you help Parker on nights like this?”

“I get him drunk and then take him to an all-night laser tag place. Something about taking out overly-competitive teenagers makes him a little less mopey.” Ollie took her hand and linked our fingers. “Honestly, it depends on what’s going on in his mind. Sometimes, he needs a distraction, and there are other nights he needs to talk through the game. All you can do is be there for them. This is a long season, and they’re going to have a couple of rough nights. As long as they get back up again tomorrow, ready to do it again, that’s all that matters.”

Without another thought, I let go of Ollie’s hand and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For all your advice and support so far. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here with me.”

“Awww, Hads,” Ollie said as she pretended to flick a tear away. “Same to you, babe. Even though you’re no longer a member of the platonic best friend’s club, you’ll always have a place next to me.”

THIRTY-NINE

Guilt churned through my gut as I stared up at the scoreboard. The fans had already fled the stadium, leaving with their heads hung in defeat. The field lights turned off one by one with an audible thud, but the score remained, lighting up our failure for the world to see.

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