Read Full Count (The Catcher Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Bri Izzo
I can
’
t believe that Chase just hauled off
and punched Skyler like that. Actually, I just don
’
t want
to believe it; I can definitely see him doing that, especially to Skyler. But
it
’
s totally unacceptable. To top it off, I overheard
Jackie, our short stop, talking to Laurie before the game about how she and
Chase finally hooked up last week after months of hanging out. She has no idea
that there is anything between me and him apparently. It
’
s
probably why my head wasn
’
t really in the softball game;
it was trying to figure out Chase
’
s game he
’
s
playing with me. I decide to text him first before riding my bike all the way
to his house after the game and having him not be there.
Me:
Hey, you busy?
Chase Morgan:
We can
’
t
talk anymore.
Me:
Why? Because you
’
re
hooking up with one of my teammates or because you punched Skyler?
Chase Morgan:
Because of that. You
’
re
so dramatic.
Me:
I
’
m the dramatic
one? Ha okay.
Chase Morgan:
Too many people are talking about us. I
don
’
t like people in my business.
Me:
I didn
’
t tell
anyone anything.
Chase Morgan:
Didn
’
t
say that you did. But with you being Alex
’
s
sister, these rumors have spread fast. I don
’
t
want to deal with it.
Me:
You should
’
ve
thought about that before you hooked up with Jackie.
Chase Morgan:
I
’
m
not nor was I ever with you.
Me:
I know.
Chase Morgan:
No, you don
’
t.
You think we
’
ve been together since last
summer, and we haven
’t. I don’
t need people
talking that we
’
ve been together almost a
year and saying I
’
ve been cheating on you.
We weren
’
t together therefore I couldn
’
t have cheated on you.
Me:
Not sure where those rumors started, but I
’
m sorry.
Chase Morgan:
It
’
s
fine. But we can
’
t talk.
He doesn
’
t want to talk to me
anymore, so I don
’
t respond. I sit in my claustrophobic
bedroom and wonder where I went wrong in the past year. My mom hates me so much
she can
’
t even bother to show up to my last home game of
my freshman varsity season; Skyler gets punched in the face after doing nothing
wrong yet there is nothing I can do because we are kind of in limbo with our
friendship; the guy I thought I had something with for almost a whole year just
cyber punched me in the chest with numerous insults to my feelings and
intelligence; I almost have a perfect season pitching until the last game where
I allowed hits and runs and beaned a girl.
Fuck my mom for caring more about her perfect hair
and her wine than her own daughter.
Fuck Chase Morgan for everything he did to me or
Skyler ever. He has no right to hit Skyler in the face, and he has no right to
lead me on like we were something more than friends.
And fuck perfection! I didn
’
t
plan on having a perfect season; I
’
m a freshman on
varsity! I didn
’
t even expect to play, much less be
perfect! But once I established my position with the team, it was expected that
I was the flawless relief pitcher. When I was put in the starting position, I
shouldn
’
t have predicted continual perfection. Just when
anyone puts pressure on themselves to be perfect, the perfection is over.
Because perfection doesn
’
t exist. Everyone has flaws and
mistakes and shit; even if someone can be perfect for a while, it doesn
’
t last forever.
I just need an internal pep talk before I blame
everything on myself and completely break down. It happens anyways though. The
pep talk is in my head while my tears pour on the outside. I haven
’
t cried in what feels like forever; it
’
s
just never anything I feel like is worth doing. Last time I remember crying was
when I was tipsy in my kitchen with Tiff, Chase, and Parker and Skyler brought
Makenna to the cabin. That moment and this current one feel justified enough to
let my emotions explode through tears.
Then a knock sounds on my bedroom door, and I snap my
head up. Looking around my room first, I wipe the tears off my cheeks and take
a deep breath to get rid of my self-pitying thoughts.
“Oh… hey,” I greet Skyler out of surprise. He
’
s not who I expected to be on the other side of that door, not
that I
’
m really expecting anyone. He
’
s
standing in the dark hallway in his disheveled uniform like he has just
finished playing the state championship. “What
’
s up?
” I sniffle and hope he doesn
’
t think
it
’
s anything more than allergies.
“I was bringing your water bottle that you left in my
Jeep, and I thought you might need some more bandages for your arm, and then I
heard you crying up here,” he babbles. Although his words don
’
t
make much sense together, I can read his eyes perfectly: he
’
s
worried about me. The scrape on his face is starting to clot so the blood isn
’
t dripping down anymore, but it
’
s like he
doesn
’
t even notice it.
“Oh… I
’
m fine. Just an emotional
day,” I try to brush it off. But he knows me better than that. He
’
s
always known me better than anyone else.
“That
’
s not like you,” he points
out. “What else happened today?”
“It really doesn
’
t make sense to
me why Chase would punch you when he… when he-” I try to reason it out loud,
but I can
’
t. I was going to tell Skyler that Chase broke
up with me… but he didn
’
t. Because we were never really
together so that he
could
break up with me. He played me just like
Skyler said he would months ago.
“When he what? What did he do?” Sky fumes. I
’
m kind of afraid to tell him what Chase did because I
’
m worried that Skyler might kill him, like actually kill him,
and then go to jail.
“We
’
re just not talking anymore,”
I reroute the conversation. No need for anyone to get arrested.
“Why? Because he hooked up with Allie?” he asks me.
My breath catches, and I feel like a fish who took
the bait and is being dragged around by a sharp hook that digs deeper and deeper
into me while being smashed into rocks that I can
’
t avoid.
Allie is one of the most popular cheerleaders at school. She may only be a
sophomore, but everyone at school knows her or knows about her. But it doesn
’
t matter that she
’
s a slut; I
’
m not mad at her. I
’
m mad at myself for
believing that Chase was a decent guy. After hearing he was with Jackie
and
Allie
while I thought he was supposedly with me, I want to throw up.
“
Buzz?
” Skyler questions my
coherence when I don
’
t respond to him.
“He… are you… Allie, too?” I stutter as I push past
him and run down the hallway towards the bathroom. I lift the toilet seat and
throw up mostly orange Gatorade for a solid two minutes. All I think about is
everything sweet that Chase has ever said to me. He told me he loved me once
when he was drunk and called me in the middle of the night, and I told him not
to say it unless he meant it. He said it again, and I knew he was lying, but I
believed him anyways even though I never said it back. It makes it hurt so much
more, to be so fooled into thinking something that I know is a blatant lie.
“
Buzz, I
’
m
sorry. I didn
’
t mean to-” Skyler starts apologizing but is
interrupted from someone in the hallway.
“Bulimia looks good on you, Bianca,” my mom snickers,
pointing her index finger at me.
I roll my eyes as I feel more gurgling in my stomach.
My mom continues on her way to her bedroom, and Skyler jumps up to follow her
before I grab his wrist to pull him back.
“Please stay with me,” I beg. There
’
s
nothing worse than puking alone. As a child, when I was sick I did it numerous
times. Sometimes Rex or Baylee or my dad would wake up and come hold my hair
back, but other times I had to tie it back in between puking sprees. Then I
would sleep on the floor next to the toilet in case I needed to puke more
during the night.
“
I won
’
t
let her fucking say that to you,” Skyler argues, his eyes expressing his severe
anger towards her. I could tell at the game he was just as irritated that she
didn
’
t show up for it, but him yelling at her will do
nothing to improve my situation.
“Then yell at her later,” I suggest. I squeeze his
wrist as I throw up again, my stomach tightening and causing me to choke. I
breathe heavily over the toilet as I pray for it to be over. Skyler breaks away
from my hold to open up the vanity cabinet and offer me mouthwash.
After taking it and swishing it around in my mouth, I
say, “
You knew.
”
I don’
t ask him. I
tell him as I stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It
’
s
somehow easier than looking directly into his eyes.
“Buzz, yes. I knew, but-” he begins, but I don
’
t let him finish.
“You knew, and you didn
’
t tell me,
” I state, twirling around to face him. He looks like
he might take a turn throwing up, but I ignore it.
“I
’
m sorry,” he declares, trying
to reach for my hand.
Stepping back from him, I shout, “No! You knew he
actually did something to hurt me! How could you not tell me?”
“I only found out two days ago, and I was not about
to let it throw off your game. And
I
didn
’
t want to
hurt you,” he says the last part softly. His eyes are lighter than usual, like
they
’
re expressing his true guilt and sorrow. It sucks to
be mad at him when he looks at me like this.
“Well you did,” I tell him. “Once a coach, always a
coach, I guess, huh? And I knew before the game; that
’
s
why I played so fucking terrible.”
As I brush past him to surrender to my bedroom again,
he pleads, “
Damn it, B, don
’
t do
this. I
’
m sorry!”
Tonight I
’
m going to sit in my
room and cry. My phone is constantly buzzing with notifications all night, but
I ignore everyone. I just want one night to myself to let everything off my
chest so that I can move on from it all. I promise myself I won
’
t
cry about the same things ever again, so one night will suffice in letting it
go.
I cry myself to sleep, and when I wake up early the
next morning I examine my notifications from the day before. Text messages from
Cara, Laurie, and Tiffany are cheerful at first, but when they didn
’
t get
any responses, their words grow
concerned. Later in the night I receive a message from Benny congratulating me
on a fantastic game and expressing his concern for me, that he heard what
happened. I
’
m surprised that Skyler hasn
’
t
texted me, until I open my bedroom door to go to the bathroom and see him
looking as uncomfortable as hell all curled up in my entryway. Obviously he
stayed the night here without me knowing, and I don
’
t know
what to think. He
’
s clearly worried about me, but he
should
’
ve thought about that before he kept that crucial
information to himself. It
is
cute that he slept here and guarded my
door so I wouldn
’
t leave and do something crazy though.
For the rest of the weekend I stay in my room and
sulk. It
’
s not my idea of a good time, but socializing
sounds worse. I prefer to wallow in my own self-pity rather than anyone else
’
s. Skyler knocks on my door before he leaves and tells me
through the door if I need anything to call him, and while I take his offer to
heart, I know I won
’
t take him up on it. There
’
s nothing he or anyone else can do. I just need to get over it
all, and I need to do it alone. I guess I need more than one night to move on.