4. Alex

4

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I haven't been rightin the head since summer. Since I found out about my parents' split and my dad's . . . extra-curricular activities. I've felt so many things—embarrassed, angry, betrayed. Mostly, though, I've felt alone.

That's my fault. I don't know why I didn't tell Nikki. No, that's a lie. I know. Shame is the easy answer, but the truth is my parents were once best friends, too. And look how my dad fucked that all up. I can't lose Nikki. It's why I drew the line at friends in high school. And damn, that wasn't easy, because when Nikki decided to start wearing crop tops and tight jeans all the time, I had to put away the sweat pants and stick to jeans. The last thing I needed was for her to catch me popping a boner when I drove her to school in the morning.

I may have been a hormone-fueled dumbass at sixteen, but I had enough smarts to know that Nikki Thomas was more to me than just some really great curves. And I mean great curves. That have only gotten so much greater. So, so much greater. But it's the other things she is—my steady, my conscience, my roots—that has always kept me in check.

And if I start to forget that, I'm sure one call from my mom will remind me.

My mom has been calling daily. This afternoon, it was to gripe about how mushy Wela's carne asada was, and how she's worried her mom is starting to forget things because she spaced and let it marinate for almost eighteen hours. Last week, we talked about the to-do list of things my mom needed done around the house, stuff I'm sure my dad would gladly do, but my mom is too proud to ask. I don't blame her. Two best friends in the coldest of wars. They can't even call each other.

I can't imagine not being able to call Nikki. To tell her about my day. About how fucking stressed I am that I'm going to blow it my senior year and not make the draft. Or about how much it sucks to watch my family fall apart. I kept my parents' split from her for months, and it was torture. To lose that connection—my person—forever . . . well, it's simply not worth the risk.

What we are now is too important.

"Dude, your heart isn't even in this," Cole says, tossing his controller onto the coffee table after kicking my ass in Super Smash Bros. for a fifth time.

"Sorry. I really wanna go hit, but I know I can't hit twenty hours a day to get out of my slump. I have to?—"

"Trust the process," we both say in unison, laughing. My laugh, though, is shorter.

I've been trying for weeks now to trust that my hard work will pay off. No, for months. My fall numbers were shit. And Edwin's were good. I'm not sure how long that faith Coach seems to have in me is going to hold up over common sense. We need to win games, and if Edwin's bat in the lineup does that more than mine, well . . .

"Hey, did you know Nikki hasn't missed a single game?" My brain hasn't been able to lose this detail since she said it. I keep ruminating on it.

Cole laughs hard from the kitchen. He comes out with two beers, handing me one then flopping back down into the well-worn sofa cushion before rolling his head to the side and hitting me with the duh look.

"No, like, I mean even the away ones," I explain.

Cole blinks slowly then holds out his palm as if to say—duh. Again.

I tsk and shake my head, not wanting to go down this road with him. Yeah, Nikki and I are good together. Like friends. We're friends.

"Are you telling me you never thought about that?"

I nod and reach for my controller, wishing I hadn't started this. "Yeah, yeah. It was just on my mind, is all."

Cole grabs his controller and pauses the game I just started. I press begin again and he pauses right away.

"Fuck, man. Alright! She goes to all my games. I'm oblivious. What do you want?" I toss the controller again. At this point I'd rather punch my friend for real rather than on the video game.

He chuckles.

"She borrows your car to drive to the away games. Some of those are far. And yeah, usually she can drag a friend along to split a hotel room, or she makes the drive back and forth every night because she has to be in the dorm for her job. But sometimes, she drops the money to stay on her own and sticks around by herself. You, my friend, are an idiot."

His laugh is different this time. Frustrated. Fuck, maybe I'm frustrated with me too.

"Yeah, well, I don't ask her to do that." I squeeze my eyes shut as soon as the words come out because what a dick thing to say. And I don't mean it.

Cole gets up and shakes his head, looking down at me.

"You don't get it, man. You don't have to ask her." He leaves me with what I already know and goes to his room, shutting the door.

Great. More time by myself with my thoughts.

I grab the TV remote, flip the setting to put the Cubs game on and turn the volume down to a low mumble. It makes me feel less alone.

My phone buzzes in my pocket so I shift and pull it out to see a text from Nikki, and all I can do is laugh to myself. Of course she's texting now, when my head's a mess with thoughts of her. I'm sure if Cole were still out here he'd bust a gut at the irony. Or he'd call it fate or some annoying shit that probably has some truth to it.

NIKKI: Hey, I need help getting my numbers to line up. Do you have a sec?

I breathe out and weigh the time, 10:14, against my instincts. I could say I'm almost asleep. It's a practice night so not weird that I'd knock off early. But then she'd spend the next however many hours on YouTube trying to figure out what she's doing wrong in the accounting software.

I hit the call icon and bring my phone to my ear.

"Oh, thank God," she answers.

I chuckle.

"That bad, huh?" I carry my beer into the kitchen and drop it in the sink. I barely took a sip and if this is as rough as I expect it is, I'm going to need to head over there.

"Alex, I don't even know how I did this, but I somehow copied everything twice, and now it looks like my fake company is embezzling money or . . . I don't know, printing their own! Can you help?"

I smirk at her exasperated tone. I can picture her pacing, hands gesticulating as she points and blames the computer. She's a wiz on that soundboard. I don't know how none of that translates to other technology.

"Okay, hit pause and do not touch anything else. I'll be there in two."

"Thank you. And I won't even talk near my computer. I swear it's listening and doing things to screw with me." She hangs up and I stare at the ended call screen, amused.

I glance at Cole's shut door and chew at my mouth for a few seconds. I'm glad he left and isn't here to see this. I'm sure he'd have a full evaluation of how I'm about to go running over when Nikki calls. But that's nothing new. Which again, he'd probably point that out too.

I lock up, jump in the car, and make it to the visitor lot for Nikki's dorm in minutes. She has her door propped open when I arrive, so I close it behind me. She's sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, rubbing her temples and staring at her screen.

"Are you trying to mentally bend it to your will?"

She blinks up with wide eyes and gritted teeth.

"Oh, I'm willing things at it. Like, to catch on fire." She nudges her laptop so the screen faces me.

"I wouldn't recommend that. This building is pretty old and it would go up like that," I say with a finger snap before taking her computer and sitting at the end of her bed with my back against the wall. I prop the computer on my lap and gesture with my head for her to scoot next to me.

"Come learn," I say.

"Ugh, do I have to? Can't you just . . . I don't know. Do it?" She flits her fingers at her computer as if sprinkling magic at it, and I laugh out once.

"You know my stance on cheating," I lob back at her. She rolls her eyes and utters, "Cheaters never win," in the whiniest voice she can muster. Funny how that mantra I have thrown at her our whole lives every time she tries to cheat at Uno or board games has a whole different connotation now. There's a different kind of cheater in my life.

The short silence left in the void indicates Nikki might realize this new double-meaning too. After a few quiet seconds, she drags her body over to me, her face sour. Flopping on her stomach, she shoves a pillow under her chest and arms to help support her upper body as she lies next to me and peers at the computer screen.

"This isn't going to be as hard as you think," I begin, clicking open a window at the top right of the screen. Nikki's head bops up and she taps on where I clicked.

"Wait a second, there's stuff in there? Like . . . how would I ever know to click on that?" she gripes.

I peer down at her, my mouth a sarcastic tight line.

"I suspect that this was probably covered in one of those slideshows you slept through."

Her gaze shifts to me, her expression matching mine, though her tight-lined mouth due less to sarcasm and more to aggravation.

"Maybe I'm tired because I have to drive all over the Midwest going to baseball games," she says, her eyes blinking rapidly the moment the words escape her.

"Wow." My brow flirts with my hairline as I hold her gaze. She clears her throat and looks at the screen again.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," she says. Her eyes flit to me once more, briefly. "Really. I'm sorry."

I don't know how to respond, so I shift my body to get more comfortable and to turn the screen more in her direction while I click around a few options and clear the duplicate entries in her account.

"And that should always show zero when it's right," I say, hovering the cursor over the two total sums.

She slaps her hands to her cheeks, dragging the bottoms of her eyes down as her mouth hangs open.

"You fixed it in like four minutes."

"More like ten, but . . . yeah." I click save and move the computer to her bed.

I lie down and prop my head on an elbow as she sits and takes over to turn in her assignment remotely. The light music in the background is a familiar mix. It's one she made freshman year, all RB blending old and new. It's smooth.

"I always liked this one," I say, leaning my head toward the Bose speaker on her dresser.

She snaps her laptop shut and runs her palms over the surface, seemingly relieved to have that assignment done. She grins at me, always proud of her work. She should be.

"Yeah? I should send you the link. This one's good for stress." She leans to the side to set her laptop on the night table, trading it out for her phone. A few seconds later I feel mine buzz in my pocket.

"There. Sent."

"Thanks," I say, smiling on one side of my mouth.

She sees right through me. I bet Nikki sensed there was more to my stress long before I told her about my parents. She's always so tuned in, usually more than I am to myself. I should try harder to give her the same kind of support. Maybe I'm a shitty friend.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away," I say, my racing thoughts finding their way out of my mouth. She tosses her phone on the bed and shifts to lie opposite me, propping her head up the same.

"Hmm? Oh, about your parents? I understand?—"

"Seriously, Nik," I interrupt, circling her wrist with my other hand. She takes in a sharp breath, so I run my thumb along her skin. I meant that to be tender.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just want you to know that I appreciate how you're always there for me. And I'm sorry I didn't trust that."

Her gaze locks on mine and her nostrils flex with a breath.

"Mmm hmm," she says with a tiny nod.

I squeeze her wrist and let go, instantly calculating how thin her wrist feels in my grip, how smooth her skin is, how hard her pulse beats, and how still she is. Nikki plays tough, but she's also breakable. I have to protect her.

"It means a lot to me," I say, and her eyes draw in, her brow puzzling.

"Alex, were you afraid I'd judge you? Because of your dad? It's me. It's . . . us."

I flatten my arm on her mattress and lower my head to my bicep as I shrug.

"Not really. But if I'm being honest . . . I'm pretty embarrassed by him." Mortified, really. Odell is a small town, and what he did won't be a secret for much longer, no matter how hard my mom tries to keep it one. And then people will talk, and going home won't feel like going home anymore.

"I understand. But he's not you." Nikki reaches for me this time, her palm curving over my shoulder. For the first time, maybe ever, I'm singularly focused on the way her hand feels on my skin. Her palm is cool, but not cold. The hard edge of her thumbnail tickles along my shoulder. It's somehow sharp yet soft. Her focus is on her touch, but mine is on her eyes. I've always known they're this strange mix of green and brown, but I've never really appreciated how unique they are. Suddenly, her gaze shifts, and she catches me. Her hand freezes, then balls into a fist that she tucks against her chest as it slips away from my arm .

"Thank you for coming to my games. All of them, I mean. I should say that more." I should tell her she doesn't have to and relieve her of the pressure, but I want her there. When my game is off, knowing she's there rooting for me somehow makes me fight through the doubt.

"I wouldn't miss them for the world," she says.

We lie in quiet for several seconds, eyes locked. It's strange how it's both easy and uncomfortable at the same time.

"I should go," I finally let out.

"You can stay. If . . . if you're tired, I mean. Just get up early." Her shoulder quirks up a tick along with one side of her mouth. I've slept in the same bed with her, this bed even, so many times—watching a movie, studying for finals, listening while she works on a mix—but this tightness in my chest feels like a warning. If I stay here, those thoughts might get messy, and I might do something stupid.

"I should go," I repeat, giving her a soft smile as I sit up and lean toward her to kiss the side of her head. My lips tingle despite having kissed her like that—exactly like that—a week ago.

Her lopsided smile is locked in place as I stand, but her eyes aren't smiling. She knows I need to leave. To protect us.

I make my way to her door and crack it open before pausing and looking back. She's still lying in the same position, expression frozen in time.

"Hey, live batting practice tomorrow. Brayden's throwing a session. Maybe to me, who knows. You coming? You can cheer for both of us, I mean. Me a little louder, of course."

Her mouth curves a tiny bit more.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

She blinks slowly, and for a flash of a second I play out a world where I drop the door shut again and rush to the bed, caging her under my body and between my arms. I clear it away immediately. I open the door wider instead, and glance at her over my shoulder as I leave.

"Good night, Nik."

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