Page 37 of Faking Summer
There was an almost imperceptible pause as the moment hung suspended, and then she wiped a tear just as quickly as it fell—relief marking her face. I lifted my cup with a steady hand. "Cheers," I said, the word slipping out.
"I do have something I want to ask you before we go," I said, curiously.
"Ask away," she murmured, sliding her purse onto her shoulder.
"After all this time," I began, "why are you finally trying now?"
She exhaled slowly. "Honestly, I had given up hope for a long time." Her hands, once steady, now shook as she clasped them tightly together. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me, hated me even. But when I finally came back to Bayside and saw you pitching last summer, I saw it."
“Saw what?”
She reached across the table, her fingers brushing against the pendant on my chest—it had become as much a part of me as my own skin.
"This. It was my father’s," she said softly as she traced the outline of it. “I hoped... I hoped that maybe it meant a part of you was still holding on."
"I've hardly ever taken it off since I was younger... I've never really known why it means so much to me."
Across from me, she smiled as she said, "you're a lot like him, you know—my father. He loved Bayside, grew up here too." She looked out the window. "He had this charm about him; you couldn't help but love him—the whole town did."
“Sounds like someone I’d get along well with,” I said, now understanding my attachment to it.
We rose from our table, and she gave me a hesitant hug. "I'll text you tomorrow," she murmured. "To see if you'd like to meet up again soon." I held open the door and nodded as she made her way to the parking lot.
I lingered for a moment, gathering my thoughts. I was turning to leave when she walked. Caroline, with her mother and sister. Her sister carried a binder with colorful tabs peeking out from the edge.
"Caroline, you didn't tell us Reese was joining us," Her mom said accusingly.
I caught her faltering step. Our eyes locked for a split second, panic flaring across her face.
"Oh," she stammered, voice cracking, "must have slipped my mind."
I stepped back aside as Caroline and her family traipsed in.
"After you," I murmured, gesturing toward the vacant tables with a flick of my wrist.
Caroline's mother halted mid-stride, her gaze lifting to meet mine. "I still can't get over this." She looked up at me. "Reese, I've been telling Caroline to bring you by the house."
We drifted toward a booth bathed in the soft glow of afternoon light, which filtered through half-drawn blinds. I slid into the space next to Caroline, our elbows brushing. Before I could respond to Mrs. Matthews, Caroline responded for me. "Mom, I told you. He's been so busy—you know, winning championship games and Blue Devils stuff."
"I'm never too busy for you, Care Bear."
Caroline reacted exactly how I thought she would, in the form of a discreet kick under the table. And it took every ounce of restraint not to let out the laugh I was holding. I caught the deadly glint in her eyes as she hit me with her best glare, but it only fired me up. There was a thrill in the deception of this whole thing, in seeing her react. With a slow grin, I reached across the table and took Caroline's hand in mine. She stiffened, knowing she couldn't pull away without raising suspicion, not with her mother's hawk-like gaze tracing our every movement.
What I didn’t see coming? The warmth. The softness of her skin. There was this undeniable tension between us. Holding her hand, I couldn’t ignore how effortlessly hers fit in mine, how smooth her skin felt against the roughness of my calloused fingers. This was supposed to be just an act, but damn… it was already affecting me more than I realized.
"Reese," Charlotte said, opening her binder. "The whole town istalking about how amazing you were. They needed that championship win."
"I'm glad we could make them proud."
Caroline's mother fixed her eyes on me before she said, "You must have every major league team interested in you.”
"I don't know about that," I answered, giving my best attempt at modesty.
"By the way, if you want to get to that thing you had to do today, you're totally welcome to leave here early, Reese," Caroline said earnestly. "I know you don't want to sit around for wedding talk."
"Actually," I said, the words slipping out with ease, "I happen to love wedding talk." It wasn't true, but I couldn’t pass up any opportunity to aggravate her.
"Oh, do you now?" Caroline glared, and I squeezed her thigh in response.
