Chapter Eight
Lucy
The wind whistled through the stadium tunnel, making it nearly impossible to sew, so Lucy sat against the wall, staring at graffiti that said, “Despair.” She snorted. People were so melodramatic sometimes.
Including her.
She’d walked up to registration, fully prepared to act cool, to push Dylan’s buttons a bit. And she had—just not in the way she’d planned. What was it about this guy that made her feel both hot and cold, furious and hungry, sad and curious? Seriously, how many emotions could one girl’s chest hold? And why was she trying to be something she wasn’t? Did his opinion really matter that much?
She’d even dressed more girly than usual. Sure, the chicken shirt was a little out there, but a headband? For real?
She pulled it off her head and plaited her hair into pigtails. That made her feel better, more natural. Scrolling on her phone, she found the one song that made her laugh every time. Space Unicorn by Parry Gripp should be required listening at the start of every day. People would be less inclined to be snippy.
Lucy leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes, letting all her happy music wash over her. She hadn’t done this kind of forced cheer up for a long time, not since the week after Dad left, and it surprised her by working. A smile tugged at her mouth. Thinking about the kiss last night now seemed more funny—and damn hot—instead of crazy and embarrassing.
She was so busy singing to herself, she missed the first thunderclap. But the next fork of lightning burned through her eyelids, and she opened them to a sheet of water rolling down the ramp. Lucy ran up to the opening to the stands to see the guys herding the little ones into the dugout. Dylan was the last one out there, helping up a kid who’d fallen. He handed him off to one of his buddies before jogging around, looking for something.
Lucy started when his gaze met hers. He’d been checking out the stands, making sure she was under cover. Warmth spread through her chest, and she waved to let him know she was okay, before running down the ramp to hide out in the ladies’ room until the storm was over.
The sun had come out by the time noon rolled around, and Lucy found Otis standing with the other boys waiting for rides. He bounded over to her. “We got to watch the last half of the state championship game. The real coach—the high school one—paused it to show off different things. Did you know Coach Dylan was the winning pitcher? He went extra innings!”
“I didn’t know that.” Lucy glanced at the players herding the boys toward their cars. “You like him?”
“Coach Dylan? Yeah. He says I have a great arm for my age. Says I’ll have his spot in six years.” Otis’s chest swelled with pride. “It’s going to be the best camp ever.”
“I’m glad.” And she was. She caught Dylan’s eye over the heads of the little leaguers and gave him a small nod. “Mind if we hang out a minute? Dyl—Coach Dylan wanted to talk to me a second.”
“Okay.”
Otis sat on a bench outside the fence and pulled out a book: The Everything Kids’ Baseball Book. It didn’t have a library binding and it looked new. Lucy sat beside him. “Where’d that come from?”
Otis glanced up. “Coach Dylan. He gave all the pitchers one.”
Lucy’s jaw dropped. “That’s something.”
Otis ignored her. He was totally engrossed. She’d never seen him willingly read, but maybe they’d been giving him the wrong kind of books. Funny how Dylan knew what he’d like.
Once the last kid—other than Otis—was gone, Dylan came over. Otis was still reading his book, although Lucy could tell he noticed his coach was nearby. She cleared her throat. “Can we take a quick walk?”
Dylan nodded. He looked tired, but his eyes were shining, despite the damp uniform clinging to his shoulders. Lucy had to look away.
“What are you humming?” he asked.
Lucy flushed. “Oh, I hum when I walk. I…didn’t notice.”
“You were really into it.” He smiled. “Must be a song you like.”
Yeah, Space Unicorn. You know it? It’s great. Lucy shrugged. “Not sure. It could be anything. So, um, about last night.”
He nodded, and his cheeks were pink, too. “I’m sorry I yelled. I have no idea what happened to me. I’m usually more chill than that.”
She cocked her head. “Maybe it was a sign you shouldn’t be.”
“Maybe, but I didn’t have to be rude.” He paused. “I’m not that guy. Usually.”
They’d walked halfway down the foul line from first. Otis was still in view, barely, and Lucy could tell he was pretending to read. Her brother was very interested in what his sister did with his beloved Coach Dylan.
“And I’m not that girl.” She laughed softly. “Wait, that’s not true. My mom accuses me of being a hothead. She’s probably right. But I didn’t have to be rude, either. I have a problem with pushing buttons to see what happens.”
“Is that why you kissed me?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “I think you kissed me.”
“You started it.” He swayed closer to her, mischief in his eyes. “I don’t like to leave things unfinished.”
“Oh, I could tell.” Her pulse quickened, both from his nearness, and from curiosity. “Who hurt you?”
Surprise flitted across his features. He was closing down. “Nobody.”
“Not true.” Disappointed, she turned to walk back to Otis. “But when you’re ready to share, I’ll listen.”
She left him there, wondering if he’d follow. After a second, he called, “What’s with the chicken?”
She smiled, but didn’t turn. “I’m a fan.”
“Mom, I think Lucy scared Coach Dylan!” Otis burst through the front door of the shop before she could catch him. “Tell her to be nice!”
“For the tenth time, I didn’t scare him. We were just talking.”
Otis rounded on her, his face stern. “Then why did he run off after you talked to him? I wanted to say bye.”
Guilt clawed up Lucy’s throat. “Maybe he had something to do.”
Mom stopped putting away quilting supplies, giving a meaningful look to the three old ladies browsing fabric in the corner, then went to the back room. Otis and Lucy followed.
Mom took a seat at her sewing table. “Okay, what’s this about? Lucy, were you messing with the coach?”
She always assumed it was Lucy’s fault. “No.” Well, yes, but not how anybody thought. “We were talking. I, um, saw him at the lake last night. That’s all.”
Mom’s eyes widened, and the corner of her mouth turned up. “That’s all?”
Otis pointed at Lucy. “See? I told you she was bothering him.”
“Honey, I don’t think this is quite what you imagined. It’ll be okay.” Mom reached out and caught him into a hug that he promptly squirmed out of. “Don’t be jealous if Lucy talks to Coach Dylan. They’re the same age, I think, so they have stuff in common.”
Something like horror came over Otis’s face. “Oh, no…no way, Lucy. You aren’t going to date my coach.”
Lucy threw up her hands. “Who said I was? We. Were. Talking. That’s it.”
Otis went on like he hadn’t heard a word. “Then she’ll break up with him over something stupid, like eating chicken nuggets, and he won’t want to coach me anymore.”
“Okay, first off, he’s paid to coach you,” Mom said. “Second, your sister is free to date any decent young man she chooses.”
“There’s no dating. None. I’m too busy for a guy right now, anyway. My projects aren’t getting done with us arguing, either.” Lucy stalked to her sewing chair and pulled the baby blanket out of her bag to finish the caterpillar. “I’m going to work.”
She was starting to feel like she was in a box that was steadily becoming smaller, with no chance of fresh air. It was summer, and she hadn’t had a single real day off yet. God, how’d she get here?
Stop stressing already. You have work to do.
She shoved her earbuds in and turned on her happy music as loud as she could, but it didn’t drown out Otis’s frown as he plunked into his beanbag chair to play video games.