Page 153 of The Fall Classic

Ball. Another ball.

It’s fine, I tell myself. But all I can hear is Georgie’s voice from the other night when I asked if everything was okay and she said “it’s fine” too fast, the same way I’d say it to Jake.

I wind up and release.

I can feel in my bones it’s gonna be a strike⁠—

Nope. He knocks it out of the park.

Great.

I feel sick with worry and dread, my mind stuck between past, present, and my pitiful-looking future. Lucas, Georgie, my career⁠—

I can’t do this.

Then there’s a flash of lightning and the crash of thunder before the heavens open up and the rain comes down.

The umps wave their arms, calling a delay, and the grounds crew starts running enormous tarps over the field. Soon, we’re all being called back into the locker room.

Awesome. Now the dread’s going to stretch out.

Normally I would read, but I grab my phone to see if I can fully numb myself with some mindless game.

I have a text from Georgie from an hour ago—as safe a time as any to text me, considering we can’t access our phones until after the game.

Or until there’s a rain delay and we have nothing to do for the next, what does the forecast say? Four hours?

Georgie

Can you call me after the game? It’s been a week.

<3

Normally that sideways heart does a lot for me.

Now it does about as much as a pillow blocking an arrow.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Georgie

Logan’s game is on in the background at Meant to Bean—thank you, Alma—and I am a ball of nerves as I sit at my booth, my legs jumping beneath the table and my laptop on top. Jane won’t arrive for another hour, but I’m ready. Of course, I need to have a conversation with my dad and Marlowe, too, but I’m not ready for that one. I want to hear from Jane first. Figure out what she thinks my prospects are. Maybe I’ll even run the trust situation by her and get her perspective, although it feels wrong to talk with her before I talk with Logan …

Oh, Logan.

I’ve held back from him this week, and watching his brother on the mound as the game starts pricks me with guilt.

I grab my phone and shoot off a text, knowing he won’t get it until after the game.

Georgie

Can you call me after the game? It’s been a week.

<3

There. I promised to tell him what’s going on days ago, but after finding that trust document, I haven’t been able to think straight, let alone talk it out.

I’m not sure I can think straight yet, but I’m ready to talk to Logan about it. No, I need to talk to him about it. After years of processing everything alone at my own pace—or avoiding it—I haven’t made enough progress without him. If anything, it feels like I’ve simply put up a wall around my heart so I don’t have to process anything to anyone.