Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Look, I’m asking you politely.”
“Asking me what?” Her eyebrows rose suggestively.
I frowned, feeling my grip on politeness about to go the way of the pterodactyl, and spoke through gritted teeth. “Fine. I’m telling you politely. I have nothing to say.”
“Are you aware that some people are referring to the yips as Tyler Shaw Syndrome?”
“Please go away.”
“Look, we’re doing the story. Don’t you want your voice on the record?”
“Here’s something for your record—fuck off.” Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have said it, she was only trying to do her job, I get it . . . but she was like the eleventy-billionth reporter trying to get in my head, and it wasn’t a space I shared with strangers.
“That’s your comment?” she asked.
“That’s my comment.”
She sighed. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it.”
“That’s the way I want it.”
After she left, I pulled out my phone, thinking of texting Sadie that I’d changed my mind about lunch in a public place. Hadn’t I learned my lesson by now?
“Tyler?”
I looked up from my phone, ready for another fight, but it wasn’t another reporter. It was Virgil’s son David, the coach at the high school. He’d been an assistant back when I was playing, and he’d also taught social studies, if I remembered correctly.
“David. Hey.” Setting my phone on the table, I stood up and shook his hand.
“Good to see you, Tyler. I heard you were in town.”
“News travels fast. I just saw your dad this morning.”
David chuckled. “He was so glad to see you. Called me right away.”
“So you’re still at the high school?”
He nodded. “Dad said he tried to convince you to stop by.”
“He did, but—”
“You should. The kids would love it. You’re a legend at Central. And it would mean a lot to my dad.”
For some reason, I found myself considering it. “My schedule’s pretty tight. I’m only here until Sunday.”
“We’ve got practice tomorrow morning,” he said hopefully.
“Do you?” I rubbed a finger beneath my lower lip.
“Yes. Just think about it. I got this new kid, a senior, just moved here beginning of this year. He’s a lefty. Fantastic arm, lots of speed, great power. But—”
“No command?”
He shook his head. “Very little.”
“Sounds familiar.”
David laughed. “You had more than he does.”
“Well, I had to learn it. Your dad taught me that. Made me slow down and rededicate myself to the mechanics.” I was sort of warming to the idea of passing on the knowledge. “I might be able to come by.”
“That would be awesome. I’m not even gonna say anything to the guys, because they’ll fucking lose it, and we’ve got a game tonight.”
“Oh yeah? Where?”
“At home. You should come check it out. Chip, the lefty, is pitching.”
For a second, I thought about it. Maybe April would come with me. “Oh wait—I can’t. I’ve got my sister’s rehearsal dinner tonight. She’s getting married tomorrow. That’s why I’m in town.”
“Oh. Well . . .” He shrugged. “We’d love to see you at practice tomorrow if you can fit it in. Ten a.m.”
“Sounds good. But David.” I squared my shoulders and spoke firmly. “I don’t throw in public. Not even for practice.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to throw. You could just talk to them. Help Chip with his motion.”
Just then, my sister appeared at the table, her hair damp from the rain. “Hey.”
“Hey, Sadie. You remember David Dean, my old coach?”
She smiled at him. “I do, but he was Mr. Dean, geography teacher, to me. Nice to see you.”
“You too, Sadie,” he said. “Congratulations on your wedding.”
“Thanks.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m not going to stress about the rain. I’m not going to stress about the rain. I’m not going to stress about the rain.”
David grinned. “Nope, not at all. Well, I’ll let you two have lunch. Good seeing you both. Tyler, hope you can make it tomorrow.”
I nodded and sat down, and Sadie dropped into the chair across from me. “What’s he talking about?” she asked.
“Baseball practice. He and his dad—I ran into Coach Dean this morning at breakfast—are on me to stop by the team practice tomorrow morning.”
“What time?”
“Ten.”
She nodded. “That works. You should do it.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
She shrugged out of a light jacket. “God, this weather better break.”
“April thinks it will.”
Sadie looked up at me and tucked her wet hair behind her ears. “How did it go with her last night?”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah. It was fun.”
She stared at me. “No. Do not give me the man version of events—I want the details.”
I rolled my eyes, prepared to give her only a slightly longer man version, but I was saved by the server who came to take our order. Once we were alone again, though, Sadie persisted.
“Well?” she prompted, giving me a gentle kick in the shin for good measure.
“I met her at Cloverleigh’s bar. We had some food and drinks. We talked about old times. It was nice.”