Playing the Game (22 page)

“
I will. I promise,” I
assured him. I bid him goodbye and headed for the
elevators.

***

“…
and so he told me to
come back in a year if I want,” I said as I perched on a stool in
Gwen’s shop.

“
That’s good,” she said as
she rearranged a display of trinkets. “So you have that option.”
She turned to me, hand on the tiny bump barely visible beneath her
t-shirt. “What are you going to do next?”

“
I meet with a counselor
at the community college tomorrow,” I said, trying to hide the
anxiety in my voice.

“
I’m glad you’re doing
this,” Gwen said. “You need to spread your wings.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Whatever.”

She pulled up another stool, setting it next
to me, eyes roving my face as she sat. “You look like you could use
a couple extra hours of sleep.”

I shrugged. “It’s hard to sleep with Jess
gone.”

She beamed while heat flooded my cheeks.
“Ah, new love. I remember. You’re staying with him, right?”

“
Yes but only
temporarily.”

Her brows pulled together. “Why?”

“
I’ve never lived alone.
I’d like to give it a try.”

She snorted. “It’s not all it’s cracked up
to be but go ahead. You’re probably right.” She laughed and I
stared suspiciously at her, not finding her humor. “If you moved in
with Jess, Mom would probably have a fit. Two disowned
daughters.”

“
Yeah,” I muttered, heart
falling to the floor.

“
Hey,” Gwen said, voice
softening. “Just go talk to her if it bothers you this much. She’ll
listen.”

“
I will. I want to get my
life sorted first,” I insisted.

“
Trying to prove a point?”
Gwen asked with raised brow.

“
Maybe. But not to throw
it in her face. I just want to show her that I can do
it.”

“
Good luck with that,”
Gwen said with a smirk.

***

Rihanna Winters was friendly. And
understanding. Those were my first impressions of the counselor.
Once again I was ushered into an office and coaxed to state my
needs and wishes.

“
I’m not exactly sure what
I want to do,” I moaned.

The attractive brunette just laughed. “Not a
whole lot of new students do. You don’t need to declare a major
right away. Why don’t you just take the general, required classes
first and allow yourself to adjust to college life.”

I could do that. I’d been a decent student
in high school – earning mostly A’s and B’s.

She sent me to a private room to take an
entrance exam. I struggled through it, digging in the deep recesses
of my mind to recall my arithmetic lessons, and handed it back.
Once she graded it, she sat me down again to discuss the classes I
should take. Then she held my hand during the entire registration
process.

Of course the address line stumped me.

“
Um, I’m currently staying
with a friend until I find a place of my own,” I explained. I
waited for the wariness to seep into her eyes but it never
did.

“
That’s okay. Just put
your friend’s address down and when you do move, you can change
it.”

Easy enough. I carefully scrawled Jess’s
address in the provided space, enjoying too much that it was
currently my address, also.

Once all the forms were completed, the ugly
subject of money arose. I explained that I had no job and only a
small savings account. Of course Rihanna had an answer for that and
escorted me to the Financial Aid department where I had to fill out
even more forms.

I left the campus drained and a little leery
about what classes would be like if the registration process was so
rigorous.

But as I settled on Jess’s sofa, my heart
lightened and my mood lifted. I was officially a college
student.

I turned on the TV to watch the game, my
already good mood jubilant as I remembered Jess was scheduled to
pitch.

I caught the tail end of the National Anthem
and smiled a little at the song. I had to laugh as I imagined that
to be our song – Jess and I. It was the thing that had brought us
back together after all. I laughed harder as I imagined us in a
dimly lit ballroom, Jess handsome in a black tuxedo and me in a
white gown, dancing close to the Star Spangled Banner.

The laughter died on my
lips as I realized what I was thinking. I swallowed as my heart
pounded. Did I really think Jess would
marry
me? He didn’t even introduce
me as his girlfriend – merely as Aubrey. So what the hell was I
thinking?

“
I’m thinking that I love
him and the only thing I’m absolutely sure of in my life is that I
want to be with him,” I stated aloud. It didn’t sound so silly when
the words were spoken. But it made me wonder what
he
wanted. I was too
afraid to ask.

I shook the haunting thoughts from my head
and concentrated on the game. Derrick was up to bat, leading off,
and he managed to coax a walk out of the starting pitcher. I paid
little attention until the Racers were retired without scoring and
Jess took the field. I watched his long form wind-up and drill a
warm-up pitch to the catcher.

He retired the first two batters and smirked
as the Oliver Wendell strutted to the plate. Wendell, I knew from
Jess, was the league’s leader in home runs and on base percentage.
He was tough but Jess was more than ready for him. He always loved
a challenge.

Mesmerized as Jess whizzed a couple fast
balls past him, I wore my own smirk as Wendell grew more and more
frustrated. When Jess fooled him with a breaking ball that just cut
the corner for strike three, Wendell slammed his bat down, shooting
Jess a menacing glare. Jess grinned as he trotted off the mound for
the dugout.

The bad blood between Jess and Wendell
increased as the game progressed - so did my anxiety. I hoped Jess
would be pulled from the game soon before anything could happen but
I knew that wasn’t likely. The match was too close, the Racers with
a slim 2-0 lead, and Jess wasn’t close to tiring.

When Wendell came to the
plate in the third and struck out again, he exchanged heated words
with Jess. Undaunted, Jess took a few steps off the mound toward
Wendell but the umpire came between them, issuing a warning to both
benches. I gritted my teeth, running the words over and over in my
head that I planned to scream at Jess when he called later that
night.
Childish
,
immature
,
and
idiot
were a
few of the nicer ones.

When the bottom of the sixth came around,
Wendell finally figured out Jess’s rhythm. He connected with a fast
ball and sent it to the wall, earning a double. Although I couldn’t
hear it, I could see the string of profanities coming from Jess’s
mouth. The announcers calling the game wondered at Jess’s anger.
They remarked that it wasn’t as if he had a no-hitter going but I
knew better. He didn’t much care for Oliver Wendell or the
arrogant, I’m-better-than-you attitude he displayed on the field
and to the media. As arrogant as Jess could be, he was nowhere near
the caliber of Oliver Wendell.

Jess was ruffled – it didn’t take a genius
to figure that out. The next batter hit one up the middle and
luckily Wendell was only able to advance to third. The heat was on
and Jess strolled around the mound, tossing the rosin bag up,
letting it flop on his hand. He stepped on the rubber and stared at
his catcher, watching the signs. He shook off the first two before
standing and glancing at the runners over his shoulder. Wendell was
dancing up and down the third base line, daring Jess to try and
pick him off. Ignoring him, Jess delivered a nasty curve to the
plate. The batter swung and missed.

My heart thumped in my chest. Just one out
and he’d get out of this jam. Just one strikeout and Jess could get
in the dugout and cool off.

But his next pitch bounced wildly off the
plate and rolled toward the wall. The catcher flipped off his mask,
scrambling after it. Jess ran home to cover the plate as the
catcher found the ball and tossed it to him.

I held my breath as I watched Wendell barrel
down the line and screamed as Wendell plowed into Jess, knocking
him into the air. I didn’t hear the umpire’s call as Jess fell to
the ground on his left shoulder. I didn’t see the catcher shake off
his glove as he ran after Wendell. I didn’t see the dugouts clear
as players charged the field.

My eyes were on Jess, lying motionless
behind home plate. I watched the trainer rush to him followed by
the manager who ignored the brawling players. The announcers were
having a hey-day as they exclaimed over the fighting players,
ignoring Jess’s still form.

Finally, Troy Neal noticed that Jess wasn’t
joining in the ruckus. He trotted over to check on him. The melee
began to die down as more and more Racers realized their pitcher
wasn’t getting up either to join them or to limp to the locker
room.

I paced in front of the TV, squatting before
it every once in awhile, until the station cut to commercial.

My cell rang and I charged for my bag to
find it.

“
Kendra?” was my
breathless greeting.

“
No, it’s Gwen. Are you
watching the game?”

“
Yes. Why did they have to
cut to commercial? Is he okay, do you think?” I rambled, my voice
shaky and contorted.

“
I don’t know, honey,”
Gwen cooed. “Why don’t you try to call Kendra?”

I nodded, unthinkingly and hung up. I dialed
Kendra’s number with trembling fingers, cursing strong enough to
impress Jess when she didn’t answer. The game was back on and I
cursed again through my sobs as an ambulance drove onto the field.
Two EMS medics kneeled over Jess, their fingers peeling back his
eyelids.

Holding my breath, I watched as they loaded
Jess onto a stretcher and shoved him into the back of the
ambulance. The stadium was dead silent as the ambulance pulled away
and I called Gwen again.

“
Take me to the airport,”
I insisted. I calculated in my head how much room I had on my
credit card, hoping that if it wasn’t enough, Gwen would loan me
the rest. I’d pay her back somehow. “Now.”

“
Aubrey,” she began in a
patronizing voice.

“
Fine, I’ll call a cab,” I
said, rifling through Jess’s office for a phone book. I didn’t
remember how I’d gotten there but it didn’t matter.

“
I’m on my way. Be ready,”
Gwen sighed.

I returned to the living room and watched as
a new pitcher warmed up on the mound. The announcers had no news
for me except a list of ejected players and I cursed them. If I
hadn’t been so worried I was sure I’d be ashamed of my mouth. But I
had no time for such petty emotions.

I remembered Gwen was on her way so I dashed
to Jess’s bedroom to pack some clothes. My phone rang just as I
zipped the bag.

“
Aubrey, it’s
Kendra.”

“
Kendra,” I gushed. “How
is he? Where is he?”

“
Hold on, honey,” she
said. “I’m on my way to the hospital now. No one knows anything yet
but he was hit pretty hard.”

“
I saw.” I sniffed as I
shut off the television. “My sister is on her way to take me to the
airport. I’ll call you when I land, okay?”

“
Okay,” she said, trying
to sound bright. “I’m sure Jess will be pissed that you flew all
the out here for this but I don’t blame you. I’d do the same
thing.”

She was trying to be positive for both our
sakes but I could hear the worry in her voice. That scared me all
the more. She’d witnessed it firsthand.

Gwen honked and I was out the door.

“
Gwen’s here. I’ll call
you soon.” I said, running to the car. “And Kendra, if you get to
see him, tell him I love him.”

“
I will,” she
promised.

Ending the call, I prepared for the longest
trip of my life.

Chapter Eighteen

The plane took forever. When it finally
touched down, I shook my leg impatiently, waiting for the seat belt
light to extinguish.

I pushed through the passengers, ignoring
the rude comments from some of them, and made my way to the
terminal. I searched frantically for Kendra, hoping she’d be there
already. I’d called her on the in-flight phone to give her my
flight number and arrival time.

“
Aubrey!”

Whirling around, I spotted her lounging
against a wall. I hoisted my small bag further up my shoulder and
jostled my way over to her. “How is he?”

Kendra took my arm, pulling me through the
crowd. “I don’t know.”

“
I thought you went to the
hospital?” I asked, alarmed.

“
I did. Do you have
luggage?”

“
No. Kendra, what’s going
on?” My heart was pounding in my chest and my mouth turned as dry
as the desert.

She continued yanking on my arm as we rushed
through the airport to the parking garage. Releasing my arm, she
led me to a rental car and unlocked its doors.

“
I did go to the hospital
but they wouldn’t tell me anything because I’m not family,” she
explained. She whipped the little sedan out of the parking spot and
raced down the ramps to the gate. She shoved the ticket in and paid
her fee before joining traffic. “The hospital isn’t far from
here.”

“
So you don’t know if he’s
even awake?”