Page 18 of The Perfect Hit

“I think I’m going to head home. I’ve got a lot going on. And I haven’t gone to see my grandpa in a bit. Homework will dominate the rest of my night too.”

He cringed. “Okay, man, but don't complain to me if your truck starts to stink from your BO.”

I laughed and hurried out to my truck, throwing my bat bag in the back and starting it up. When I pulled into my driveway, I saw a text message from Hazel and was curious what she had to say. She’d looked completely shocked when I walked onto the stage, and to be honest, it was a little crazy to be there myself. But that feeling was kind of fun. Everything had focused on me for those few seconds, and it almost reached the high I got from baseball.

Hey, where'd you go after the audition?

I had to run back to tryouts.

I was grateful Hazel was the one person I could be completely honest with—well, aside from telling her I liked her as more than a friend.

Gotcha.

Did you get everything figured out?

Several seconds ticked by, and I finally got out of the truck, ready to get some food after all the energy I’d used up physically and emotionally today.

I grabbed my stuff, realizing I'd left my backpack in the locker room. It would be easy to just leave it there and pick it up tomorrow, but I had homework, and if I was going to juggle a double life in baseball and theater, I needed to stay on top of school work.

After a few tries, my truck started back up, and I retraced the route I’d just driven from school. Avoiding the locker room, I went around to the main part of the school, hoping most of the guys had gone by now.

I opened the door and glanced in, finding that just about all the guys were still there. Nate would know something was up if I went in now.

Pacing in front of the door, I glanced around, trying to figure out what to do.

“What did you think you were doing? Trying out for the play?” Scott’s voice called to me in a low growl from down the hall. “Isn’t that against some code you athletes have?”

“Scared, Daniels?” I didn’t know why I suddenly had a shot of confidence, maybe because I wanted to knock this guy down a few pegs.

“Not at all. I’ll be the lead, and you’ll be one of the background characters. Then again, if I were directing, I’d send you to be part of the stage crew.”

I shrugged, keeping my balled fists to my side. “We’ll just have to see what happens tomorrow, won’t we?”

Scott walked closer, stopping only a foot or two away. “If you get a part, it will only be because you’re best friends with Hazel.”

Shaking my head, I grinned at him. “I didn’t do that bad, Scott. You sound a bit nervous you might lose your starting spot.”

“It’s called the lead role,” he spat out.

“Same thing. Get used to this, Scott. I have a feeling we might be working closely for the next several weeks.” Okay, I wasn’t sure about that, but I knew I was getting under his skin and couldn’t resist.

He turned on his heel and stalked off. That was satisfying, but I also hoped I could avoid him as much as possible in the coming weeks.

11

Hazel

Did you get everything figured out?

I stared at Colt’s text for a while. I still felt unsettled about something, but as I looked down at the list of characters, I couldn’t pinpoint what was giving me anxiety.

It would be easy to have a conversation about this over text message, but I wanted to see his face, to know for sure that he was serious about the play. Not that Colt would do anything to sabotage me, but I wasn’t used to seeing him on the stage. And juggling both baseball and the play would be interesting.

I pictured Ellie and Scott as the leads and wondered if that was some of the irritation I was feeling. Was I bummed that my name wasn’t there as the star of the show? I’d been so used to being in the spotlight that directing was outside of my comfort zone. That would’ve been the opposite for so many people, and I had to remember I was developing skills in other areas. Other skills that could help me get into the college of my choice as I pursued theater for a degree.

I laid my head down on my crossed arms, relaxing against the kitchen table.

“Hazel,” my mom said, coming into the kitchen. “What’s wrong? How did auditions go?”

---