Page 26 of The Perfect Hit

I just shook my head and laughed inside, knowing he was probably doing everything he could to make sure us kids had the time to work on the shed, allowing him to resume the supervisor role once he got back.

We’d pulled out all the boxes and even the random pair of skis we’d been given a few years ago and never used, as well as all the random car parts my father had collected. He was determined to finish an old truck we had sitting in our driveway, but with all the overtime he’d had to work, it seemed like we’d never get it finished.

My mom came out and opened one of the boxes. “Okay, I guess it’s time we start dejunking.” She scrunched up her face like she’d just opened Sterling’s football bag and sighed.

I laughed, and so did Hazel right next to me. We’d survived cleaning up for the most part, but the place still needed a deep clean inside. And my mom was right that we needed to get rid of some things, as we didn’t have any room in the basement to store anything else.

Mom pulled out several old toys and turned to us with tears in her eyes. “I feel like you were just playing with these toys. You all need to stop growing up.”

“Mom, I think we can get rid of those,” Wyatt said, lounging in one of the chairs with a bottle of water. As much as my brothers had struggled with certain things, we’d all learned how to work hard, and I was grateful for that. It would’ve taken a lot longer to get the junk out of the guesthouse without their help.

Hazel looked tired, but every time I glanced at her, she was smiling. “What are you thinking about?” I asked, walking over and standing next to her.

“Just that moving here was one of the best things to happen to me.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, this is just what you want to be doing on a Saturday. Cleaning out the Buttars’s junk.”

She shrugged, leaning over and nudging me with her elbow. “That’s not all bad. My mom has everything so organized that I don’t have anything to distract me. This was just what I needed.”

“Well, I’m glad you came over. Do you want to go for a walk?” Where was I coming up with this? Most of me just wanted to have a private conversation away from the prying ears of my brothers.

“Sure.”

We took our water bottles and strolled down the street, passing her house and continuing to walk in silence. I needed to tell her I liked her at some point, but was now the right time? Or would there ever be a right time?

She seemed preoccupied with her thoughts, and I wondered if I should just wait to confess everything to her until the play was over.

“Are you all right?” I asked, finally.

She looked over at me like she’d almost forgotten I was there.

“Yeah. Just trying to go over all the places people have to be in each scene. It’s kind of like a game of chess, but I only know the rules for checkers.”

I laughed at the look of confusion on her face. “You’re doing well. I’m sure Mrs. Sanderson would be willing to help you with anything you need. You just need to ask.”

“You’re right. I’m the worst at asking for help, except from you,” she said, grinning at me. “I guess I just worry that someone will drop the ball if I don’t take control of all the things.”

“I don’t know a lot about the play, but I know everyone is willing to make this great. So make sure to be open. You’re going to be awesome.”

Hazel hooked her arm through mine and leaned her head on my shoulder, pulling us to a slower pace as we walked. With the glow of the sun behind a few of the trees, everything seemed brighter. The perfect evening.

We slowed down even more until we stopped, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her head resting on my shoulder.

A surge of anxiety and a push to tell her how I felt caused me to turn fully toward her. “Hazel, I—”

Her phone rang in her pocket, and she pulled it out, noticing the time. “Oh! I have to watch the girls. Thank you so much for giving me a distraction today.”

I tried not to frown at the lost opportunity to tell her how I felt and nodded. “What are best friends for?”

Way to cement my place in the friend zone.

17

Colt

Sunday was spent making sure I’d caught up on homework completely. Yeah, it might sound like a nerdy move, but I’d even started a few assignments from the syllabus early in the hopes that I could save myself some time later.

The week was packed with practices and our first game, and as each event came and went, it was a huge relief to check off the list. I had to laugh at the thought of the pressure I’d felt from the first day of tryouts. That was nothing compared to the amount of time it took to think everything through and make sure I didn’t spill any hints about me being in the play to the wrong people.

---