Chapter 30

"Hey,"Parker said, glancing over at me with that mischievous twinkle in his eye—one that usually preceded his infamous foot-in-mouth moments. "You didn"t forget your pussy willow, did you?"

I snickered. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I shook my head. "Clearly, my parents are pulling a prank on me by claiming that you are my sibling."

Parker raised an eyebrow in genuine confusion as he glanced over at me, his hands still on the steering wheel. "What? I thought that"s what it was called?"

The earnestness in his voice nearly had me bursting into laughter, but I held it in, shaking my head while reaching for the flower pot I placed in the back seat. "No, Parker, not even close," I said, trailing my finger over a delicate petal. "I"m hoping to be able to do something with the petals."

"My thing is baseball, not plants," he conceded with a good-natured shrug.

The road stretched endlessly before us, knowing we'd have a couple hours until we were back home. I glanced at Parker, his face concentrated on the road, hands still steady on the wheel.

"Shit!" Parker's sudden outburst almost made me jump out of my seat.

"What?" I asked, startled as I looked around to make sure we weren't about to get into an accident.

Parker blew out a frustrated breath. "The awards—Boston's and mine—we completely forgot to grab them, along with some gear I left behind. We need to pick them up before we leave town."

"Seriously?" I slouched in my seat, already feeling the pull of our impending ride home. "Fine," I sighed, sitting back up. "Let's make it quick."

He nodded, already veering off at the next exit, doubling back toward the clubhouse with an urgency.

"Come on," Parker said, as he cut the engine. "Might need an extra set of hands."

"Coming," I grumbled, pushing the door open and following him across the gravelly lot.

Parker led the way to the main office and then grabbed the shimmering awards waiting on the main desk just before picking up a bag of equipment below it.

"Just carry this one for me," Parker said, handing me Boston's award, which felt cool and a lot heavier than I expected.

"Got it," I said, balancing the trophy against my chest.

"Alright, let's hit the road for real this time," he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as we started to make our way back to the car.

"Great season, kids," Coach Levy's voice boomed from behind, startling us both. His smile softened the habitual sternness of his features, and he chuckled, a rare sound I don't think I heard once all summer. "You boys were a royal pain in my ass, but it was an honor to coach you."

"Wouldn't be a team without a little trouble, right?" Parker shot back, grinning as he shrugged his arms.

"Trouble? That's putting it lightly," Coach Levy said, his words were saturated with sarcasm.

"Hey, Coach," Parker began, curiosity lining his brow, "how did coach Ivy convince you to let Boston and me on the team this summer?"

"Actually, Parker," Coach Levy began, shifting his weight to lean against the edge of his cluttered desk, "It wasn't your coach who convinced me."

Parker's brow furrowed, confusion etched across his face. I paused, still holding Boston's trophy as I listened intently.

"Wait, if it wasn't coach, then who was it?" Parker questioned.

"Reese's mom gave me a call out of the blue," Coach Levy revealed with a nonchalant shrug, as though the admission held no significant consequence. "It was nice to hear from her. Haven't had the pleasure in years—since high school." He paused, a reflective silence filling the room before he continued. "She said she needed a favor. Told me there were two boys who were the best there is, and that they deserved to play for the Blue Devils. Figured if she was reaching out after all this time, it had to be worth it."

"Reese's mom?" I blurted out, unable to contain my surprise. The pieces didn't quite fit together in my mind. Reese's family dynamics were complicated at best, but this didn't make any sense.

I glanced at Parker, whose expression mirrored my own bewilderment, then back at Coach Levy. "But why would Reese's stepmom want Boston and Parker on the team?" The question tumbled out, driven by curiosity and an inexplicable sense of confusion.

"No, not his stepmother." Coach's voice interrupted my thoughts. His arms were casually folded across his chest as if he were discussing the weather and not about to drop a bombshell. "His real mom."

"There's a picture of us kids," Coach Levy said, as he gestured toward a well-worn photograph on the bulletin board hanging above his cluttered desk. "We were quite the bunch back in the day." His finger jabbed towards the sun-faded image, pointing out faces.

Parker leaned in, squinting at the picture. There were several other photos that surrounded it, but none were as captivating as this one. There, in the middle of a group of grinning teenagers, was Reese's dad—who looked the same, sporting the same rebellious smirk that Reese had.

"Wow, Mr. Carrington looks the same as he did back then," Parker remarked with a chuckle.

Coach Levy laughed, a deep rumbling sound. "Oh, you bet. And right there—" His finger shifted slightly to the left, hovering over a girl with bright eyes and an unmistakable smile. "That's Reese's mom, Cindee."

"What the fuck?" Parker breathed out, leaning closer until his nose was almost touching the wall. Sure enough, there was the undeniable resemblance—the same unmistakable sparkling eyes that Boston had.

"Yep, she was something else, always lighting up the room."

The room seemed to tilt on its axis, and I blinked at him, my mind scrambling to keep up. "Cindee?" I asked while it was still not clicking in my head.

"Yep," Coach confirmed with a nod, unaware he had just detonated a revelation that would change everything.

Parker's jaw clenched, his usual easy going demeanor replaced by a look of dawning realization. Coach Levy simply watched us, his expression unreadable. "Are we seeing this correctly?" Parker asked quietly, but I could barely hear him over the rush of blood in my ears.

I shook my head, trying to piece this all together. Cindee... I said the name again, a whisper that gradually grew into a scream of recognition inside my skull.

"Wait," I stammered, my heart pounding like it wanted to escape my chest. My eyes shot to Parker, then to his coach, as if I could demand him to make sense of this chaos. "Boston's mom is... Reese's mom? No fucking way."