Page 23 of Switch Hitter

Coach blows the whistle and we scatter back to our positions. I move to the outfield and try to shake off the way Kai’s question hit too close.

Is it the Mets guy?

Even saying it out loud makes it real, and that’s a big problem.

Because if it’s real, it has to exist outside of dugouts and hotel rooms and dark corners.

It has to exist out in the world where my family can see.

I see my mom’s face in my head like a flash. The way she smiles when she’s proud. The way she looks when she’s disappointed. My dad’s voice, quiet but heavy. The man who taught me to be tough. To be a good son. To be a good Catholic.

My sisters, three younger ones who adore me in that chaotic, feral way sisters do. My older brothers too, always watching, always assessing, always ready to protect me and also roast me.

If I tell them⁠—

I don’t even know what happens.

And that terrifies me more than anything Emiliano could ever do to me.

My phone buzzes again.

I don’t check it because I know it’s him.

He’s not going away and I don’t want him to.

Practice ends and the guys peel off toward the locker room like a herd breaking formation. I’m halfway to my car when my phone buzzes again.

Fuck me.

I stop walking and pull it out.

Emiliano

Come on, Cobre.

Okay, so you’re probably at practice right now… And I’m just going to say this. You fucking frustrate me, but I get it… trust me, I do. But you can’t be scared forever. Now I don’t know if it’s a faith thing or maybe a family thing, but whatever it is. We can talk about it.

Please.

My jaw clenches, and I type before I can think better of it.

Sean

Stop texting me. The next time I talk to you will be at the game.

I hit send, and I’m filled with instant regret. His reply comes so fast it’s like he was holding his phone waiting.

Emiliano

You’re fucking cute. How about no.

I stare at it, heat flooding my face.

Of course it’s no.

Emiliano doesn’t take orders. He doesn’t take hints. He doesn’t take silence.

He takes control, and he wants me to stop hiding behind my guilt like it’s holy.