Page 27 of Pitcher Perfect
His words sunk in gradually through the anxiousness and she let go of him abruptly. “Oh. God. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He closed that hand into a tight fist. “Are you worried about pulling this dating ruse off?”
“Of course, I am. But mainly...” She pulled in a breath, searching the windows of the house for signs of life. “My family is a lot.”
“We’re here for a wilderness competition, Rocket. I gathered that.”
Weirdly pleased that he’d kept up, a brief smile tilted her lips, even if the tightness in her chest had started to gather again. “I told you how this is a second marriage for my parents, right? I was so little when my mother divorced my biological father, I don’t even remember what he was like in person. He moved back to the West Coast to be closer to family and over the years, we sort of drifted. Our communication slowed down throughout high school and now it’s almost nonexistent, even if he still sends birthday cards. But sometimes... I wonder if I’m more like him than Doug and Vivica. Elton.”
He didn’t say anything right away. “Keep going.”
“Well.” She slicked a hand down her ponytail. “Iamcompetitive, just like them. You know this. But I don’t always keep up. Or I don’t feel like I gelled as easily as they did.”
“Why not?”
They weren’t even inside yet and she could see the memorabilia on the walls. Vivica even owned a set of Brown pot holders. “Us getting into Brown was all my parents talked about for the first six years of their marriage. Elton sailed right in, no problem. Played ball for them and graduated with honors. I... didn’t get in. I totally bumbled the interview with my admissions counselor. Even with two alumni parents and a star athlete for a brother, I got rejected.” Skylar swallowed. “When I come here for this competition now, sometimes I feel like I’m trying to prove I belong in the fold, despite... leaving it.”
Again, Robbie was silent for a handful of seconds. Then, “Jesus Christ, Skylar. You’re attending Boston University. That’s not exactly clown college.”
“I know. Iknowit’s a great school. But it’s not Brown. You’ll see what I mean.”
“You’re a perfectionist. Obviously getting a rejection is going to sting like hell, but, hey... I’ve been rejected, too.”
“By women?”
“God, no. By hockey teams.” He unhooked his seat belt, so he could turn more of his big body in her direction. “When I was in high school, I couldn’t break into the AAA division for three long years. My teammates and best friends moved up, but I continued to be held back. I nearly quit at one point.” His eyes softened. “Once after a particularly brutal tryout, Grandpa Nick took me to fly kites. All three of them caught the air at different times, even though he let them go all at once. That’s always stuck with me, you know? We all catch the air at different times.”
It was a rare thing, Skylar being captured so thoroughly by another person’s enthusiasm that she momentarily forgot to worry or fret about the time. Whatelseshe could be doing. There was just Robbie and his eager expression, waiting to see if his words had made an impact—
The front door of the house blew open.
Her father, Doug Page, exited with his trumpet aloft, heralding Skylar and Robbie’s arrival with a boisterous rendition of the “Star-Spangled Banner” while Vivica, her mother, hustled out into the open behind him carrying a half watermelon full of tinier balled melons impaled by toothpicks. They stopped at the edge of the porch, beaming down at the car in matching red polo shirts and chinos.
“Oh my God,” Robbie said without moving his mouth. “Are they AI?”
“No, but they are about to be freakishly nice to you. Don’t buy it. They are just sizing up the competition.” Skylar smiled and waved through the windshield, while gathering her phone and keys. “From this point forward everything—and I mean everything—you say will be used against you. Do you understand?”
“Show no weaknesses. Ten four.”
“Right. So...” The pulse at the base of her neck beat like a hummingbird’s wings. “From here on out, we’re a couple.”
“We’rethecouple.”
“Robbie.” She put a hand on his arm before he could open the passenger door, a sweeping sense of responsibility pillowing in her stomach. “If this gets to be too weird or too much... either the competition or the pretending... I won’t hold it against you to bail, okay?”
“Yes, you would.”
“Yes, I would.”
He reached across the front of the car and traced Skylar’scheekbone with his thumb, his mossy eyes seeming to catalog her features one by one. “See? I know you already, don’t I?”
“Wow.” She peeked at her parents out of the corner of her eye, noting they were riveted, and nuzzled her cheek into Robbie’s palm. “You might have missed your calling as a professional fake boyfriend.”
“Fake. Yeah.” Chuckling, he took his hand back. “Shall we?”
“Let the psychological warfare commence.”
They climbed out of the car at the same time, meeting at the front bumper where Robbie clasped her suddenly clammy hand tightly within his larger one, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad.” Skylar took a deep breath. “This is Robbie.”
