“It’s good to see you again, Jeff,” Coach Jackson said, reaching over to shake Coach Dilmore’s hand.
“What are you doing here?” Coach Dilmore demanded, ignoring the gesture.
“Came to meet Mikey, what else?” Coach Jackson answered, looking pleased as Sebastian came to a stop next to Mikey and took her trembling hand in his.
Swallowing nervously, Coach Dilmore’s gaze flickered to Mikey. “She’s not supposed to be here. She was kicked off the team.”
“So, I’ve heard,” Coach Jackson said, not really sounding all that concerned as he gestured for the man that had been holding the clipboard to hand it over to him. “What position did you have her playing?”
“I didn’t,” Coach Dilmore said evenly. “She couldn’t keep up with the rest of the team.”
“You’re telling me that a fourteen-year-old girl who can throw a hundred and one mile an hour fastball couldn’t keep up with your team, which hasn’t won a single game all season?” Coach Jackson asked, shaking his head in disbelief as he glanced back down at the clipboard in his hand.
“A hundred and one?” Coach Dilmore asked hollowly, looking like he was going to be sick.
“Mmmmhmm, although I believe with a little practice that she’ll be able to throw faster in time, and we’re more than happy to help her achieve that at Latin Scribe High School next year.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Coach Dilmore said, holding up his hand to argue with him, but Coach Jackson had already focused his attention back on Mikey.
“What do you say, Mikey? Come play for me next year as my starting pitcher?” Coach Jackson asked with a hopeful smile.
Mikey’s lips pulled up into a beautiful smile only to slip away seconds later with a softly whispered, “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think my parents can afford the tuition,” she admitted, looking absolutely crushed.
“Which is why it’s probably a good thing that Latin Scribe is offering you a full athletic scholarship,” Coach Jackson said, shooting her a wink.
“Really?” Mikey asked, looking like she was about to burst with joy.
“Really,” Coach Jackson reassured her with a firm nod.
She opened her mouth only to close it as she looked at Sebastian and–
&
nbsp; “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just say yes,” Sebastian promised her as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“But–”
“Please don’t make me kill you,” Sebastian said, sighing heavily as though the idea pained him.
Lips twitching, she turned to Coach Jackson and said, “Yes.”
Smiling hugely, Coach Jackson looked at Coach Dilmore, who looked like he was going to be sick and said, “I guess we’ll see you next year.”
At that, Mrs. Blaine looked up at Sebastian and said, “I guess it’s your turn now,” making him frown.
“My turn for what?”
*-*-*-*
“This was a bad idea,” Sebastian said only to follow that up with a nod as he sat there, watching numbly as Mrs. Blaine told the receptionist that he was there to speak with the Dean.
“I told you that everything would work out for the best,” Mikey said as she rolled the baseball that he gave her between her hands as she looked around the large office, taking in all the old portraits hanging on the wall.
“You told me nothing, you little pain in the ass,” he whispered softly as he sat there trying not to panic.