A Game Like Ours: Suncastle College Book One Read online

  “Wish it wasn’t such a big announcement.” Their voice is hopeful. I dare to dream with them. For even just a second. A world where it won’t matter anymore. A world that learns it never should’ve mattered at all.

  “I’m just me. I’ve always just been me. You don’t pick who you love or how you feel. You just do. But I’m preachin’ to the choir. I know, I know.” I cup their chin in my hand, their beard against my palm. “Will you come out?”

  They close their eyes, masking the pain behind them. “I don’t know that I ever can.” Their throat bobs with a harsh swallow. “Just to you, at least for now.” They lay beside me, letting out a deep sigh. We stare at the ceiling, broken. “Thank you for accepting me.” They run their hand across my cheek.

  “Of course.” My lips form a line. There’s a heaviness that rests in my chest while I think about all they’ve been through. If I came out, I’d risk drama with my baseball career. My parents would be okay. My friends would adjust. But Sam? They’d lose so much.

  “I think about it sometimes. Maybe if I announced it would do some good.” I feel so jumbled inside. “Maybe it would help the others. There’s this guy on the team. Somehow we got to talkin’ one day.” I smile thinking about Briar. “He came over one night and told me he’s gay. Tellin’ me he knew he could trust me somehow. But he won’t tell anyone else on the team.”

  “And how could he?” Sam rolls toward the nightstand, handing me the sugar-free Powerade. “Maybe if you both came out at the same time. But then what?”

  “Then what?” I take a drink, then slip off the bed and into my jeans. “Yeah that’s not gonna happen. It’d risk the draft.” I grind my teeth. “The world is more accepting today than it was. But it’s not where it needs to be. Not yet. Conversion therapy is still legal, for fuck’s sake.” I feel sick thinking about it. Thinking about people, like some of my extended relatives, that would make a huge deal if they knew I’m bi. Most of the team I play on now would be fine. Most being the operative word. There are some that wouldn’t treat me the same if they knew. Briar only came out to me.

  “Maybe one day it’ll be safe for you.” Sam goes to their suitcase for some casual clothes. They toss me their shirt and I put it on, tossing them mine. It’s a cute little thing we do every time. Exchange shirts.

  I like smelling like them when I drive home. “Maybe one day. I hope it’s headin’ in that direction.”

  “I hope so, too.” They come close to me and I feel a shift in the energy of the room. They have something important to say. “As nice as this weekend has been, I have something to tell you.”

  I brace myself, my stomach doing somersaults as I await whatever news is coming.

  “This is the last time I’ll be able to see you, at least for a while.” Sam’s eyes are sad. This was always a possibility. Nothing owed. Nothing expected. “I’m worried about telling you because I know you’re already going through a lot.” They eye my stomach and I tense. Wish they didn’t notice. Wish there wasn’t anything to notice.

  “It’s alright.” I force my mouth into a line. “Casual can only last so long, right?”

  “I am taking a new job back in Sydney. If you find yourself there, look me up.” They sigh.

  “Oh, Sam, that’s great.” I smile as big as I can, despite how hard it is to hear.

  “Promise me you’ll take better care of yourself.” They lean in close to me. “You deserve better than starving over stress.” The words sink in deep. I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to be so hard on myself.

  I grip them tight, holding them close. “We’ve had a lot of good times.”

  “Some of the best.” Sam gives me a kiss filled with all the passion we’ve shared over the years.

  I head out the door, wondering if I’ll ever see them again.

  My baseball cap is pulled down tight, and I slip my sunglasses on before the elevator doors open, tucking my chin, head down while I exit the lobby. There’s an ache in my chest that spreads the longer I walk. Sydney fucking Australia. Across the world from me. Clenching my fists, I steel myself against this change. I’ll get over it. I have to.

  But as I drive all those miles to my apartment, it hits me why this is so hard.

  It’s another goodbye I wasn’t ready for.

  Do we all just slip away?

  2

  LEXIE

  The sign reads Welcome to Suncastle South Carolina. Red and white lights flash in my mind. The ambulance—a trigger from my broken past. My foot presses harder on the pedal, hoping that if I drive faster I can get away from this torment. Pressure in my chest makes it hard to inhale, so I turn the radio louder to escape.

  Am I really coming back here?

  Driving toward the beach house, I notice this town looks the same as it did when I left it. The exit off the freeway, leading to town, passes in my car window like a glimpse of the past calling me. The little shops and bars. The best pizza place, The Splat. The bookstores advertising half-priced textbooks. The McDonalds and an Olive Garden in the parking lot beside a strip mall with Kohl’s and Ross. The billiards bar and rows of run-down sorority houses. Feeling more and more like a college town the longer I drive.

  Nothing’s changed, except that Cody’s not here.

  Our house comes into view and my eyes burn.

  As the radio switches to a commercial break, I put the car in park. I’ve already been idling for ten minutes in the driveway, dreading going in.

  “You have to finish school, Lexie. You’ve already done three years in the program.” Mom made it clear she was only paying for school if I continued at Suncastle College. So I have to finish, no matter how hard that is.

  “Cody would want you to keep livin’ your life,” My sister, Charlene, told me. I wrap my arms around my body pretending it’s her hug. Yeah, easy for them to say. They aren’t the ones who lost their whole world in a split second.

  I shoulda run off forever. Instead of walking, I feel I’m floating–like I’m not really here. The eight-hour drive was just the same: drifting, like clouds shifting over the Atlantic. I’m in some alternate reality. Lost in another time.

  Turning my house key, I walk through the front door. Shimmers of dust dance in the sunlight, coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. A thin film coats everything. The sofa, lamps, tables, and even my easel in the corner.

  The longer I stand here staring at a space that used to be ours, I know I shouldn’t be here. My throat swells so much it isn’t a throat anymore, it’s a blob of muscle and tissue that has no passageway for air. Not that my chest would allow that anyway.

  “Take the time you need. Feel what you need to feel,” my therapist’s voice reminds me. I shake out my hands, doing little jumps on the porch, forcing myself farther inside.

  This house.

  Our house.

  The house where Cody and I lived. The house where we had our last fight. The house where I heard about the car wreck.

  Those flashing lights….

  My phone buzzes. It’s Charlene.

  Charlene: Make it back ok?

  Me: If you count suffocating where I stand as “ok,” then, yes.

  It isn’t good for me to be confined within these walls. When I tried to explain that to Mom, my words fell on deaf ears. She says Dad told her it’s too much of an investment to lose. It doesn’t make sense for me to pay rent somewhere else when there’s a perfectly good house to live in.

  Maybe if I was his biological daughter he would’ve done that for me. The thought stings. Some part of him must love me or I would’ve been left to fend for myself a long time ago.

  I hold a dusty breath, trying to stop worrying about things that will never change, like Dad. Be thankful. I have the life others dream about. So much good.

  Until I lost Cody...

  A wave of grief crashes over me, because now that I’m standing in our home, I see Cody everywhere. Our engagement photos, printed on canvas, all over the walls. His framed baseball jerseys in
the front office, behind the desk. The gray paint he picked for our walls. His shadows surround me until there is nothing but darkness left.

  I shouldn’t be here.

  My backpack thuds on the white and black checkered tile. I kick my shoes off, plopping on the white sofa in our front room. Papers are scattered on the coffee table, because when I left, I didn’t have enough brain power to think about going through them.

  This wasn’t a good idea. I swallow saliva that feels like lava, drowning in heartache.

  He’s gone and I’m here.

  I’ll never accept that.

  My phone buzzes, the distraction a frail tether between me and the real world.

  Mickey: You here yet, sugar?

  I hear his southern drawl through the text.

  Me: Yep. Here.

  Mickey: Be right over. Bobby’s comin too.

  Me: Oh, ok.

  Bobby? I rub my temples. Seeing him is the last thing I want right now. I thought it would just be Mickey, but that’s fine. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

  Focus on the good.

  Bobby’s been my friend since junior high. Seeing him will help me feel at home here. This is fine.

  Then why are my hands shaking?

  Distraction. Now. That is what I need. Keep moving. Shifting. Thinking about what matters in this moment, instead of all the moments of the past.

  Fresh sheets. That matters.

  I go upstairs, gripping the railing for dear life, knowing that being here is stirring up all sorts of things I wish I didn’t feel.

  I see Cody’s smile.

  “Babe, you forgot this!” I throw his hoodie down the stairs. “It’s gonna be chilly!”

  He stands on the third step and I rush down to kiss him. His lips on mine, his arms around me. “Love you.” He taps my nose with his.

  I try to feel him close, but I can’t. Not that I deserve him close.

  The bed is a heap of our unmade sheets. I freeze, tears stinging my eyes that I blink away. Keep busy, keep busy. Stripping them, I remember the first time we made love here.

  And then I remember the last time I tried to.

  The air thickens around me. Keep going, keep moving. Don’t think about that. Think about anything besides that. Please, God, Jesus, and the Universe, help me forget. My eyes burn as I send a prayer into heaven, making sure I cover all my bases with whomever or whatever is out there.

  Flicking the ceiling fan on and cracking open the windows, sea air finds its way in and out of my lungs. I try to stream Pandora on my computer, but I have no internet connection. Of course. Something I meant to think of, but didn’t. Mental note...figure out internet.

  Going downstairs with the sheets, I remember that there is no laundry soap. I throw them on the railing and grab my keys. Someone’s knocking, their silhouettes coming through the window.

  Bobby and Mickey stand in front of me, Mickey pushing open the unlocked door.

  Fuck.

  I knew I wasn’t ready. Not ready to see them. Not ready to be home. Not ready to live another goddamn moment without Cody.

  Startled, I step back. “Oh, hey.”

  They’re wearing button ups and jeans and baseball caps. Mickey’s is a grey and purple Suncastle Knights cap and Bobby’s is a Yankees classic: navy with white embroidery. Their cologne is so strong that I smell it from here. They look nice. Too nice. My heart rate increases, knowing Mickey well enough to gather that he has something big planned.

  My attention falls on Bobby. Time has been good to him. He is tall and chiseled with those broad shoulders, good for playing third base. His dark brown hair is short, whiskers a day or two past the last shave framing his defined jaw.

  Mickey is a little shorter than Bobby, much tanner and with shaggy brown hair that curls haphazardly. Good looking guy, too. Mickey topples me backward in the biggest hug that only a best friend is capable of bestowing. “Darlin, it has been too fuckin’ long.” He holds me for a minute, then looks around the beach house like I’m a realtor and he is interested in buying. Running his finger over the dust on the entry table, it turns his print gray. “What’s all this?”

  “Like no one has been here in a year or somethin’.” I roll my eyes. “You know what it is.”

  Mickey flicks the dust off his finger. “You stayin’ here tonight?”

  “Yep.” I rock from my heels to my toes.

  “Then I’m cleanin’ it up for you. Your mama should’ve called. I woulda helped already.”

  “It’s fine. I was just goin’ to get some laundry soap.” I swallow. Mickey has always been too good to me. Even when we were kids.

  “Bobby’ll take you while I start cleanin’ up.” Mickey shrugs his shoulders. “Right, Bobby?”

  “It’s really okay. I have plenty of time to clean on my own.” I hold my purse close to my chest. Mental note: find a way to keep Mickey from ruling my life.

  Mickey gives me a serious look, reserved for when he’s not getting his way. “Doll baby, I’m cleanin’ this place up, and that’s the last I’m gonna hear about it.” He points out the door. “Get goin’, now. Bobby, take her out to the truck.”

  I roll my eyes. Mickey has a knight in shining armor complex, I swear. Always bossing his friends around under the rouse of taking care of us.

  Bobby stands in front of the door, leaning casually, hands in his dark wash jean pockets. “Hey, Lex.”

  “Hey, Bobby.”

  We stand there for a long while as I notice the kind smile on his face.

  “Shall we?” He opens my front door, waiting until I go first. Walking to his blue souped up truck–with giant tires and a really nice sound system, Bobby opens up the door for me.

  “Thanks.” I step in and close the door.

  He shrugs and climbs into the driver’s seat. As he pulls out of the driveway, I can’t stop looking at him. His blue and white checkered button up hugs his muscled form in all the right places. In high school, everyone and their pet fish had a crush on him. All the girls and some of the guys. Willardson High’s most eligible. Only he looks better now. I can’t imagine how many are fighting over him today.

  “How you been?” He breaks the silence, his deep and silky voice mixing with the sound of Brad Paisley’s “Old Alabama” playing on the radio. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel at the red light, he exudes a sort of comfort all the time. Cool and casual, no pressure when you’re with him. No pressure at all.

  Despite all his good looks, he hasn’t gone out much with anyone. He slept around, sure. But nothing serious. Mickey told me a week ago that Bobby isn’t in a relationship. Don’t know that he has ever been in one. I’m kinda surprised he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Or boyfriend, maybe? I bet if he is gay he won’t come out because of baseball. Cody said some things that made me think that, but I’ve never asked Bobby.

  “Good, good.” I say the same line to him that I tell everyone else, because, well, it's easier to hide behind the walls of what I wish were there than to face the reality of what is. “How you been?”

  “Great.” His lips turn up in a smile, but I see something underneath, a layer of all that I feel. For as long as I can remember, Bobby was Cody’s best friend. It’s hard to see that he lost someone, too.

  A while ago, he sent me several texts. They weren’t drunk texts either. They were genuine, how you doin’ with everythin’, kind of texts. I never replied. Should I tell him why? No. Not right now. One step at a time. I’m here. Back in Suncastle. I can’t do it all in one day. Everything inside me burned the night Cody died and I feel like I’m carrying all the lumber I can, trying to build over this heartache, one plank at a time.

  “Glad to hear it.” I swallow the lump in my throat. I’ll play along with this delusion—for now.

  “Quickie’s alright?” He offers the small grocery store across town.

  “Yep, sounds great.” My breath comes out in a hot, shaky moan. Bobby looks over, those blue eyes dancing beneath long eyelashes. His gaze shifts a
bruptly.

  He’s tense.

  Cody’s death changed me a hell of a freaking ton. It changed him, too, but what’s with this happy-go-lucky Bobby is tense vibe? Not sure what to make of it, we continue without another word all the way across town.

  He parks and I open my door before he has a chance to get it for me. I know he’s a gentleman. Born and bred by a Better Homes and Gardens-loving mama, like I was. But I’m not about to wait for him to help me out of the car when he’s doing me a favor. This is already awkward enough.

  Bobby grabs a handbasket and waits for me as I pull a cart from the corral. “You went out to help your sister, right?”

  “Yeah, up in Tennessee.” I wheel forward, starting down the cleaning aisle.

  “How was it?”

  I add a jug of detergent and fabric softener. “It was good to see her. My niece is so adorable.” I pull out my phone and show him a picture of Paisley at her second birthday party.

  Bobby tilts the phone closer and smiles. “Aw, ain’t she a little cutie. Looks just like your sister.”

  As soon as he releases, I shove my phone in my pocket, blushing that I’m showing it to him. I’m not usually this random. Why am I feeling nervous? I load in other necessities and follow Bobby to the produce section. He puts a bag of spinach in his basket while I add an assortment of fruit into my cart. I stock up on all the staples: milk, bread, eggs, tortillas and a bunch of frozen stuff I can reheat on busy days. We get to the candy aisle and he puts a big bag of Peanut M&Ms in his basket. Peanut M&Ms were Cody’s favorite.

  “You don’t buy what I thought you would,” I say before I think better of it. Shit. I close my eyes for a long time, gripping the shopping cart until my knuckles burn. “Sorry, I shouldn’t bring him up or poke at you for somethin’ that mattered to him. I’m sorry.”

  Bobby’s hand comes on mine and I gasp, the connection so intimate a warm shiver works through my spine. It’s unexpected and somehow needed.

  “You’re okay.” His smile is genuine when I venture a look. “It’s okay.”