For the Game (10 page)

Cooper

My palm was clammy as I held tightly to the baseball. Bringing my arm back, I geared up for a hard throw. After thrusting forward, I released the ball and it shot from my hand. I watched as it sailed through the air, a streak of white against the blue sky. The sun was warm on my face, and a gentle breeze blew over my head, stirring up my messy hair.

“Nice throw, bud.” Dad caught the ball in his hand, closing his fingers around it. “Our boy has quite the arm.” He turned to Mom who had the video camera trained on me. The lens covered her right eye, giving the illusion that she had one small eye and one giant unblinking one. Mom was petite with cropped blond hair, a funny pairing with my large, muscular dad. I noticed people glancing over curiously when we were out in public. But somehow they fit together perfectly.

I smiled into the camera, beaming.

Mom giggled. “He certainly isn’t camera shy either.”

“Not my boy.” Dad puffed out his chest. Mom smiled in his direction. “Ready, son?” Dad cocked his arm, and I nodded, standing taller. When the ball came at me I opened up my hand and caught it. “All right,” Dad said, clapping his hands.

Mom cheered, and my heart burst in my chest. I loved making them proud.

Adrenaline surging, I tossed the ball back to dad. This time it didn’t quite reach him. Instead, it landed in the thick green reeds of grass near Dad’s feet.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, angry with myself for throwing it before I was ready. I’d gotten too excited and hadn’t taken the time to set up my throw. I may have only been six, but I was already serious about baseball. Dad and I played all the time in the backyard. I hoped to one day be as good as he was.

“It’s fine,” Dad assured me as he plucked the ball out of the grass.

Mom lowered the camera and clicked it off. My heart sank. Was it because I was playing bad now?

“I better check the cookies in the oven.”

My doubts vanished, my stomach growling.

Mom grinned at me. “Looks like someone is hungry for some chocolate chip cookies.” She Mom whirled around. “They should be ready any minute. I’ll bring some out when they are. You boys have fun without me.”

“Oh, we will,” Dad called back. “But not nearly as fun as when you’re out here.”

Mom shook her head, an amused expression on her face.

“When you grow up, I hope you meet someone as special as your mom.” Dad shot me a pointed look. “Don’t settle for anything less, son.”

At six, I had no idea what he was talking about. I thought girls had cooties. Still I agreed with him and said, “Okay.” I may not have understood, but I knew I wanted to be just like my dad when I grew up. He was my hero, the person I looked up to more than anyone in the world. So if marrying someone like my mom was the way to be like him, I would do it.

“You all right, Coop?” Parker gave me a funny look.

I shook my head, willing away the memory. “Yeah, fine.” Swallowing hard, I glanced down at the ball nestled in the grass near Parker’s knee.
Had I really missed that bad?
God, my pitches were erratic today. My mind had been a jumbled mess for weeks. Ever since I’d returned from Christmas break I’d been struggling to hold it together. Memories of my parents plagued me every day. The phone call from the television station had unleashed this strange obsession. For years I’d been successfully ignoring the need to delve into my parents’ death. Now it seemed I could think of nothing else. In my free time I found myself googling every piece of information I could find on the plane crash. And every night I dreamt of my parents. Sometimes the dreams were soothing; memories of when they were alive. But others were haunting; images of them crashing and dying. It was like I’d been catapulted back to ten years old.

And it was affecting my game.

It was reminiscent of when I first fell for London. Only this time it was worse because I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know how to move on. I didn’t know how to get my head back in the game.

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to clear my head. I thought of London, wrongfully assuming it would calm me. But it had the opposite effect. When I was home for Christmas everything was perfect between London and I, but since coming back things seemed strained. And it was my fault. It was this damn TV show and the memories. It was screwing everything up.

I needed to get ahold of myself.

Feeling Coach’s eyes on me, I got in position and looked in to get the sign from Parker. He flashed one finger and patted the inside of his left thigh. Fastball inside.
Get it together, Coop. Come on, you’ve got this.
Honing in, I took aim and threw the ball. It was pretty steady, but not hard enough. Not shitty, but not at all what I was capable of. My stomach tightened. Parker narrowed his eyes at me in concern.
Damn it, I was screwed.

My grandparents thought that maybe taking part in the show would help me regain some control. Like it would give me closure or some shit like that. Maybe they were right, but I wasn’t sure I could do it. I’d spent a lifetime distancing myself from the crash. Why would I suddenly throw myself in the center of it?

But I had to do something. If not, I would destroy everything I’d worked so hard for.

“Hey, you need someone to show you how it’s done, Mini-Coop?” Ace came up beside me.

I ground my teeth together. “I don’t need lessons from the fourth starter, but thanks.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be fourth starter for much longer.” A cocky grin spread across his face, and my stomach rolled.
Did he know something I didn’t?

My gaze swung to Parker who lowered his gaze instead of making eye contact.
Shit.

“Told you you couldn’t hang with the big boys.” Snorting, Ace stepped around me, purposefully ramming his shoulder into mine. “See ya later, Mini.”

Mini-Coop was bad enough, but when he shortened it, it sort of sounded like he was calling me Minnie, like Minnie Mouse. My skin crawled. I missed Nate and the guys from high school. I missed London. Hell, I missed everything about home. But most of all, I missed my confidence. That’s the main thing I needed to get back.

When practice ended, I headed back to my dorm with purpose. It was time to get my head out of my ass and pull my shit together, even if it took every spare minute I had. It was time to get back the Cooper that I was before all this stuff messed with my head. I’d been spending too much time obsessing about my parents and pining away for London. Home was great, but I wasn’t there anymore. I was here. And I needed to be present. I needed to focus.

Damn it, I wasn’t going home with my tail between my legs. God, I’d been acting like a pussy since I’d gotten here. No wonder Ace had called me Mini-Coop. But that wasn’t me. I wasn’t weak, and I wasn’t the punch line to some stupid joke.

I was a fighter.

I was a winner.

And goddammit, I was going to win.

When I reached the dorm room I was greeted by Charlotte and Justin. By the looks of things I was interrupting something, but I didn’t care. Frankly, I was irritated. Justin may have been here to fool around, but I wasn’t. I was on a mission, and I was done letting him walk all over me. This was just as much my dorm as it was his. Right now it was time for me to get some homework done, and I wanted to do it in my dorm room. Throwing my bag on the ground, I perched on the edge of my bed and peeled off my shoes.

“How was practice?” Charlotte asked, smoothing down her unruly hair while Justin threw on a shirt.

“Fine,” I answered curtly, not wishing to share the ugly details with Charlotte or Justin.

“That’s good.” Charlotte smiled, clearly oblivious to my mood. I guess that was one nice thing about being around people who didn’t really know me. I could stew in my own anger without them picking up on it. “Hey, are you ready for the history test tomorrow?”

I nodded. “Pretty much. I do need to study a little tonight though.” Glancing up, I looked at both of them pointedly hoping they’d get the hint. They didn’t.

“Yeah, I should probably study too.” Charlotte sighed, but didn’t move. I wondered if she studied at all or if she was like Justin. From what I’d seen, my money was on the latter.

“Who are you kidding? You’re not gonna study tonight.” Justin jabbed her in the side with his elbow, and she giggled.

“Well, I need to. I’m practically flunking out of the class,” she said.

I reached for my history notebook. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Her gaze locked with mine. “I bet you’re getting an A, huh?”

I nodded. No sense denying it. I might have been falling apart in baseball, but I was at least still maintaining good grades.

She exhaled loudly. “I don’t know how you do it. I’m so lost in that class.”

“How can you be lost?” I set the notebook in my lap. “It’s just lectures and tests. As long as you take good notes, you’re golden.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” She groaned. “I can’t focus in that class. The lectures are so damn boring that my mind always wanders.”

I thought about how distracted I’d been and nodded with understanding.

“Maybe Cooper could help you,” Justin offered, and I glanced over at him curiously. I’d never known him to care about grades, let alone encourage someone to get help.

“I wish I could. I just have a lot on my plate right now,” I said swiftly. The last thing I needed was to get roped into helping someone else. I had enough of my own problems.

Charlotte’s face fell. “It’s fine. I understand.”

Now I felt like an ass. “Um…well…I mean, I have some math homework to do too. Maybe I could let you copy my notes while I’m doing math. That would help you study.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows jumped up. “Okay. Let me go grab my backpack and I’ll be right back.” Like a whirlwind, she hurried out of the room.

“Hey, thanks, man.” Justin slapped me on the shoulder. “I appreciate you getting her out of my hair for awhile.”

“What?” My chest tightened as Justin grabbed his jacket. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. I gotta get out. That chick is super clingy, man. She acts like we’re a couple or something.”

“You’re not? Cause you could’ve fooled me.”

“Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. She’s around me all the goddamn time. I can’t shake her.”

“I thought you liked her.” I furrowed my brows, puzzled.

“I do. I mean, she’s a hot piece of ass. Am I right?”

“Um… I guess.” Charlotte was pretty. I mean, not like London, but she wasn’t bad. Still I felt uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

“But you know me, man. I don’t want to be tied down. That’s your thing.”

“Look, Justin, I’ve got a lot of stuff going on right now. I can’t be babysitting your girl.”

“She’s not my girl, okay.” He moved toward the door. “And I don’t need you to babysit her. Just keep her busy tonight.”

“Justin!” I called after him, but it was too late. He’d already left.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I shook my head.
What a dick.
I should have known that he hadn’t changed. He was the same guy he was when I first met him. While waiting for Charlotte to return I gathered all my history notes. Damn, there were a lot. If she wanted to copy them all she’d be here all night. My stomach knotted at the thought. This idea was getting worse by the minute.
Why had I even offered to help?
It was because I was too nice. I always had been. I never knew when to say no.

“Where’s Justin?” Charlotte asked when she came back.

“Um.” I scratched the back of my neck. I was certain he wouldn’t care if I told her the truth, but the last thing I wanted to do was get in the middle of this. “He just needed to step out for a little while. Had some things to take care of.”

“Oh.” Her face held a skeptical look, but at least she didn’t press the issue.

“Here are the notes.” I tossed them to her.

“Shit,” she breathed out, causing an involuntary chuckle to rise in my throat.

“Yeah, there’s a lot.”

“I guess that’s why you’re getting an A.” She plopped down on Justin’s bed and spread the notes in her lap. “Well, I better get to work.”

“Yep.” Leaning back on my bed, I pulled out my math book and binder. From my back pocket my phone buzzed. Charlotte bent over her notebook, pencil poised in her hand while I glanced at the caller ID. When I saw London’s name on the screen my stomach knotted. It’s not that I wasn’t happy to hear from her, but I was so busy tonight. It seemed that I had been busy every time she called this week. I hated having to cut our conversations short; hated knowing she was disappointed.

I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” London responded. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said. “Just busy. I have two tests tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Silence filled the line, making me feel like shit. “I guess I’ll let you go then.”

“Everything okay with you?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Everything’s peachy.”

London never used words like “peachy.”