Page 87 of The Change Up
“Good,” he says, leaning back in his chair, his arms relaxing, resting on his armrests before a smile spreads across his face softening his tough exterior. I relax along with him. “I wanted to make sure the decision was coming from you. I have no doubt in my mind Chloe wouldn’t be the type of girl to hold you back, but this is a big decision. One I wanted to make sure you are most certain about. While I have no doubt you’ll go far at the next level, selfishly, I’m glad you’re staying for one more year. You’ve been an incredible asset to the baseball program and a tremendous guy to coach.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Bursting with pride I welcome the warm feeling it brings that spreads through my veins. It’s one thing to know that you are good at a sport, but there’s something even more rewarding to know that at the end of the day, you are someone that a coach enjoys coaching. So many athletes are talented but have horrible egos. I’m glad to hear that while I do display a bit of a cocky behavior at the end of the day, I’ve been someone he doesn’t want to see leave.
Coach Weber’s desk phone rings interrupting our conversation. He glances at the screen before tipping his head back in my direction. “I’ve got to take this.”
“No worries. Thanks, Coach.” I stand, stepping out of his office. Once I’ve cleared the doorway, I let the smile I was fighting take over my face. With the admittance of my plans for the future, I feel a weight release from my shoulders. No longer do I have to worry about what comes next. For right now, I can focus on baseball and my girl, no more talks of the major leagues at this point.
My body feels lighter. My head is clearer.
Walking down the hallway toward the locker room, I stop to take in the photos on the wall. Looking at the previous team pictures, I can’t wait to see this year’s one beside them, only holding a trophy.
We’ve won over twenty games so far this season, and most of the sports commentators are predicting that come May, we’ll be a real threat to any team we face. I have to agree with them. I know how bad I want it, and while not everyone on the team is on the same level as I am, they’re close. Coach Weber can sense it too. It’s why he’s been pushing us so hard.
Pushing through the locker room doors, I find the rest of the team already inside. Most of the guys have showered from our light workout session and are gathered in the attached loungeroom playing video games. Standing in front of my locker, I triple-check that I have all of my gear for our road game.
I’m almost done putting everything back inside my bag when I see Hudson from the corner of my eye.
“Everything good with you and Coach?” He crosses his arms while leaning back against the post separating the lockers. His game face is already starting to appear.
With a nod, I place my extra glove in my bag and zip it close before standing up and facing Hud. “Yeah, everything is good. We were having a follow-up on what’s to come.”
“Annnnd?” he draws out, spinning his finger in a circle. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
With a shit-eating grin, I say, “I’ll be back next year.”
“Oh hell yeah!” Hudson shouts, his excitement bouncing off the walls, as he claps me on the shoulder. “The dynamic duo is coming back. They can’t get rid of Larsen and Jacobs that easily.”
Turning in the direction of the lounge room, I let out a soft chuckle as Hudson falls in step with me. “Bro, I don’t think anyone has ever called us ‘the dynamic duo.’”
“Wait, they don’t? What the hell is up with that?”
Walking into the space, there’s a group of guys on the leather couch playing a video game on the big screen while others are lounging on beanbags, cell phones in hand. This room is one of the only rooms where Coach permits cell phones.
Ty looks up from his spot on the couch, the game controller in his hand. “What’s with you two?”
“Oh this dumb ass,” I start, pointing my finger at Hud, “Thinks that everyone calls us ‘the dynamic duo.’”
Ty stares at us from his spot on the bean bag as some of the other guys turn in our direction. His eyes squint, and the guys start laughing. “That’s the douchiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Right.” Squeezing my way through the guys, I find an empty beanbag and plop down on it.
Closing his phone, Nolan leans up and looks at Ty. “No the ‘douchiest,’” he says putting air quotes around douchiest, “thing I’ve heard is you saying douchiest. Who says that, and what does it even mean?”
“Like the most douchebag thing you can say.”
Nolan shakes his head, turning his attention back to his phone. Whatever he’s reading on his phone has him huffing his breath as a dark cloud dampens his mood.
“You good, Nolan?”
He grunts a response but doesn’t take his eyes off his phone. I make a mental note to check in with him when we get to Charleston. Hopefully, by then he’ll have his personal life sorted, but if not, it’s my job as a captain—and friend—to make sure everyone’s heads are in check.
A couple of hours later, the guys and I are walking across the pavement to board the bus which will take us to the airport where we’ll board the university’s jet to Charleston. Climbing up the three steps, my eyes immediately start searching for my Wildflower.
She’s sitting in her usual row, a little before the halfway mark of the bus, the inside seat near the window. Her golden blond hair is pulled back in one of those clips she loves to wear as her head is tipped down, no doubt her nose is already glued in a book. I smile at the sight of my girl.
Slipping into the vacant seat beside her, I watch as she slowly turns her attention my way. Her eyes widen, and she startlesslightly, no doubt she assumed I was Ty since they sit together every ride.
