Page 42 of The Change Up
Tossing my keys on the table that sits inside the front door, I storm up the stairs but not before calling out over my shoulder. “And I don’t give a fuck. I’m leaving in twenty.”
I hear controllers hit the table from behind, and I have no doubt the guys are staring at each other in confusion.
Rarely do I go out the night before a game, and if I do, it’s usually to get food and celebrate while we are on the road. I know how wild the parties are at CTU, and I try to avoid them at all costs. There’s nothing worse than being the only sober one at a rager. But tonight, tonight I don’t give a shit. Consequences be damned.
Twenty-five minutes later, I’m on a mission to get to the bar as soon as I push open the doors to the Eagle’s Nest, the local campus staple. They’re known for their fun theme nights, cheap wings, and cold beer. Tonight is their weekly ‘Thirsty Thursday’ night with their five-dollar pitchers and two-dollar bomb shots. And bombed is in fact what I plan to be.
“Jacobs, you good?” Niko stands in front of me blocking me from my trip to the bar.
Gritting my teeth, I narrow my eyes at him. “I will be as soon as you move out of the way.”
“I’ve got him,” Hudson reassures Niko. I don’t need him to be worried about me. Instead of waiting for Niko to move out of my way, I shoulder past him.
Tonight I just want to forget. I want to forget ever meeting Chloe. I want to forget the hurt I caused her. I want to forget the pain I saw on her face tonight. Everything is a mess between us, and now we are forced to spend our days together. It’s awkward, and it’s affecting my game. Tonight I just need to forget. Even if it’s just for a few hours.
“Jacobs!” Coach Weber yells my name from across the field. I’m currently head down in a trash can emptying the contents of my stomach. Niko forced me to drink a disgusting hangover cure drink, and it was starting to help, until Hudson decided to hit every goddamn pothole from our house to the stadium. It was a five-minute drive, and I swear he was making it a point to rattle my brains.
I know Hudson’s disappointed. I’m the captain of the team, I’m supposed to be the leader, and getting wasted the night before a game is not how I should be leading the team.
I thought I was making the right decision. I thought that by going out I’d forget the look of pain etched on Chloe’s beautiful face. But I woke up this morning and still saw it.
I’m tired of fucking everything up.
Reaching for the water bottle that I propped against the trash can, I squirt a solid stream into my mouth before rinsing and spitting it back out in the trash can. Sweat runs from my pores as I continue to sweat out the liquor from last night.
The guys toss me pitying looks as I make my way over to where Coach is standing on the third base line. Dread pools in my stomach at the conversation that awaits me. The disappointment is settled on his face as well as the anger that is radiating off his body.
“What the fuck is your problem today?”
I stand tall, even though his eyes make me want to cower like a child being scolded by their parent. “It won’t happen again, Coach.”
“No, it won’t happen again unless you want to ride the pine the rest of the season. Get your head out of your ass. Get rested up. And get ready to play your heart out. Now get the hell off my field and out of my sight. You’re dismissed.”
Never have I ever been kicked out of practice. But I can’t say that today’s decision wasn’t warranted.
Head down, I make my way over to our dugout where I quickly gather up my gear before walking through the door that leads underneath the stadium where our locker rooms are located. I don’t stop walking until I exit the stadium. Since the guys are still practicing, I start the fifteen-minute walk back to the house.
If I don’t get my act together, I’m going to end up being the lousy player my dad keeps reminding me that I am.
Enough with the distractions. I need to get my head back in the game.
This game is a joke.
Standing in the back of the dugout, I try to make myself the invisible wallflower I am because the boys, especially Cody, are stinking up the place. After going down four to nothing after the second inning, Coach pulled Cody from the mound, and he’s been sulking on the bench since. His bad attitude has leached into the rest of the team, and no one can get their bats working.
Now at the bottom of the eighth, the Eagles are down seven to one with no sign that a comeback is going to happen.
The energy in the dugout is toxic. I’ve never seen Coach Weber so frustrated with the team. Granted, I’ve never seen the team play this badly before, and I’m lucky enough to get a front-row seat at the chaos. Hudson won’t even look at Cody, let alone talk to him, and I have a sinking suspicion that the gossip on campus was correct. Cody was at the Eagle’s Nest last night and got obliterated.
And I can’t help but feel that it’s my fault.
To be completely honest, I was shocked that he came over last night. After two years of avoiding each other, the day after he caught me with my hands down my pants—literally—he wanted to make nice. Years of not mattering, of feeling like a spot on the wall, now he wanted to apologize.
And to find out he ghosted me because his dad was sick, and he figured we’d never see each other again. Like who does that? Even if we never would’ve seen each other again, doesn’t common courtesy say you should at least text back and let the other person know you are, in fact, still alive?
The sound of a ball connecting with a bat interrupts my thoughts as I watch the other team land another hit to left centerfield.
Hudson and Luke Danners take off after the ball, but Hudson beats him to it. Scooping it up, he throws the ball to Ty at third base who is able to catch it and save a run from scoring. It’s too little, too late, but at least it’s not another scoring play.
