Page 70 of Pitcher Perfect
Chapter Twenty
Breakfast was a quiet affair.
The inside of Skylar’s head was not.
She stared down at her planner, which sat open beside her bowl of overnight oats. Already this morning, she’d pitched to the tree for an hour, showered, paced, and, most of all, tried to figure out what to tell everyone about Robbie.
He wasn’t coming back, meaning she no longer had a teammate.
Calling Eve to act as a temporary replacement was not an option. Not with everything she had on her plate, the imagined weight of which had kept Skylar awake half the night, trying to think of ways to help. She also knew getting Eve to accept any form of help would be the biggest obstacle. Eve didn’t take assistance very well. Waiting for Eve to ask for that help would be hard, but Skylar knew from experience there wasn’t another choice.
For now, the only option was to compete solo in the family competition. An unprecedented twist in Page Stakes lore, to be whispered about for years to come.
Elton would have a field day with this. She could already hear her brother’s smug comments. No doubt, everything out of his mouth for the next two days would be variations ofI told you so. Her parents were allergic to expressing sympathy, so they’d feedher a bunch of platitudes, likeWhat doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. OrYou’ll be smarter next time. You’ve been given the gift of insight.
The other four people at the dining room table—Elton, Madden, and her parents, three of whom were wearing Brown University T-shirts—were beginning to notice her silence, so Skylar took a tasteless bite of cold oats and scribbled something unnecessary into her planner. She tried not to think about what Robbie was doing right now. Or who. It was approaching 8:00a.m., meaning he was probably spread-eagle in a tangle of women, sleeping with a smile on his face.
Had he even enjoyed the time they spent together?
Or had he spent the whole time dreaming of wild nights in Boston?
Sensing eyes on her profile, Skylar turned to find Madden watching her with brows drawn, his own breakfast untouched in front of him, as well. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say,Are you okay?
Skylar nodded.Tell them your news, she mouthed.
He thought for a moment, then gave a curt shake of his head. Looked away.
The clock ticked.
The silence continued.
They were all waiting for Robbie to appear. According to the laminated schedule that had been posted on the refrigerator this morning, today’s challenge was the swim across the reservoir—and it started early. As if on cue, both her über punctual parents checked their waterproof watches and exchanged a knowing glance, clearly beginning to grow stressed by the missing competitor.
She’d run out of time.
“Um.” Skylar closed her planner. “I guess you’re wondering where Robbie is. I might... well, I might have some unfortunate news about that, but I’m notcomplaining. Okay? I can compete by mysel—”
The screen door of the house opened and in walked Robbie.
In a Boston University T-shirt.
Disbelief streaked through Skylar, followed by relief. Gratitude.
Warmth. It swept downward from the crown of her head to her feet.
“Good morning, you family full of lunatics,” Robbie said conversationally, approaching the table. So casual, but his eyes were locked on Skylar, as if trying to get a read. “Miss me?”
“No,” Elton responded, without his usual venom. He was looking at Robbie’s shirt, his forehead puckered in thought. Skylar was staring at it, too, with a growing knot in her jugular, her hands dropping into her lap and curling into fists. Silently as possible, she attempted to take a giant breath but found it difficult to draw air. In a house filled with Brown paraphernalia, here was Robbie rocking BU merch, her school being represented for the very first time in this home. She’d never even worn anything from BU around her parents, except for her softball uniform, wanting to avoid reminders of their disappointment.
“Nice shirt,” Madden said, lips quirked behind his folded hands, though his tone was hard to read. Was that approval or sarcasm?
“Thanks.” Until now, Skylar hadn’t noticed the stack of plastic-wrapped shirts Robbie carried under his arm, but when he started dealing them around the table like blackjack cards, Skylar officially couldn’t breathe. “I bought one for everybody.”
“Oh.” Her parents traded a startled look. “We’re—”
“Big Brown fans. Which is cool, but there are no rules against supporting two teams, right? I mean exceptions have to be made when your kid is the star pitcher. You going to eat that, Rocket?”Before Skylar knew what was happening, Robbie scooped her off the wooden bench, sat down, and settled her sideways in his lap, proceeding to down her entire bowl of overnight oats in exactly four bites.
In just thirty seconds, her world turned itself upside down.
