21. Jackson

Isigh a huge sigh and sink onto the hard wooden bench in the changing room. Man, I love baseball. Did you know I love baseball?

Best of all, my arm is feeling right back on top form, and the whole team have been so supportive of my injury. I decided not to tell them that it was technically Freya's fault because I didn't want any of them to be nasty to her when they met her. She means too much to me to let the other important group of people in my life dislike her.

Not only was normal practice good today, but I stayed a little later to go through a couple of plays with the coach, and that was all very positive too. We have a big game tomorrow, but I'm feeling good about it. In fact, I'm feeling the best about any of this that I have in a long time. Life is great.

I'm just taking a few seconds to myself when Ben the batboy comes running up to me. "Hey, Mr. Kerr. Can you get your phone? It's been ringing like crazy in here. Next time can you maybe put it on silent?"

What I want to say is, "Hey, I don't think you're supposed to speak to me like that," but what I actually say is, "Sure thing. Where is it?"

"How should I know?" says Ben. "It would just be really cool if you could get a less annoying ringtone."

I decide not to say anything else before I regret it. After all, Ben is the one who has to deal with all our dirty socks.

He sighs, shakes his head, and then wanders off, leaving me alone again, my good mood ruined. Who was calling me? I don't know that many people outside of this room.

I want to change, but a sudden terror grips me that someone has died, so I rush over to my locker and rummage around in my bag until I find my phone. The screen lights up with twelve missed calls. Shit. They're all from Freya.

And then it hits me. I agreed to meet her for lunch today, and I completely forgot because my phone's been in here the whole time. It's not like I even saw her message until now. She's gonna be so mad with me. And I deserve every second of it. But that doesn't stop the guilt. I have to get her to forgive me.

I take my phone and sit back down, dialing her number. Straight away, she picks up with a terse, "Hello."

I launch right into my apology. "Freya, I am so sorry. I got completely distracted at practice because we were going curveballs and plays and?—"

"It's fine." She cuts me off in a voice that very much suggests it isn't fine. "I'm glad you're not dead."

"Me too," I say and wince because that's not what I meant at all. She's going to think I'm not being serious at all right now.

"Of course," she says, and I wince again.

"Look, Freya, why don't we do dinner tonight? Or lunch tomorrow? I've been dying to see you. I've missed you this week."

"Sure," she says, and I'm not certain if that's a ‘sure, let's get lunch' sure or a ‘sure you have' sure.

I shake my head to myself, trying not to get worked up. "So, lunch, yeah?"

"Look, Jackson, I've got to work, okay? I'm sorry. I'll see you some other time." There's a catch in her voice that sounds almost like she's about to cry. I've screwed this up so badly.

"Soon, yeah?" I say, not caring if I sound desperate.

"Okay. Bye," she says, then hangs up before I get a chance to explain anything else.

"Shit!" I yell, standing up and kicking the bench. How could I be so stupid as to do this? How could I believe there was any way she wouldn't get bored of me?

Ben comes back into the room and I glare at him, willing him to say something. He doesn't, but I can feel him looking at me, judging me, having thoughts about things he knows nothing about. It's enough to make my blood boil, but instead of yelling like I want to, I throw my phone into my bag, slip on my hoodie, and stalk out of the room, pushing hard past Ben as I go.

He calls something out after me, but the ringing in my ears is too loud to hear it.