RYAN
Smack. The ball collides with my glove. Bottom of the sixth and the game is tied. I wiggle the fingers of my throwing hand to keep them from becoming stiff from the cold. Late October and it’s the coldest day of the year. Cold-weather games bring strange sensations. The wind burns my cheeks and fingers, but sweat forms from the heat trapped beneath the mock turtleneck of my uniform.
“Let’s go, Ryan!” Dad calls from the stands. Playing the perfect wife and mother, Mom sits right beside him with a fleece blanket covering her legs. My eyes scan the bleachers again. Beth’s not here and she won’t be showing.
A high-pitched whistle originates from home plate. The new batter is taking his time for the third pitch in what I assume is an attempt to freeze me out. Logan steps to the left of the batter’s box and motions for me to throw. He wants me to keep moving so my muscles will stay warm. I’m distracted and have pitched the shittiest game of my life. My arm winds back, releases, and I curse when the ball flies two feet to the left of Logan’s glove.
Logan pulls the catcher’s mask to the top of his head and walks toward the mound.
“We’ll find her,” Chris says as he approaches me from the right. “Lacy’s already looking for her and after the game me, you, and Logan will do whatever we have to do to get her to listen.”
Beth skipped class. I should have gone after her then, but Coach would have kept me from playing. “I can’t focus.”
“Yeah, you can,” says Chris. “You have ice water in your veins when you pitch. Go to that place and you’ll be fine.”
How do I explain that I never had ice water in my veins when I pitch? That there is a constant burning pressure that threatens to destroy my pitch even when I’m not distracted.
“Your pitch,” Logan starts when he reaches the mound, “is everywhere. Rein it in and you’ll get to her faster.”
He’s right. I will. Chris swears under his breath and I follow his troubled gaze to the first baseline fence. Lacy stands on the opposite side with Beth’s pack dangling from her shoulder.
Logan gets in my face. “One pitch. One more pitch.”
“We’ve got another inning,” Chris protests.
Logan throws him a glare. “One pitch.”
They return to their spots and the batter digs his cleats into the dirt. This one’s for Beth. Logan flashes two peace signs in a row. I nod, glance over my left shoulder, and spot a shadow of movement. Crossing my right arm over my left, I throw the ball to the first baseman, and hear the sweet word come out of the ump’s mouth: “Out!”
The crowd cheers and I run off the field, into the dugout, and out to the other side. Lacy’s eyes are wide with panic and she extends Beth’s backpack to me. “I don’t know what it means.”
I tear the pack open as Lacy continues to talk. “I drove by her house, but no one was there. Then I drove around town and came up with nothing. So I went home, hoping that maybe she dropped by or called the landline, and I found this.”
The pressure that always threatens me explodes and I toss the pack to the ground. My hand clutches the bottle of rainwater with the ribbons tied to it. I suck in a breath before unfolding the note tucked into the ribbons: I thought I could, but I can’t.
Dammit. Her mom. She’s gone after her mom and Beth has had enough time to find a way into Louisville by now. I race back into the dugout and grab my bat bag.
“Ryan?” Coach calls from the other end of the dugout.
“I’m sorry. I’ve got an emergency. Put Will in for me.”
I slip the bottle of water into my bag and toss it over my shoulder. Chris wraps a solid hand around my arm. “Where are you going? We have one more inning and the game is tied. Will can’t hold these batters like you can.”
“Beth’s running away. If I don’t stop her, I’ll lose her.”
Chris tightens his grip. “You promised me you’d never walk from another game.”
The ice water Chris prayed for finally enters my veins. “Let me go before I physically remove your hand from my arm.”
“You’re choosing her over us?”
Logan angles himself between me and Chris. “Let him go, Chris. He’d never dog you if you chose Lacy over a game.”
“That’s different,” yells Chris. “I love Lacy.”
“Take a look at him.” Logan gestures to me. “He’s in love with Beth. You and Lacy don’t own the emotion.”
Chris eyes me and I see the war inside him. He yanks the hat off his head and turns from me. I’m letting him down, but I let Beth down first. Logan nods at me and I give him a quick nod of thanks back.
The crowd buzzes with conversation as I exit the dugout. I keep my head down and ignore how people stare and even the occasional shout. The perfect Stone is doing a very imperfect thing and I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks about it. I hear loud thumping footfalls striking the metal bleachers. If I’m lucky, I can hightail it to my Jeep before Dad reaches the parking lot.
Like the rest of today, I’m not lucky. “Ryan!”
I don’t have time for this. I open the Jeep’s door and toss my bag in the back. Dad grabs hold of the door. “What are you doing? You have another inning to play and the game is tied.”
“Beth’s in trouble and I’m going after her.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going to finish that game.” Dad’s face reddens and he places his hand on his hips. In twenty-five years, I’ll be his clone if I continue on my current path. My entire life I desired nothing more than to be him. It’s funny how life changes.
“If I don’t go after her, she’ll be gone.”
“Let her go. She needs to be gone. Since she entered your life you’ve lost focus on everything that’s important. You’re letting down your team, Ryan. You are single-handedly destroying your career in baseball. Everything I’ve worked so hard for!”
A strange mixture of ice and heat fights through my veins as I go toe-to-toe with my father. “You haven’t worked hard for it! I have. This is my life. Not yours. If I want to play baseball, I’ll play. If I want to go to college, I’ll go to college. If I want to talk to my brother, I will. If I want to go after Beth, I am. You are not making my decisions anymore.”
Spit flies out of his mouth as he yells at me, “You’re going to destroy your life over a drug-using waste of life?”
Power surges through me and my fist connects with his face. Adrenaline shakes my body and I watch as my father stumbles back. “Don’t you ever call her that again.”
I jump into the Jeep, turn on the engine, and push the accelerator. I don’t lose and I’m not losing her.