Never Getting Back Together

NINETEEN

The score is tied. The bases are loaded. There's one out, and I'm sitting in the dugout, bored to death. I had absolutely no intention of ever playing kickball—or any other sport, for that matter. I might be able to measure a precise teaspoon of cinnamon using only my eyes and the palm of my hand, but that's the extent of my coordination.

When the players were getting ready to take the field, the blue team came up a player short. Kallie Peters was supposed to play second base but said she was too sunburned to participate. She claimed she spent the day out waterskiing at the lake. But since Kallie's only marginally more athletically inclined than I am, it's more likely she stayed in the tanning bed at her mom's salon too long.

After Kallie bailed, the blue team was left scrambling to find another player. Ty started hinting that anyone who really cared about the town and the success of the festival would step up. He may not have been looking at me when he said it, but I knew his words were aimed at me. I wasn't about to let him think he cares more about Rosedale than I do. So I crumbled like a cookie made with coconut flour and volunteered. That's the closest we've come to speaking to each other all night. He never responded to my text, and I don't know where that leaves us.

He's on the red team, naturally. And I can't keep myself from glancing over to where he's playing first base. I feel so guilty about kicking him out of my class. I can't stop thinking about whether or not he's mad at me.

Admittedly, my distraction may also have something to do with the fact that Ty looks exceptionally good tonight. He's wearing those old, faded blue jeans really well. I thought I caught him staring at me earlier, too. But he looked away before I could be sure. It was probably just me projecting my own fixation. I peek over at him again, but he's laser-focused on Chance, who's up to kick.

Get it together, Quinn. I toe at a loose bit of gravel in front of the bench and watch insects swarm in the giant field lights. Life will be so much easier when Ty goes back to California, but Liv's right about us needing to talk. I want to resolve everything that happened between us before he disappears again. If he'll even speak to me, that is.

Kelvin's pitching, and he lobs the ball toward Chance, who boots it full-force. It flies into the air. Applause erupts from the bleachers but dies off quickly as the ball curves toward the crowd in a foul.

Ty's dad, Marco, easily catches it. He throws it to Gary, who's standing behind home plate with an umpire's mask strapped to his face that makes his hair stick up at the back. Lisa, Francie, and Gianna are sitting next to Marco, but Lucia is MIA. This is the fourth town event she's missed this week. It isn't like her. If Marco's here, the restaurant can't be struggling. I hope the two of them aren't getting divorced or something. Marco and Lucia have always been my idea of happily ever after. You can practically feel the love radiating between them when they're together. It would break my heart if they split up.

There's a groan from the crowd, and I turn my attention back to the game. Chance must have gotten a strike because he kicks the dirt in frustration, sending a cloud of dust swirling into the air.

"Hey there, Slugger." Jenny Jenkins hurries over, plopping down beside me. "You're up next. You ready?"

I glance down the bench at the other players, hoping someone will volunteer to take my place. Al's on my other side, playing Candy Crush on his phone. Amala Reddy's next to him, but she seems to be intentionally avoiding making eye contact with me. That probably has more to do with the rain gutter regatta than her not wanting to play kickball, though. Giselle's also standing in the dugout, but she's busy yelling at one of the kids who's supposed to be passing out her corndogs and keeps eating them instead.

I suppress a sigh and try to force a smile for Jenny. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Good girl." Jenny pats my shoulder, then she reaches for the cardigan around her waist. "Do you want to borrow this? I'd hate for you to catch a cold or something."