Page 67 of Spotlight
“You cannot see my expression from that far away.”
“I can,” I insist.
“You are so full of it.” Her eyes narrow in disbelief, but her lips curve into a smile.
I should go. She needs sleep and I need to run by my apartment before practice. But I don’t want this night to end. The only thing that gets me up is the hope that this won’t be the last time.
“All right. I better go. Tell Greer I said to feel better, and if you need more medicine or food, I know all the best spots.”
She laughs.
“Text you later?” I ask, still not wanting to leave. My gaze drops to her mouth. All night I’ve thought about kissing her, but it hasn’t felt like the right moment with everything else going on.
Her stare is locked on me, and I think maybe she’s thinking the same thing. “Sounds good.”
I force myself to my feet, then take one more sip of coffee before I hold it out to her. “Here, I think you need it more than me.”
She takes a drink and then coughs. “That is straight sugar.”
“Sweet, just like me.” I wink at her.
She shakes her head at me as I head toward the door. Damn, I really,reallydon’t want to leave.
“Take care of yourself.”
She nods. “Later, Hotshot.”
* * *
Practice is killer. I’m dragging from lack of sleep, and my mind wanders to Olivia and Greer every second the ball isn’t in my hands.
“Better. Sink in a little more on that back hip as you drive forward. You’re opening up a little fast,” Coach Wayne says.
I nod, taking in his words as I kick at the dirt with the toe of my shoe. Despite my no-hitter a couple of weeks ago, I’ve struggled ever since. I’m back to throwing like shit. Every fifth pitch or so is right on the mark, but I can’t find it with any consistency. It’s the most frustrating thing to know I’m capable of so much more but can’t do it every time I step onto the mound.
When we finish up, I head to the locker room with JT. The atmosphere all around me is optimistic and happy. I feel like the only black cloud.
JT smiles as I drop to the bench with a groan, sweat pouring off me.
“Chin up, Holland. You’ll get it.”
“Will I?” I ask, not really expecting an answer.
He chuckles. “I remember feeling the same way you do right now.”
That gets my attention. “You do?”
“My first year, I stepped onto the field every day with the weight of my future bearing down on me.”
“This is different. I already blew it once. I don’t know how many more chances I’m going to get.”
“You just threw a no-hitter.” He shakes my shoulder and laughs. “No one is looking at you right now thinking you’re blowing anything.”
I crack a smile, but it doesn’t last long.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. One day at a time.”
“Patience is not my strong suit. I was pitching in the biggest games of baseball last season and now I’m…” I trail off.
