Chapter 24

Iawoke to the sun shining through the pool house skylights. Crew shifted beside me on the sofa, tightening his arms around me and pulling me closer into his chest. "Morning," he murmured.

"Morning."

"I can't think of a better way to wake up on the biggest day of my baseball career."

I smiled. He was totally going to impress the scouts tonight. There was no way he wouldn't.

"Last night was amazing," he said, burying his nose in my hair. "Thanks for taking me to see it."

"Thanks for going with me."

"I'd go just about anywhere with you," he said.

"Oh yeah? Where wouldn't you go?"

"The woman doctor."

"You mean the gynecologist?"

"Yeah. And I wouldn't go to a nail salon."

I laughed. "Is that it?"

He pursed his lips, considering my question. "I think that covers it. I really don't wanna get up, but I've gotta lock in if I'm gonna be my best tonight."

"Don't let me stand in your way," I said, even though I didn't want him to leave yet.

"Two more minutes," he said, holding me tighter.

"Do you want me to make you a sign tonight?"

"A sign would be nice. Or, you could wear my away jersey. You'd look good in my number."

"I could do that," I agreed.

"Will you do that when we get back to school, too?" he asked.

"If you plan on seeing me when we get back," I said.

"I guess we'll have to just wait and see," he mused. Feigning anger, I attempted to pull out of his arms, but he held on. "Of course I'm gonna see you."

"So, what should I expect? Lines of girls waiting for you outside of your classes?"

"And, large groups gathered around me at meals. I mean, I can't really help it if they're all just trying to catch a glimpse of greatness."

I rolled my eyes. "You're so dumb."

"Oh yeah?" He pressed kisses all over my face.

I giggled until he stopped.

"We're gonna have a hell of a senior year together. Okay?"

I nodded, hoping he didn't feel like I constantly needed reminders that he wasn't like my father.

He finally released me and rolled off the sofa. He pulled on his clothes from last night. "I'm gonna grab a bagel. You want one?" he asked, tossing me my clothes.

"Sure," I sat up and pulled them on.

He followed me out of the pool house and to the back door. I stepped into the kitchen, stopping short which caused Crew to stop behind me. A woman I'd never met before stood beside my father who sat on a stool.A cold chill rushed up the back of my neck as I looked between them. The woman was younger than my mom and had beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair.

My hands began to tremble and my heart began to race. "What the hell is this?" I asked, my chest tightening with each breath.

"Peyton?" my father said, jumping up from his stool.

"You asshole! How could you bring some whore into our house?!" I spun away, pushing past Crew in the doorway and rushing outside, desperate to catch my breath. Was he fucking serious?

Breathe.

I made it to the beach and dropped to the sand.

Breathe.

Had he been cheating all along?

Breathe.

Had he made me out to be the bad guy for not forgiving him when he'd been unfaithful all along?

"Peyton?" Crew called as he ran out from the path onto the beach. "Are you all right?" He knelt in front of me and grabbed my hands. "Breathe, baby."

I tried. I really did.

"It's not what you think," he said. "That was my mom."

I blinked hard. "What?"

"Back at the house. That was my mom."

Embarrassment washed over me. "What?" I repeated, my breath returning to me.

"Come on." He ticked his head toward the house. "I want you to meet her."

Even though the air returned to my lungs, my eyes widened. "No."

He laughed. "No?"

"I just called your mother a whore. There is no way I'm going back in that house."

"I'll explain why you said that. She's cool. She'll get that it was a big misunderstanding."

I shook my head. "I can't."

"So, you don't want to meet my mom?" he asked amused.

"I do. But I need time."

"How much time?" he asked.

"Until I don't want to die."

He laughed. "Fine. But I really gotta get back to her. I took off before I found out why she's here."

"Please apologize for me."

"Of course." He leaned forward and kissed me. "This is gonna go down as a classic story someday." He climbed to his feet and took off for the house. "If you change your mind," he called.

"I won't," I called.

His laughter followed him until he disappeared on the path.

I fell onto my back and lay there for a long time feeling mortified that my outburst was the first impression his mom would have of me. There was no changing that. It happened.

I texted Gina and informed her of what I'd done. She let me hide out at her house until it was time to get ready for the game. Only then did I head back to my house. I tiptoed inside and silence surrounded me. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I climbed the stairs to the second floor and stopped in my room. I expected Crew to have left his away jersey out for me, but since he hadn't, I opened his top drawer: boxers and socks. I opened his middle: shorts and T-shirts. I opened his bottom: baseball pants and his jerseys. I knew they wore white on the road for away games, so I nabbed that jersey. I wondered why his home jersey was in there. Did he have two?

I dressed in the jersey, cutoffs, and sneakers. If I was gonna re-meet his mom, I wanted to look my best. I curled my hair and swiped on some makeup. My necklace kept catching on the jersey, so I removed it and left it on the dresser, then met Gina out front.

"Look at you," she said when I stepped up to her car.

"Crew wanted me in his jersey."

"That's super cute," she said. "You ready to meet the mother again?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," I said, knowing I'd have to face her sooner or later.

Once we arrived at the field, we made our way to the first base line. "Do you see her?" I asked, my eyes on my feet for fear of dying of embarrassment.

"You said blonde and blue eyes?" Gina whispered.

"Yes."

"I don't see any woman fitting that description," she said.

I lifted my head and looked around. Gina was right. His mom wasn't around.

We opened our chairs and settled in amongst the host families.

"Peyton," Sam called, leaning against the fence down on the field. "Nice shirt."

I smiled.

"Sucks about Crew," he said.

"What about Crew?"

"That he's sick," Sam said as if I should've known.

I stood and moved toward him. "Sick?"

"That's what Coach told us."

My eyes moved to the players behind Sam playing catch. "He's not here?"

"You didn't know?" he asked.

"I haven't seen him since this morning."

"Well, I hope he's okay. We've only got a few games left, and there's no telling if the scouts will be back."

Sam jogged into the outfield while I stood confused. Crew was fine this morning. What happened between then and now that would keep him from playing in front of the scouts who were there for him?

I pulled out my phone and texted him as I walked back to Gina. Where r u?

"What'd Sam say?" she asked.

"Crew's not here," I explained.

"Where is he?"

"I have no idea. Sam said he's sick, but he wasn't at home. I went in his room."

"Do you think he went to his mom's hotel?" Gina asked.

"I just texted him. He hasn't responded."

"Call him," she urged.

I did. But my call went straight to voicemail. "Crew, it's me. Call me when you get this."

"This is weird," Gina said.

I stood up. "Can I have your keys?"

"Where are you gonna go?" she asked as she handed me her keys.

"I need to check the pool house."

She nodded. "Call me when you find him."

I jogged away from the field, passing groups of people walking in the direction of the field. I stepped into the parking lot and hurried to Gina's car, pulling open the door and getting in.

I noticed a piece of paper on the passenger seat. I snatched it up.

I'm sorry.

I flipped the paper over, but nothing was written on the other side. I'd sat in that seat on the way to the field and that paper wasn't there. Had Crew shown up? Had he left this without playing in one of the most important games of his life? But why? And, what was he sorry about?

I was completely lost.

I tried his phone again. When his voicemail picked up, I began to speak. "Crew, it's me again. I'm worried. I'm at your game, and you're obviously not here. Sam said you're sick, but you were fine this morning. Does this have to do with what happened with your mom? Did she want you away from me after the way I treated her? Was it my father? Did he give you trouble?" I looked at the note in my hand. "And what's with this note? I'm really hoping it"s not from you because that would mean you came by the field but didn't stay. What would make you not show up for a game? A game that had scouts wanting to see you play. You're the MVP. Your teammates need you…I need you." My eyes glazed with tears, so I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat.

I started the engine and sped out of the parking lot. I was home in minutes. I hurried around to the patio and rushed to the pool house. I threw open the door only to find it empty. Dammit. I jogged into the house and climbed the stairs to the second floor. I opened my bedroom door. Everything looked like it should.

I looked to his dresser. The one I'd gotten his jersey from an hour before. I grasped the handle on the top drawer. I pulled it open. It was empty. My heartbeat began to hasten. I tried the middle. It was empty. A sinking feeling filled my stomach. I tried the bottom. It was empty. Sweat beaded on my forehead.

Breathe.

I moved into the bathroom and pulled open the shower. His shampoo, body wash, and razor were gone.

Breathe.

I dropped to the floor and buried my face in my knees.

He said I could trust him.

He said he wouldn't hurt me.

So, where the hell was he? And what was he sorry about?