There was virtually no pause between the door to the garage slamming closed and the heavy clunk of Ellie’s purse crashing onto the granite in the kitchen behind me. Like most days, I was on the couch, the TV serving as background noise while I played a game on my iPad. But as soon as her attitude infiltrated the house, I suddenly wanted to be anywhere else.

“Coby William Kyler.”

My full name. Things were never good when that happened—it didn’t matter who it came from. Dad had hardly ever used it. The only time I could vividly recall was when I was eight and had to cut pictures out of magazines for a class presentation depicting my family. We weren’t allowed to have help, and it wasn’t like my dad had kept many magazines around the house. I thought I’d hit pay dirt when I found a stash under his bed. Needless to say, between the Sports Illustrated and Playboy, I’d embarrassed not only my dad, but Ellie’s parents, as well.

It was a rather dysfunctional-looking family picture.

Other than that, Ellie’s mom was the only one who’d used my entire name, always in the middle of the night after Ellie would wake them up screaming. “Ellie Marie Teller, when will you learn to stop letting Coby pick the movie?” she’d lecture, followed by, “And you, Coby William Kyler! Telling her Chucky is about a doll is very misleading.”

It was no wonder where Ellie had learned to use my middle name in anger.

I immediately dropped the iPad and sat up straight, fear consuming me with every stomp of her shoes in my direction. “Whatever you think I did…I didn’t do it. And if I did, there’s a reasonable explanation for it.”

She made it to the end of the couch before stopping and crossing her arms. Her foot jutted out, her heel bouncing with the adrenaline coursing through her. It was a scary sight.

“I’m not going to lie, I fear for my life right now.” I held my hands up in the act of surrender, but she didn’t bite the bait. Which meant whatever had her worked up had happened recently, and considering I hadn’t seen her since last night, there was at least a small chance it wasn’t completely my fault. “Seriously, El, what’s going on? If you had the ability to shoot fire from your eyes, I’d be well done. Even a filet mignon such as myself isn’t worth anything if it’s charbroiled.”

Not even a hint of a smirk shadowed her lips. And the instant her nose wrinkled in disgust, I braced for the fiery side of Ellie Teller. The one that made her worthy of the red in her hair. Nature had tried to mask it with light-brown undertones and faint blond highlights gifted to her by the sun. But when she gave you the same look she pierced me with right now, you could’ve painted her hair black, and the red would’ve still shone through.

“Get off your lazy ass and go take a shower. You stink. And when you’re done, put on real clothes. Preferably clean ones.” Other than extending her hand behind her, pointing toward my room, she didn’t budge from her spot at the end of the couch.

“If you think I’m going anywhere near you while you embody Carrie, you can think again.”

“So help me, God, Coby. If you don’t move it, we’re going to have a come-to-Jesus moment with you sitting in your own filth. At least give me the courtesy of smelling like soap when we have this chat.”

Something had happened, but I still had no clue what, and the longer she dragged this out, the heavier the brick in my gut became. Yet a voice in my head told me if I didn’t do as she demanded, things would get a lot worse. So, without another word, I excused myself from the room and scurried to the shower.

“Much better,” she said when I returned. She was on the couch, exactly where I had been when she came home, yet the TV wasn’t on and my electronics were stacked together on the coffee table. Logic informed me it would be a bad idea to reach over her for them.

I ran my hand through my wet hair, making yet another mental note that it needed to be cut. I’d planned on getting that done a week or so ago, but I hadn’t found the time. And by “time,” what I really meant was motivation.

She moved the stack of papers from her lap to the coffee table and shifted on the cushion to face me when I sat beside her. The rim around the blue of her eyes seemed darker than normal, and her pupils were constricted—a clear sign of aggravation for anyone who knew Ellie the way I did. It was enough to keep quiet and wait for her to speak first.

“When I said you were fortunate enough to give it time before figuring out what to do with your future, I’d meant you were free to explore college, find something you enjoy, try out new things. Sitting around the house day in and day out wasn’t what I’d meant by taking your time.”

“I don’t sit around—”

“The only times you go anywhere are when Gage and I drag you out,” she interjected, her voice rising against the strain of her waning control. “You only put on clothes when he comes over—which isn’t much since he’s in the middle of a season—or when you have physical therapy. But even that’s down to twice a month. Before today, when was the last time you showered?”

I was desperate to turn away from her intense gaze, but I couldn’t. It was like a magnet, refusing to relent its hold on me. I’d seen Ellie in every shade of emotion, but this one was new. Almost as if she were disappointed in me. And I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

She was right—if I didn’t have to leave the house, I usually didn’t. And yes, most of the time, I wore the same clothes, rotating between three pairs of sweats and a couple of T-shirts, depending on laundry. However, I wasn’t so lost in my self-induced, post-baseball haze that I didn’t clean myself. I did have some standards left.

“I take one every night, El. I had one less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“So what...you wait until I go to bed before bathing?”

Simultaneously, I bobbed my head and lifted my shoulders—an awkward mixture of “yes” and “maybe.” I couldn’t very well tell her why I’d waited until she was in her room for the night before I took advantage of the shower. “That way I can ensure I’ll have enough hot water,” I lied.

At least she seemed to buy it. “Fine, but that doesn’t answer why you never leave the house. Staying cooped up inside all the time is not healthy. You’ve lived your whole life in the sun in one way or another. Being in here, stuck on the couch in front of the TV is a sure sign something is wrong. At least, it is to me. And I’m confident enough to say I know you better than anyone, so if I’m worried about you, then it has to mean something.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Says the guy who’s basically given up on life.”

I glanced over her shoulder and grew lost in my thoughts as I stared at nothing in particular. “You came home pissed off at me…why? And you can’t say it’s because you found me on the couch—you hollered my name before you even saw me sitting here.”

“Gage called me on my way home.”

I rolled my eyes and threw myself into the overstuffed cushion with an exaggerated groan. “When I suggested you two hang out, I didn’t mean for you guys to team up against me. I only meant for you to get along with him so I could hang out with both of you at the same time without things being weird.”

“He’s concerned, too. Like I am.”

“Oh my God, Ellie…there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Then why did you turn down the ESPN job?” Like an ace up her sleeve, she pulled it out when it mattered most, and it undoubtedly caught my full attention. “Yeah, I heard about that.”

“You mean Gage went running to you so you’d come home and convince me it was a stupid decision, and then try to talk me into calling them back and say I’ve changed my mind. Well, don’t waste your breath, Ellie. I’m not reconsidering.”

“That’s not why he called me. It’s not about ESPN—or any other sports program.”

“Then what’s it about?” There hadn’t been a single time in our entire friendship we’d spoken this way to one another. This was unlike any fight we’d ever had. I loved Ellie, and I had no doubt she loved me, but the weight of emotions in this one argument was enough to sink a ship. It seemed deeper than what most would consider normal for two people in a platonic relationship. Almost as though our lives were more than just tied together. Like they were woven, entwined, threaded together so tightly they couldn’t be separated without complete destruction of the very fabric of our beings. She spoke as if her future rested in mine, and mine hers.

It was more than I knew how to handle.

“We want you to be happy, and closing yourself off from the outside world doesn’t paint you as a happy person, Coby. You’re not even content. It’s okay to admit that you’re not sure what to do with your life or where to go from here. No one will think less of you for that. In fact, I think you’d be surprised at the amount of support you’d have.”

“Okay…well, being a commentator won’t make me happy. Sitting behind a desk and reading off stats or giving a play-by-play of a game will only remind me of what I’m missing. That’s why I turned it down. I didn’t make that decision out of fear of leaving my house or because I’m depressed. I did it because taking the job would make me depressed.”

She placed her hand over mine, calling my attention to the harshness of my tone. “I get it. Trust me, I do. Like I said, I’m not trying to convince you to change your mind about ESPN. Gage didn’t call me to talk you into it.”

“I appreciate your concern, but it’s unwarranted.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve convinced yourself that you’re fine doing nothing, but you can’t lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. Something changed when I started my job. You’re lonely, which makes sense. But don’t die in that isolation, Coby. Live in the light with the rest of us. Rather than sit around here while I’m at school, find something you’re passionate about.”

“Baseball.” I held her stare, hoping she could see my truth. “I love baseball. Always have. And I was good at it, too. School came naturally to you—you didn’t have to try at it, yet you succeeded without an ounce of effort. It was harder for me. Blame it on being behind because of my eyesight or the stresses of a young child without a mom, but it was so damn hard. Where you would get an A on a test without even touching a textbook, I had to study ten times harder than anyone else in class in the hopes of pulling out a B. But when I had a ball in my hand…” I shook my head and blew a seamless breath past my barely parted lips as I recalled the feeling of the red stitching beneath the pad of my thumb. “It was like an extension of me. Like the sport had been invented just for me.”

“And it’s hard to lose that,” she surmised, her words dripping with sympathy.

“In a way, yes.”

“So if you love it so much, why not find something to do with it?”

I closed my eyes and pondered over my next words for a moment. Then I blinked and focused on Ellie—the soft skin on her cheeks that warmed my hand when I held her face, her pouty lips that could convince me to give her the world, those vibrant eyes that saw me as more than a ballplayer. I had no reason to hold anything back when it came to her. If there was only one person on this planet who truly got me, it was Ellie.

“I don’t miss the League. I mean…I miss my brothers, the team, my coaches. I miss the structure and support. But the League? The traveling, the doubleheaders, the rigorous training and packed stadiums?” I shook my head. “I don’t miss any of it.”

She hesitated for a moment before asking, “But you miss playing?”

“I miss baseball. The sport my dad taught me. Before it was about contracts and agents and millions of dollars I’ll never be able to spend. That’s why, Ellie. That’s the reason I couldn’t take the job. It had nothing to do with being depressed or not wanting to leave the house.”

“Are you saying you’re not in a funk?”

“Who knows—maybe I am. Maybe I don’t go anywhere because you’re at work, and if I can’t do things with you, then I have no desire to do them at all. I can’t tell you why. All I can say is a piece of me is missing. It’s been missing for a long time…ever since I signed with the Titans. And after I was cut from the roster, another piece was gone. That time, it was the feeling of being part of something great. Not a team, but my team. And now that you’re gone five days a week, leaving before I get up and not coming home until dinnertime, it’s like I lost another part of me. Before too long, there won’t be anything left.”

A single tear slipped past the corner of her eye, but before it could trail down her porcelain cheek, she flicked it away. And as though I hadn’t seen it, she curled her lips in a show-stopping smile, attempting to shield me from her pain.

“You haven’t lost me, Coby. I’ll always be here for you. No matter what jobs we have or where we live. We’ll forever be a part of each other’s lives.” With a soft giggle, she added, “Our kids will be best friends. We’ll sit in our rocking chairs on my front porch and watch as they place pennies on the railroad tracks. Our perfect future, just like we’ve always talked about.”

When her hand fell to my thigh, it was like a bomb had exploded within my chest. Emotions I wasn’t prepared for sliced me open with shards of repressed reality: one day, Ellie wouldn’t come home to me after work. She’d have her own house with her own family. There’d be a new best friend in her world, one she’d share everything with, lean on and support through the good times and bad. I had no doubt she’d meant it when she said she’d always be there for me. She would. Just like I’d do the same for her without any hesitation. Although, it wouldn’t be the same.

She’d told me the turning point in my life had been during the semifinals our senior year of high school. But it became obvious to me, sitting here with the heat of her palm soaking through my jeans, that this, right now, was our turning point. Heading off to college—me to the pros—wasn’t the “real world” we had thought it would be. It may have seemed like it at the time, and had anyone asked me fifteen minutes ago, I would’ve still said it was true. But now I thought differently. Ellie had a career, a permanent job. I didn’t, although I really needed to get my life together and find one.

But that didn’t change anything.

The world kept spinning. Nights turned into mornings, which drifted into afternoons, and then back to night again. The sun continued to rise and set. Time moved forward and the days on the calendar kept falling away. With each breath, we were moving apart from one another—maybe not physically, maybe not with enough momentum for either of us to take notice, but it was happening. And the harsh reality of it was…it wouldn’t stop. No matter what we did. No matter how desperately we held onto the pendulum, it would keep swinging.

If I couldn’t figure out how to live in the light with her away at work, I wasn’t sure how I’d cope without her here at all. And that thought was enough to tell me I needed to figure something out before I’d wake up one morning and find that life had slipped through my fingers.

“E.T., are you trying to tell me you want to move back to DeArmanville? Because that detailed depiction of our future doesn’t sound much like Tuscaloosa. It reeks of Podunk, USA.”

Her lips split into a wide grin, and for the first time since she came home, it was genuine. The sparkle in her eyes had returned, as well as the color in her cheeks, bringing with it the faint spatter of freckles across her perfect nose.

“I don’t care where we live. All that matters to me is that you’re there. Of course, it’d be nice if our houses were next to each other’s; it’d make things much easier. So, when you’re ready to sell this gem, just keep that in mind. Oh!” She held up one finger with her sudden afterthought. “It’d be lovely if you could remember I’m on a teacher’s salary. Our home budgets won’t be anything alike.”

I pressed the tip of my finger to hers and grinned. “I’ll just find a house with a shed in the side yard for you. Gage can take the bachelor’s pad above the garage. We’ll be like the Beverly Hillbillies. At least we won’t have to worry about anyone calling us dorks or nerds anymore.”

She giggled and fluttered her lashes in the sexiest eye roll ever.

But at least it kept her from noticing the shock that knocked the wind out of me at that thought. It was enough to convince me I needed out of the house. Pronto. The moment you look at the person who’d peed herself when you were seven because you convinced her to drink a large soda before going on an “excursion,” and the word “sexy” comes to mind, it was time to get a life.

* * *

Exactly one week later, Ellie called me from the school and asked me to pick her up. As if that hadn’t been strange enough, her excuse for why she needed me left me scratching my head.

“My…um, my car won’t start.”

When I asked about the possibility of another teacher driving her home, she told me no one was there, even though I distinctly heard a male voice in the background. I wasn’t sure what she had up her sleeve, but considering I was on my way home from physical therapy, I figured it was worth checking out.

Little did I know, it was a complete setup.

“St. Michael’s is a small school,” some balding man, whose name I couldn’t remember to save my life, said as we strolled toward the chain-link fence surrounding what looked to be a soccer field.

Ellie had introduced us the second I’d gotten out of the car. All I knew was the round Pillsbury Dough grandfather—who hadn’t been a “boy” in roughly eighty-two years—was the director of something. In the five minutes since I’d arrived, I felt like I’d been transported into the twilight zone. Confusion plagued me—over why this man thought it would be fun to give me a tour of the grounds, while Ellie practically bounced on the balls of her feet, patting her hands, on the verge of chanting “Hercules! Hercules!” or why I continued to follow him as if I had any interest in the size of the school or their athletic department calendar. I just figured it was because “the famous Coby Kyler” was on campus, and he felt the need to impress me. So, I went with it.

“In all, we have a little over three hundred students between grades nine and twelve. But with our athletic scholarships, we’ve managed to bring in some really bright kids who have an unwavering passion for sports. The last thing we want to do is fail them at a chance to further their talents beyond high school.” He turned to me and squinted against the sun. “I’m sure you understand that, don’t you, son?”

“Uh…yes, sir. I do.” God, I hoped that was the right answer. It was hard to tell when I stopped paying attention to anything he said as soon he started counting the student body. He could’ve listed them all by name and I would’ve had no clue.

“I’ve gotta say, kid, when Miss Teller told me about you, I thought she was yankin’ my chain. But it’s a real honor that you’re here. I won’t ask why you agreed to come, but rather settle with being thankful that you did.”

“Oh, I’m only here because Ellie—”

As if she hadn’t just jabbed me in my side with her elbow, Ellie smiled and batted her lashes, acting like I hadn’t been in the middle of explaining my presence. I mean, he hadn’t outright asked me, but he kind of did. Although, my dear friend refused to let me speak, picking up where I’d left off, except not completing my sentence the way I had planned.

“Because I saw an opportunity that’s mutually beneficial for a friend and my school. That’s me…a team player.” Her enthusiasm left me gawking at her, taking serious consideration into the likelihood that she’d turned to drugs in the last ten hours. I’d heard private schools were flooded with them—all those kids with parents who did nothing but throw money at them.

Then again…aside from right now, I’d never stepped foot in a private school, nor had I ever met anyone who’d match that description. This campus could’ve been overrun by kids who closely resembled me at their age.

I shrugged off the thought and tried to catch up to what they were talking about.

“I guess all that’s left to do is have you come in tomorrow during the day to speak with the administrator’s office and get your paperwork squared away. I’m sure they can get you ready to start next week.”

For a moment, I thought he was talking to Ellie, but when he looked right at me and kept saying “you,” I slowly realized it wasn’t meant as a uniformed “you.” He’d literally meant me. Not a generalized way of speaking about a figurative being.

“Ellie, my buttery biscuit…” I made sure to use my dramatic voice while keeping a sarcastic smile on my lips, so she couldn’t come back later and say she’d misunderstood my sentiment. Not that anyone could misunderstand being called a dinner roll, but that was beside the point. “May I have a word with you, please?”

“Oh, don’t let me hold you up. You two are free to go,” the still nameless man dismissed us as if we were his students.

Ellie waved at him before hauling ass toward a parking lot with only four cars left. I called after her, but she didn’t waste any time ignoring me as she climbed behind the wheel of her sedan. If she thought this was over, she was sorely mistaken.

And it came right after I pulled into our garage seconds behind her. “Do you plan to explain yourself, El? What was that? You said your car wouldn’t start, yet you didn’t seem to have any issue speeding through town. Then you told me you couldn’t catch a ride with anyone else because everyone had left. I guess Stay Puft back there didn’t count?”

She continued to walk in front of me, refusing to stop long enough to make eye contact, or at least toss me an answer over her shoulder. Instead, she hightailed it down the hall and into her room. But if she thought I’d stop at the door, she had another thing coming.

“Ellie…you can’t ignore this forever.” I grabbed her fingers and spun her around to face me while we stood in the middle of her bedroom. “You got me into something, and if you don’t start talking to me, then you better be prepared to talk to the school. I’m sure they’ll want an explanation why I’m not there, and you can’t blame it on me. It’s kind of hard to show up and do something when I’m not even aware of what they’re looking for.”

“They need an athletics coach. I just so happen to know a guy with plenty of experience who’s in need of a job.” Her eyes brightened with mirth, and it made it so damn hard to stay mad at her.

“Oh, yeah? I wasn’t aware my dad decided to leave DeArmanville.”

She cocked her head to the side and smirked at me. “Not your dad. You.”

“My apologies. I thought you said it was someone with experience.”

“Yeah. What would you call playing for a Major League team?”

Realizing how close we stood to one another, I released my grip on her fingers and took a step back. “That’s exactly what it’s called, Ellie—playing. Not coaching. You can’t just offer me to them, con me into showing up like you’d told me what I was there for, and expect me to be on board with it.”

“Sure I can. This is perfect for you, Coby.”

“Says who?”

“Says you.” After watching me gape at her for a few seconds, she decided to continue. “You said yourself how much you miss the game but not the limelight. Here’s your chance to get that back. Your passion and love of the sport were born in that diamond. Maybe not this exact one, but on a mound very similar. Think back to six years ago. Five years ago. Heck, even four years ago. Where were you?”

I shook my head and retreated one more step until my spine met the wall behind me. I knew where she was going with this, and I didn’t have a leg to stand on in opposition. She’d prove her point one way or another, and by fighting her, I would only delay the inevitable.

“I’ll tell you. You were on a field with a ball in your hand, the toe of your cleat kicking into the clay. In front of you, there was a boy with a bat—different jersey, a student at a different school, but at the end of the day, he was a boy just like you. Off to the side stood a man, but not just any man. He was your hero, your coach…your father. The same man who’d handed you your very first ball, who’d stood beside you every day while you chucked it at a fencepost. He was the one who taught you how to wind up your arm, where to hold your fingers, and when to let it go. The only people watching you were on the bleachers. Not at home or sitting at a bar, yelling at a TV screen. That was where you fell in love with baseball.”

“Are you trying to send me back in time, hoping I’ll relive it like a horrible rendition of 17 Again? I’m not Zac Efron. And I believe he played basketball in that movie, not baseball. If you think this will somehow rewrite history, you’re wrong.”

“I would never try to alter the path that has led you here.”

“Then why set me up like that today?”

“Because if I’d asked you first, you wouldn’t have gone for it.”

“And somehow blindsiding me with it seemed like a stellar alternative?”

She shrugged and quirked her top lip, making an obvious show of what little—if any—remorse she felt about it. “Think about it, Coby. Really take a step back and look at the opportunity in front of you. Here’s your chance to mold kids into the best players they can be. You’ll have some who only come to play because they love it. Whether they’re great or they need a lot of work, they’re there, on that field, in their uniform every day because they want to be. No matter the outcome of any given game, you’ll never doubt if they gave you their whole heart.

“Then there will be the kids who participate and work hard because baseball is their only chance at a scholarship. Without it, they won’t be able to attend college. And you’ll know that they’ll show up and give you a hundred and fifty percent of themselves because their futures ride on it. There’ll be others who strive to be the next Coby Kyler or Gage Nix. They have a thirst for it. And who better to coach them than you?”

I didn’t have an argument for her. The thought of coaching not only a high school team but at the same school where Ellie taught felt like a dream. The only reason I fought her was because I didn’t like the way she went about it. Then again, she made a very valid point—had she asked me about it, I likely would’ve told her no. Not because it was a bad idea, but because I wouldn’t have been able to differentiate this level of playing versus the League. In fact, it wasn’t until Ellie had pointed it out and made me realize the kinds of players I’d be coaching that I’d finally understood the difference.

“I’m only doing this for you.” Such a lie. I was doing it for me—no one else. Well, maybe the kids at St. Michael’s, too. They needed someone who would be on their side and not see the dollar signs. Oh, and maybe even a little for Ellie. The poor woman clearly missed me during the day and wanted me closer to her.