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  A loud whistle blew, scaring the shit out of me. I jumped and looked out the passenger window to see an airport cop waving us along. We’d been sitting at the curb for too long.

  Thank God.

  “I gotta go,” I said before getting out of my car and heading toward the trunk, where my bags were waiting.

  It would be so much easier to have my car with me in California. I really hated asking people for rides. It was embarrassing. And now, I had to ask someone new to tote my non-driving ass around since Chance was gone.

  The least he could have done was leave me his car, I thought for a moment before remembering that he had given me the master suite in the baseball house, so I couldn’t really be too pissed.

  The most coveted room in the house was about to be mine. Although I would have preferred getting drafted instead and not needing the room at all.

  I walked toward the double glass doors when the sound of DD’s voice stopped me. “Focus on your future, Mackenzie. It’s time to start letting this pipe dream go. We made a deal,” he reminded me before rolling up the window and driving off.

  I stood there, bags in hand, heart on the fucking floor.

  The deal.

  My dad had forced me to agree that if I didn’t get drafted, I’d come work for his tax prep company after I graduated. He even made me sign a contract. At eighteen years old, I wrote my name on the dotted line, too naive to know better. He’d used Fullton State as his bargaining chip. It was the only way he’d allow me to move to California and pay for what the scholarship didn’t cover, which was some hefty out-of-state tuition costs. I’d like to think I’d have rebelled and gone to school there anyway without his help, but I wasn’t sure that I would have. More than likely, I’d have opted to stay in Arizona and played baseball at some second-rate college instead. And I would have felt like I was drowning in all that hot air.

  It burned like hell, knowing that my dad, of all people, didn’t believe in me or my ability. Every time he told me to give up on baseball, it felt like a fucking knife to the chest. I’d barely been able to breathe the first time I heard him say it. He knew how much I loved the sport. He saw how hard I worked, how much I planned for a future in it, and how dedicated I was to the game. But none of it mattered. He never believed in me, and that was the kind of shit that left you with scars you couldn’t see.

  Punching in the numbers at the kiosk, I waited for it to print my baggage claim stickers and wrapped them around the handles of my duffel bags before heading toward the counter to drop them off. The ticket lady was sort of hot, but even flirting with her didn’t make me feel better, and I walked in the direction of the security line, my head all sorts of fucked up.

  Boys are So Frustrating

  Sunny

  I was simultaneously looking forward and dreading heading back for my senior year at Fullton State. Danika, my best friend and ex-roommate, was in Florida with her boyfriend, Chance Carter, the baseball superstar, and I was all alone.

  I hated being alone.

  Anytime Danika had left to go visit her dad back home in New York when we lived together, I’d drive the whopping forty-five minutes away from campus and go home too. That was how much I hated being in our apartment by myself. Most people reveled in their solitary, but I just wasn’t one of them. To put it bluntly, I was scared and uncomfortable. It wasn’t like I had some giant guard dog to keep me safe from intruders or anything.

  But over the summer, I’d decided that it was time to face my fears. I had to grow up and start adulting at some point, so I moved into a one-bedroom apartment in the same complex where Danika and I had lived for the past two years. A single bedroom, where I could do whatever I wanted.

  Alone.

  By myself.

  With no one else around.

  I wouldn’t have even been in this situation in the first place if I hadn’t switched majors. It put me a full year behind, so when Danika graduated last year, I still had one more to go before I got my degree. It was my own fault, but I wasn’t too mad about it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and this bought me a little more time before I felt like a complete loser.

  I envied that part of Mac, even more so after our phone call. He had so much passion and drive. I never talked about anything in my life the way he talked about baseball.

  I pondered that for a minute before remembering that I really freaking hated the quiet, so I started wearing a hole in the carpet by walking back and forth, trying to calm myself down. Turning on music didn’t help. Distracting myself with some stupid flying bird game on my phone wasn’t enough either. For the most part, I was fine during the day, but it was the nights that seemed to wreak havoc on my imagination.

  Maybe I should ask my parents for one of their dogs. Something to cuddle with whenever I thought the boogeyman was going to murder me in my sleep. Or worse, while I was still awake.

  Without thinking, I found myself in the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients I needed to bake some chocolate chip cookies—with sea salt flakes sprinkled on top, of course. Concentrating on baking seemed to quiet my mind even though I could do it with my eyes closed. Mixing and measuring helped me forget to be scared. Or that I was alone in a ground-floor apartment that anyone could access if they really wanted to. I glanced up at the giant sliding glass door that led to a small patio for only a second before checking my mixer, making sure the butter and sugars were thoroughly combined.

  The only other time I could remember forgetting to be terrified was the night I’d spent hours on the phone with Mac after the draft. He confessed so many things about the state of his heart when it came to baseball that the fact that I was desperately alone in my apartment had completely slipped my mind. I loved getting to know him that way, and I honestly thought we’d shared something special during that conversation, but then the little jerk went and ignored me for the rest of the summer. All of my texts and messages went unanswered. Eventually, I stopped sending them. I could only take feeling like an idiot so many times. He’d gotten what he needed that night, and then he’d moved on like I’d never existed.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised that Mac disappeared on me right after opening up. I had known exactly what kind of guy he was, and I’d gone and caught feelings for him anyway, against my own better judgment. Where all the other guys in the past had lied and spewed out promises and pretty words to get what they wanted, Mac had been open and honest right from the start.

  There were no false pretenses with him. He gave you exactly what he told you he would. And then it was up to you to decide if you could handle it or not. When we’d first met, he’d let me know right off the bat that he wasn’t looking for anything serious and that he wasn’t boyfriend material. We’d made out all night, no strings attached, and I’d convinced myself that it had been refreshing to meet someone like him, someone who wasn’t lying just so they could get in my pants.

  I’d even told Danika once that I respected Mac’s honesty. She’d laughed.

  Laughed.

  And then told me that I deserved more than a guy who wanted to make out and walk away in the same breath.

  It was the truth. Of course I deserved more, but at the time, I pretended that it was enough. Then, he’d had to go and give me a peek at the real guy inside, and it’d wrecked me. I remembered hanging up the phone that night, shaking with the weight of his confessions, all of his words swirling inside my mind and tugging at my heart. I’d realized that I wanted to continue being the one Mac confided in, and I didn’t want to lie to myself about it anymore.

  I’d known better than to have more than a crush on him, but damn if every girl in the history of the world didn’t want to be the one girl a guy altered his heart for. We all craved being the one who was different than all the rest. The one girl who changed it all. The one he broke all his rules for. And I wanted that girl to be me.

  There was something between us, and I knew it. My head told me that was exactly why Mac had disappeared on me ... becau
se he knew it too. It was his defense mechanism, and I’d let him use it on me. I’d gone away quietly even though I didn’t want to. Even though I wanted the exact opposite, but I had no idea how to go about getting it.

  I’d eventually gotten so frustrated with being ignored by him that I talked to Danika about it, who in turn talked to Chance about it, but neither one of them was any help at all. Chance didn’t even offer to call Mac and force him to fall in love with me or anything! No, he’d basically said that Mac was a lost cause and he couldn’t figure him out either. Which I knew was a lie because boys never tried to figure out shit. That was what women were for.

  Pulling the first batch of cookies out of the oven, I opened up a social media app on my phone. Someone had posted earlier that there was a welcome-back party at the baseball house tonight, and I still wasn’t sure what to do. I was a walking contradiction of feelings and emotions, trying to navigate waters I was completely unfamiliar with.

  Mac would obviously be there, but I didn’t know if I could handle going there all by myself. The last thing I wanted to do was look like some desperate groupie, and I was afraid that if I went, that was exactly how it might come off.

  I decided to text Danika.

  SUNNY: Baseball party tonight. Should I go?

  DANIKA: Why wouldn’t you?

  SUNNY: Uh, because I’d have to go alone. And Mac’s ignored me all summer. What if he ignores me tonight too?

  DANIKA: All this coming from the girl who FORCED me to go to the party last year. Said she was going with or without me. Now, you’re scared to go alone? Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?

  SUNNY: I’m not sure I can handle being rejected by Mac in person. Over the phone is one thing, but real life ...

  DANIKA: I get it. I’m not sure I’d put myself in that situation either.

  SUNNY: You’re no help.

  DANIKA: You’re welcome. :)

  Ugh.

  Danika’s texts were less than helpful, but at least she’d made me feel a little better. Knowing that she wouldn’t put herself in the position to be dissed in front of other people helped me feel less crazy about the whole thing.

  My phone pinged again, and there was another message from Danika.

  DANIKA: I mean, what if you see him hooking up with some other girl? This is Mac we’re talking about.

  My stomach dropped as I read her words. Mac didn’t belong to me, and he wasn’t mine, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see his face attached to someone else’s all night long. Watching him with another girl might be the exact opposite of what I could handle. Even though the rumor mill was filled with stories of Mac’s numerous sexual conquests, I wasn’t sure I believed a word of it. I’d never seen him slip off with any girls or disappear into his room with one during a party. He was always in the middle of a crowd, openly making out with whatever girl had agreed to his rules for the night. One time, that had been me. But that was last year. And last year felt like it’d happened eons ago.

  SUNNY: Yeah. Not sure I’d be able to keep my food down.

  It was in that moment that I realized I was terrified to face him. I genuinely liked Mac, and I wanted him to like me back. But I didn’t want to put myself in an embarrassing situation or look like a fool in order to prove my feelings. I still had no idea what to do.

  Not Ready for This

  Mac

  When I landed in Orange County, I was still in no better mindset. If it was possible, I might have been in an even worse mood. I got into my ride-share, put my head back on the seat, and dropped a pair of sunglasses over my eyes, not wanting to make small talk with the driver. He got the hint, only asking me for our destination before getting on the crowded freeway.

  If you had asked me last season, I might have admitted—most likely in a drunken state—that there was a decent chance that I’d get picked up by a Major League team. There were forty rounds in the draft, and about thirty-two guys went in each round. So, yeah, the possibility of me being one of about twelve hundred seemed achievable. Even if it happened in the last round, that shit still counted. And I would have taken it, by the way, skipping all the way to whatever farm team they sent me to with a smile and never looking back.

  But it hadn’t worked out for me.

  And everyone knew it.

  I’d be facing that reality in about T-minus twenty minutes when I arrived at the baseball house. I thought that a tiny part of me never thought I’d make it here—to my senior year at Fullton State. At least, I’d always assumed it was small, but when the draft had come and gone and I wasn’t one of the names called, it was clear that I had believed in something for myself far more than I’d had any right to. It’d felt more like the entirety of my being had hoped and pulled for a dream that was getting further and further out of reach. And now, the countdown was on, the pressure intensified. It was this year or nothing. Get drafted or hang up my cleats for good and go work for Dickhead Davies.

  How the hell would I ever walk away from baseball and stay whole?

  My disappointment had grown into bitterness over the summer even though I had been kicking ass on my summer ball team. I found myself pissed off that my friends were getting paid to play baseball, but I had to go back to our fucking university and take a bunch of classes for a future I didn’t want. I hated the way that getting a degree was forced on our shoulders in order to do the one thing we loved. As if we didn’t have enough pressure and stress as it was, being a Division 1 athlete.

  The only saving grace was the fact that my courses came pretty easily for me. Where Chance had struggled last year to stay eligible, I never had to worry about that kind of thing. I passed my classes with ease. I just didn’t want to fucking take them anymore. I was so sick and tired of school ... of pretending to give a shit about classes like business economics when I had zero interest in it.

  I knew that I wasn’t the only guy on the team who hadn’t gotten drafted last year, so there were a few of us seniors in the same boat, all knowing that it was our last chance, praying we’d get the opportunity to make our dreams come true. But none of that made me feel any better. As much of a team sport as baseball was, it was still every man for himself. We didn’t get the chance to go pro as a team; we got the chance separately, as individuals, and we were ranked as such.

  As my ride pulled into the driveway of the baseball house, I wondered if everyone would see a giant neon sign that read FAILURE, flashing over my head when they looked at me. I wondered when I’d stop seeing it every time I saw my reflection in the mirror.

  With a groan, I carried my shit across the threshold and opened the front door to boisterous yells and whoops that hit my ears the second I stepped inside. My name was being shouted from somewhere in the kitchen, and I looked around until I saw Dayton Mawlry, our star pitcher; Colin Anderson, our shortstop; and Matt Sanders, our new left fielder, who I’d heard all about over the summer, doing shots before starting to pour more.

  I’d lived with Dayton and Colin last year, but Matt was a new addition to the house.

  Shaking my head, I knew that a baseball party was imminent.

  “We’re pregaming!” Dayton yelled.

  “I can see that,” I said, hoping I sounded as genuinely uninterested as I felt. I was still in a shit mood, and partying sounded fucking awful.

  “Party tonight,” Colin said as he walked toward me, a brown-colored shot in his hand. “Gotta welcome the new guys! And break Matt in,” he added with a laugh as he handed me the shot glass.

  “Some things never change,” I practically groaned but took the shot anyway. It burned as it passed down my throat and into my stomach. “What the hell was that?”

  “Tequila!” the three of them shouted in unison.

  Tequila was always a bad idea, especially if it was cheap.

  I frowned, and Colin’s expression shifted.

  “What’s up?” he asked. “You don’t seem excited.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You,
Mac Davies, king of all women on this campus, are not happy about a party at our house for our senior fucking year?” Colin reached out, touching the back of his hand to my forehead. “You okay, man? Got a fever?”

  I slapped his hand away, wanting it off me. “I’m just tired,” I lied.

  “Well, get untired, bro. Females will be here in an hour,” Dayton shouted with a grin, seemingly pleased with himself. Or drunk already. Most likely, it was the latter.

  I watched as Matt braced himself on the counter. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you. But I need to slow down, or I’ll be passed the fuck out in an hour.”

  That made me laugh even though I wasn’t in the mood. “Nice to meet you too. Don’t pass out. You’ll regret it. Our parties are legendary,” I said, deciding that maybe getting lost in some attention from the female variety was just what I needed to forget about how shitty my life was.

  Sunny’s image flashed in my mind before I forced it away with a shake of my head. She wouldn’t show up alone tonight, would she? Chance had told me that Sunny was living by herself this year. And Danika had actually asked me to keep an eye out for her before telling me something about how she had an intense fear of being alone, but I never agreed to do it. At least, I didn’t think I’d agreed to do it.

  I wasn’t sure I could even face Sunny, let alone watch out for the girl without wanting to spill all of my darkness into her light. She brought me comfort in a way that no one ever had before. Not even my own mother could get me to open up and tell her things the way I had with Sunny that night.

  And I’d been such an asshole to her after. She should have hated me, but Chance had told me that she asked about me over the summer, so I knew that she didn’t. I owed her a thousand apologies, but I wasn’t sure I could give her even one of them.