Page 123 of The Score We Never Settled

LAYLA JEAN: Find out and see.

BRIGGS: You gonna block me again?

LAYLA JEAN: Maybe.

BRIGGS: Go ahead and find out what’ll happen next if you do. I’m not above flying out and missing training to fuck you back into your right mind. It’s only an hour flight when I’m in Memphis.

LAYLA JEAN: But you’ll be in Los Angeles in two days. Sucks to suck.

BRIGGS: My batting average and making you come several times says different.

LAYLA JEAN: Cocky.

BRIGGS: And it only wants to be in you, Layla Jean. Remember that.

LAYLA JEAN: Focus, lover boy. You need to shower and get some sleep.

BRIGGS: Only if you sleep with me.

LAYLA JEAN: No can do. Last time we did that, you just wanted to have phone sex and I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.

BRIGGS: One time and then we sleep.

LAYLA JEAN: Shower. Bed. In that order.

BRIGGS: Don’t you want to hear my voice?

LAYLA JEAN: No.

Fuckin’ brat.

I’m still going to call her anyways.

34

BRIGGS

Two weeks later…

“He hits you,and I swear to God, Kerrigan, you walk off that plate, I’m going to work you so hard you’re going to be sore for the rest of your life.”

Rival game.

Gotta love them.

Somehow, the Charleston River Otters have been holding on, and to say Coach Davidson is anxious is an understatement.

I can’t afford not to play until this all ends.

No matter what happens.

If I get suspended again, he’ll have my ass, but my team will step up when needed, and I don’t have to ask.

They’ll just do it.

I nod, acknowledging what he said, but when I step out of the dugout to get into the batter’s circle, he clutches onto my forearm.

Hard.