10
Taylor
Heat and humidity greet me the next morning as I leave my parent’s house for the baseball diamond. I think they were so relieved to see me leaving the house that they didn’t even ask weird questions about why I was going to a Little League baseball game dressed in real clothes and not yoga pants and a T-shirt.
Truth, I dressed up today. Sort of. Donning a red and white sundress with thin straps that tie on the tops of my shoulders and flip-flops, it’s the most dressed I’ve ever been for one of Marco’s baseball games but I know it’s because I’m going to see Carter.
I still can’t believe I unloaded so much on him last night. Confiding in him about Daddy’s failing business, his gambling addiction, and my own feelings surrounding everything was very out of character for me. Still, it was refreshing to have someone to talk to. More than that, Carter seemed to relate to my situation and offered a higher level of understanding and compassion than most of my peers. At least the ones that run in my social circles.
I can’t explain it, especially since we met so strangely, but I find Carter easy to be around. With him, there’s no hidden meanings or ulterior motives, we just talk. And I like it.
Climbing into my SUV, I drive to the park and walk over to the baseball diamond. My stomach drops and my heart rate increases as soon as I spot Carter sitting on the bottom bleacher, speaking to Marco in the dugout. It’s crazy really, how excited I am to see him, but there it is. My hands grow clammy, giddiness fills my chest, and I feel the same way I did when I had a crush in middle school.
Rolling my eyes at myself, I walk over to the bleachers and sit down next to Carter.
He looks over at my arrival and the lines around his eyes crinkle, even though his eyes are hidden by sunglasses. “Hey Taylor.”
“Hi.” I cross my legs at the ankles and stare at him.
Time seems to shrink as we stare at each other until Marco calls out and I jump in my seat. Turning to wave, he sticks his tongue out at me and Carter and I laugh.
Within moments, Marco is swept up in the chatter of his team and it’s just Carter and me, the rest of the world seeming to fade into the background once more.
Two hours later, Marco’s team is cheering wildly and slapping each other on the backs. They beat their biggest rivals by two runs and everyone is in the mood to celebrate. Ria showed up during the seventh inning and while she raised her eyebrows when she saw Carter and me sitting together, she didn’t comment outright.
Once Marco is finished saying goodbye to all of his friends, Carter asks us all if we want to grab an ice cream. Marco jumps up and down excitedly, Ria nods stiffly, and I agree easily. Turning in the direction of Sally’s Sweet Shoppe, Ria and Marco walk a few paces ahead of Carter and me.
“How are you feeling today?” He asks, his voice sincere.
“Okay.” I admit.
“Your leg?”
“It’s growing stronger. Patrick, my physical therapist, sees a lot of improving. Thanks for asking.”
He nods.
A beat of silence passes between us but it’s comfortable, natural.
“I had fun last night.” Carter says, looking over at me, his mouth twisted into a smirk.
“Me too. A lot of fun.”
“We should do it again sometime.”
“I’d like that.” A lightness settles in my chest, excitement coursing through me just knowing I’m going to see Carter again.
“We didn’t stay out too late last night, did we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Were your parents okay with it? I couldn’t believe the time when I got home.”
“Oh.” I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “No, it was fine. I’ve been living on my own since I was twenty-two. I’m just staying with my parents during my recovery so they’re super laid back about my coming and going.”
His jaw tightens at the mention of my recovery and he nods, the movement crisp. “That’s good.” He mutters.
I touch his hand shyly and his neck snaps up, staring at me. “I really am healing.”
His jawline softens, his mouth going slack at the admission and he nods again, squeezing my fingertips. “I know. I just wish you didn’t have to.”
I shrug. “Talking to you, jeez, just getting out of my parent’s house has been good for me. It’s helping. So, thank you.”
He’s quiet, his hand dropping my fingertips after one final squeeze. “Come on, let’s catch up to Ria and Marco. I owe you an ice cream.”
Within minutes we enter Sally’s Sweet Shoppe and Marco’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. “I’d like vanilla and chocolate and whipped cream and hot fudge and a cherry and sprinkles and –”
“Sounds like a banana split, little man.” Carter chuckles.
“Yes, one of those.” Marco says seriously.
“You got it. Taylor, Ria?” Carter turns to Ria and me politely and we both rattle off ice cream flavors.
When we sit outside in the bright sunshine eating our ice cream cones, I bite back my smile, mouthing “thank you” to Carter. But he smiles back anyway, another moment passing between us that infuses my heart with hope.