62. CODY

CODY

T ogether we waited as all the other players and staff flooded onto the field after the Lorettes were announced, even after the national anthem was played. I rocked back and forth on my heels as we waited in uncomfortable silence.

“Please put your hands together for Silas Shore and everyone’s favorite shortstop, number nineteen–Cael Cody.”

Silas led the charge as we jogged onto the field. The lights were bright and surged in hot waves against my skin as we made our way to the center. The roof to the stadium had been left cracked open to let in the crisp winter air and cool the crowd naturally, the sky pitch black above us.

The Hornets and Lorrettes hadn’t broken their lines, still positioned on either side of the mound, most fidgeting with their hats or with their hands tucked behind their back staring up at the rowdy crowd. Noticeably missing from Lorettes' lineup was Joshua Logan. I scowled and wondered where he might have been to miss today's event. He loved the rival game more than anyone.

“Good evening,” Silas spoke into the mic, gripping his papers in his left hand as he waved them around in the air. “Welcome to the seventh annual Rivals Exhibition game!”

The crowd cheered for him in excitement.

“We’re excited, too,” he confirmed. “Now, I know usually it’s my father out here addressing you all, amping you up for the new season, and thanking you for being loyal Harbor fans, but he’s busy so you get me.” I stiffened beside him but held my stupid grin and nodded as he fumbled through his speech without lines or direction. The panic seeped from his usually cool demeanor and gave me secondhand-heartburn.

“Like every season before, the profits from today's game go to a worthy charity or foundation that gives back to the Harbor community.” Silas sidestepped, moving out of my space and held out the microphone to me. “Cael Cody, everyone.” He led a thunderous chorus of cheers. “We missed him too.” Silas smiled and looked up to the bright lights. “During the off-season between careful recovery and surgery, Cael’s been working tirelessly with me to put this entire event together, it’s only fair I let him tell you what foundation we’re supporting this year.”

A nervous laugh tumbled from my lips, and I cocked my head to the side in confusion.

“If there was ever a time for you to be well… you, it’s now.” He held the microphone out for me to take. “Don’t get shy on me, Cody. Give them a show,” he whispered, just for us, and I swallowed the nerves as my fingers wrapped around the microphone.

Silas tapped my shoulder and handed me a small piece of paper with a paragraph of script on it. My brows pinched together and the smile came back to me as I read what he wrote.

“Are you sure?” I asked him in shock.

He scowled at me and motioned for me to get on with it.

“Alright, alright.” I shook out the crippling fear, found my footing, and stepped forward.

I filled my chest with air, my lungs stinging and my heart racing.

“Who thought it was a good idea to give me a mic?” I yelled with laughter in every word as the crowd cheered. “It’s insane here tonight! Who’s ready to see us kick the Lorette’s asses?” I hollered and the stadium thrummed with anticipation. The small groups of students that had traveled down from Lorette chimed in with a few, dull boos. “I know I am!” I chuckled and took the time to inhale deeply before bringing the mic back to my lips.

“This little piece of paper that Doctor Shore just handed to me contains the announcement for the foundation. A cause close to my heart and something that will mean the world to the entire Nest.” I turned to look at them all with a tight nod, gratitude surging through me as they all raised their hands in unison, tapping their chests and encouraging me.

Always together, two steps at a time.

I tripped over my words, choking up on the microphone with a hint of panic I had never experienced before. For all my flaws, public speaking was not something I was afraid of…but suddenly… I couldn’t find my voice.

I turned to find Dad, maybe in a pitiful attempt for comfort but he wasn’t there. The spot he had been previously filling was glaring back at me.

And then all the lights in the stadium turned off except for the hazy yellow that shone at my back, highlighting the field in a circle around me.

“ Up , Cael!” Dad’s voice echoed from the dugout. “Look up.”

I listened, looking up through the cracked open stadium ceiling, my breathing strangled with panic as my eyes adjusted to the darkness and the stars shone back at me, dancing around the moon in the sky.

An apology in the best way Dad knew how to give one. Bringing us all together again. Sun, moon and stars.

Hey, Mama.

I inhaled one shaky breath, filling my lungs as I looked back down to the paper and finished the speech.

“Through the generosity of the Silas Shore and all of you tonight, we were able to create the Rainey Day Scholarship. A fund that will help students on the path to recovery looking to further their education and start fresh here at Harbor University. A scholarship named after my Mama– our Mama , that would last long after we were all gone from the walls of Harbor.”

I paused to catch my breath and to keep from crying as Ella’s bright smile caught my eye. A foundation for kids like us, struggling but trying. She nodded, silently encouraging me to continue.

“Funding that would honor her name and support students like me. Kids who needed a little more help to find themselves and give them the resources to get an education that would help keep them healthy.” My heart swelled and tears stung at my eyes. I angled away from the crowd, and I pulled the microphone away from my face to let go of the shaky sigh as the cheering grew louder. “If I keep going you’re all going to watch me cry and that’s– I’ll hand it back over to Silas’ s now, but hey…” I shook out the sadness and plastered a smile on. “Let’s kick some Lorette ass?” The horns blew loud and the crowd lost their minds as I turned back to Silas.

“Good job kid.” He pressed his shoulder into mine, praising over the air horns and screaming.

“This is…Thank you.” I nodded at him.

“Unnecessary.” His tone was stern. “It’s about time we start doing some good around here. It’s what she would have wanted.” Silas swallowed roughly. I hadn’t missed the fact that it wasn’t the Shore family behind the foundation. Only Silas’s name was in the announcement. He rolled back his shoulders and forced a smile to his face as he took the microphone back from me.

“Now for the bad news.” Silas straightened out but gave me a proud smile, and my Dad approached from behind us to stand on the other side.

His green eyes narrowed under the lights, and for a second, I could have sworn they were glossy as he excused me back to the line-up. “One more time for Cael Cody,” his rough and strangled voice said over the mic.

I fell back in line between Dean and Van. Mitchell nudged my shoulder with a smile and Dean’s hand found my wrist with a tiny squeeze I hadn’t expected from him. I watched as my Dad discussed the game, nearly boring the crowd into a coma.

“As you all know, Arlo King is moving on from starting pitcher and captain of the Hornets, we’re fortunate enough to announce that he’s staying in Harbor and will work with Nicholas King as our new assistant pitching coach.”

Everyone cheered as Arlo stepped forward with his award-winning fake smile and waved.

“He was an incredible captain and we’re sad to lose him at the helm of the Hornets team. After much discussion, and a few sleepless nights we have decided to name Dean Tucker as the new captain of the Harbor Hornet’s baseball team.”

Dean tensed beside me, all the slack excitement was quickly replaced with panic as Dad turned to him with his arm out. “Dean has consistently shown that he has what it takes to lead the Hornets into our next chapter and all of the players will agree that there is no one else we’d trust. ”

“This is the part where you step out and wave.” I leaned over and pushed on his lower back with my hand. “Big smiles,” I encouraged as he forced a bright, nervous smile. “You can do better than that,” I whispered with a laugh and pinched his ass.

“Aye!” He swatted me away and turned the motion into a wave as he plastered on a confident smile for everyone.

It was clear to the team that Dean hadn’t been warned before the announcement, but everyone huddled around him as he stepped back from the mound. They shoved him roughly around, laughing and smiling as they embraced their new captain. Congratulations filled the air and across the huddle, he caught my eye.

“I’m proud of you,” I mouthed and he rolled his eyes.

Dean winked, and relief washed through me.

For all our trouble, we would figure it out.

We had to.

Dean took the coin toss with shaky hands and tense shoulders, but he won and we were set to bat first with a few tiny yips of eagerness. We flooded into the dugout, shoulder to shoulder, shoving each other around as we worked ourselves up for the game. God, I missed that adrenaline rush, the feeling that rushed through my bloodstream and got my heart pumping faster. I was home surrounded by the sounds of cheering and air horns, the smells of popcorn and sand.

For the first time in seven years.

I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

There was no distance to count, no pain to measure. The grief subsided and the clouds opened up and the stars shone down on me. Even as the lights went back up I could feel her there in the stadium. Dad stood on the stairs, watching us with a smile on his face. Giving everyone a few moments longer to revel in the excitement and joy before he clapped his hands together and brought the focus back to the game.

I grabbed a bat and made my way back onto the field to stretch, looking out over the stadium as I swung my arm in a loose circle and let the weight of the bat gently pull the muscles. I could feel Ella watching my every move with her concerned brown eyes. She had given me the go-ahead, but I could tell she was still extremely nervous about today.

Weeks in the batting cages with her, proving her suspicions wrong, led to this moment. It was my first game back since the accident, and everything was on the line for my future, whatever that may be.

“You know,” Ella leaned over the padded fence that separated the dugout from the field and squinted at me, “you did an amazing job putting this together.”

“Silas did. I was just there to make sure Grandpa didn’t die sitting at his computer.” I ignored her soft smile and deflected her praise.

“Hey, grumpy!” A ball hit me in the shoulder, and I turned to see her with a scowl on her face. “I’m sick of this pity party. It’s boring, ” she mocked, her brows knitted together, and her jaw tensed. “You did this, so be proud of yourself.”

The sight of her being mad made me laugh. I scooped the ball up from the sand and rolled it between my fingers until my skin felt gritty. I was trying, I really was. It was hard to navigate a twice-over heartbreak, but that time, being older and understanding the reasons why it was better this way…

Rolling out my neck, I stopped on her gaze and asked her, “Did you know about Dean?”

“Silas and I were asked a few things but that was before the decision was made,” she said, “He earned it, and he’s going to be a perfect fit for what comes next.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Peachy.” I smiled at her. “I’m sorry I’ve been a downer recently,” I apologized. “It did turn out pretty good.” I looked up and over the stadium as the Ump called us to start.

“Something to remember for next semester.” She winked at me. “I need to go grab some things, just breathe,” she reminded me and slipped back into the dugout, leaving me to stew over her suggestion.

I finished my stretches, my mind skipping around in terrified circles. I had never been scared to play ball, but I was horrified to step back up to the box and swing the bat .

I sucked in a shaky breath, hopped the banister into my dugout, and beelined for the hulking frame of Tucker. “Dean.” I grabbed his collar and threw my arm over his shoulder. “They need a ‘ this game doesn’t matter’ pep talk.”

I need it. I tossed him a pleading look.

“It does matter.” Dean shook his head.

“No, it doesn’t,” I argued and forced a smile for him. “This game is for show. For everyone to have fun and make the crowd feel included. It’s as stressful as the finals out here, Van has already devoured two canisters of chew, and Todd looks like he might die of heat stroke.”

We looked back at the guy sweating bullets in the conditioned, temperature-controlled stadium. A genuine laugh exploded from me. "There’s no reason for him to be that sweaty!”

“Alright,” he groaned and turned to them, stepping up onto the step and getting their attention. “Guys.” He put his hands up, and the request came out so soft half of them didn’t even hear him at first until he repeated himself a little louder. “Stop worrying about the score, stop stressing about the outcome, the new reports, or the headlines. Clear your heads and remember why we do this.”

He tapped two fingers to his chest, and the team followed.

“Play this game like we're at the cabin. It’s just us out there on the field having fun. Don’t do it for any other reason than the love of the game,” Dean said.

Todd hollered first, cheering on Dean with a goofy grin as the rest of the team joined in and got themselves riled up for the second half of the innings.

“Not bad.” Arlo patted Dean on the shoulder. “You’re a natural.”

Dean’s face twisted into something between raw shock and overwhelming gratitude. “Did you hear that?” He shook his head, and a bright smile formed that made my chest warm. “Arlo complimented me.”

“That’s my boy.” I clapped a hand on his cheek and absorbed his childish enthusiasm and wide smile into my bloodstream.

“Cael, you’re up!” Dad barked, and I pushed away from the banister, gently pounding my fist against Dean’s chest in passing. “There’s an empty pocket in right field,” Dad explained with his face turned toward me. “ Fill it. ”

I went to step out, and he grabbed the collar of my jersey. “Take a breath, kid,” he instructed. His voice shifted from scary Coach to my Dad. Hushed and careful, he looked at me with pride as a smile curled on his lips. “Feel everything.”

He pushed me out onto the field. Adrenaline filled every aching, scared muscle in my body as I closed my eyes and took in the smells and sounds of the stadium. I walked across the line, the sand crunching with each shaky step closer to the box. I filled my chest with sweaty, clay-scented air and opened my eyes.

I could do it. The stadium thrummed in approval.

The Lorrettes relief pitcher, Yuri Fortuna, rolled the ball between his fingers and stared at me with his horrifyingly dark brown eyes. He was good, but he was no Joshua Logan. Yuri had ticks. Like the way his back leg shook when he was going to throw a slider. Or how he’d run his hand through his thick red hair before a curveball.

I adjusted my grip on the back, tilting my head in and waiting for the ball as I ran through my list. My shoulder didn’t hurt, I hadn’t touched drugs in months, and the itch to drink had faded out and never returned. I had been given more time with Clementine and finally repaired my relationship with my Dad.

I could hit this ball.

I know I could.

Feedback screeched over the PA system and caused the entire stadium to fall quiet.

“What the hell?” Yuri threw his hands in the air. “What kind of bullshit is your team pulling to win, Cody?” He asked in a threatening tone.

“This isn’t us, you shit-for-brains.” I rolled my eyes and stared at him like he was an idiot before searching around for the source of the interruption.

“Cael Cody.” My name was hummed over the speakers in a shaky, sweet voice I never thought I would hear again. “We never finished our interview.”