“You kissed me.”
“Yeah, and I really want to do it again.” His breathing is heavy. I can see the rise and fall of his chest clearly with each breath. My eyes travel down his body, seeing the bulge in his pants. I’m doing that to him.
“We can’t—"
“Why the hell not?” Did he forget he doesn't even like me? I’m also pretty sure he got most of the school to ignore me. I lift my chin, telling myself to stand up for myself.
“Because you're a big bully.” I poke him in his hard chest with my finger. His lips twitch, but I keep going. “You made it very clear how you felt about me the other night in your car…”
“Babe.”
“Don’t babe me, I'm still talking,” I snip back. “Then you did something to get everyone not to talk to me at school. You made me the outcast. I bet you have no idea what that feels like. It sucks, and it's lonely. And well, just plain mean. I don’t want to be the outcast anymore.” He looks a bit shocked. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but it’s the truth.” I promised myself once I was out of my old life that I would speak up for myself.
“GG, you don’t apologize after you chew someone’s ass out.”
“Chew someone’s…” I trail off, unable to get the words out of my mouth.
The door to the room swings open suddenly. “Hey. You kids can’t be in here,” an older man holding a broom in one hand tells us.
“I’m sorry I broke the rules. It won’t happen again,” I tell him. He seems shocked by my words too. “I hope you have a good night,” I add before I flee the storage room knowing I’m never going to forget that kiss.
Chapter Thirteen
Colt
The bus rumbles home, and the dust of the road feels like it has baked into my skin. There’s grit in my eyes from the sand that I can’t rub out, and my ears are still ringing from the sound of the aluminum bats making contact with the ball. In front of me, Tommy is talking about the latest hype sneaker drop that he lost out on, and now the shoes are selling for three times their retail on StockX. Dean is whining on the phone to his old man about how we need motivation. Our spirits are lagging due to the two and six record we chalked up on our two consecutive weeks of road games. In the seat next to me, Logan’s playing a mobile game, cursing out the characters on the screen and muttering about how his thumbs are too big for this stupid ass of a game.
As for me, I’m re-reading reports. I haven’t had more than a few glimpses of GG since our kiss in the supply closet at the mall. Baseball, the sport that I loved more than breathing, is consuming my time. I used to love that about the spring and summer. I could throw myself into the game, live on the field with fresh cut grass, the dirt on the mound, the sun beating down on the top of my head. It was an escape and a paradise all in one. But now it feels more like a chore that I have to get through before I can arrive at the good stuff. Maybe that’s why my pitching has been off. I did get those two wins, but they were hard ones, and I threw almost three hundred pitches. My arm’s going to be dead going into the summer if I don’t get my head back in the game.
Even as I tell myself this, I can’t stop scrolling through my texts. An army of underclassmen have kept me advised of GG’s activities. She takes basic courses—none of the AP stuff—but isn’t required to do any of the midterms or finals. She’s already tested out of all the courses, so she’s just here for the experience. But what experience? The thing is she doesn’t do much unless she’s with Tricia. They shop and study at the coffee shop, and they saw a girl gang movie. One underclassman lives on the same block and told me he didn’t even realize her grandparents had a grandkid. He’d never seen her before.
I like that she’s not hanging out where a bunch of guys could be sniffing around, but the reports make her out to be lonely, which I’m not a fan of. Tomorrow we have a day off from practice. I’m going to take her somewhere—not as a date, because I don’t date—but just as a nice neighborly thing. Even though I’m not her neighbor.
I know the perfect place, too. It’s one of my favorite spots in the city. I know she’s going to love it.
* * *
“You hate this, don’t you?” I say to GG, who keeps looking down at the bat in her hands like it’s a foreign object.