Page 7 of Stealing Summer
“But wait, there’s more,” Parker said, holding up a hand. “You know this means we’ll be on the same team as Reese.”
Boston froze, eyebrows drawn together. “Shit. Reese Carrington.”
Parker nodded. “One and only.”
“Of course,” Boston breathed. He raked a hand through his windswept hair, and I could see the competitive tension in his shoulders.
Reese Carrington was Boston’s biggest rival. They had been on opposing teams every summer, cross-town rival teams. They were constantly compared by parents and coaches, though they were much different players with different positions. Boston was a shortstop and Reese, a pitcher who had expensive equipment and a cocky attitude to match his skills, which riled up Boston’s competitive streak to no end.
It was a big deal when Boston stepped up to bat against Reese on the pitcher's mound. Reese and his team were notorious for their trash-talking, and allowing them to win was not an option. Two big fish in one small pond sounded like a recipe for disaster. But the potential outcomes for Parker and Boston outweighed all else.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked Boston gently. “Your teammates now. You can’t just avoid him all summer.”
Boston’s eyes flashed with determination. “I guess I’ll have to focus on the game. If he still has an issue with me when we’re on the same team, then that’s on him.”
I knew that look. This summer just got a lot more interesting.
I laid back and soaked up the bright sun as the two of them talked excitedly about the opportunity. This was no ordinary team—only the wealthiest families in town could afford for their sons to play on this elite summer squad, and I wasn’t exactly sure how their college coach managed to get Boston and Parker on the team.
The next evening, we were summoned for our first Blue Devils event.
"Chandler! Over here!" My mom’s voice stood out through the chatter, pulling my gaze to the left where my parents stood in excitement.
"Mom! Dad!" I called out, my eyes lit up as I spotted them standing next to a large sign that read 'Welcome Blue Devils Family!' in bold, friendly letters. The sign, adorned with blue and white balloons, stood tall, inviting us all to celebrate the shared passion that had brought many of us to this lakeside paradise.
My parents had made the drive from Stillwater, wearing the Blue Devils colors, looking every bit the proud supporters they were.
"Look at you three!" my mother exclaimed, her embrace encompassing both Parker and me before she turned to Boston, who had become an honorary member of our family. "And Boston, you've grown even taller if that's possible!"
Her words caused a sheepish smile to spread across his face. "Thanks, Mrs. H. It's good to see you," Boston responded warmly.
"We’re so proud of you boys," my dad said, his voice rich with emotion as he clapped Parker and Boston on the back. "We can’t wait to watch you this summer."
A large white tent was set up just outside the Blue Devils clubhouse. Under its billowing canopy were tables draped in sky-blue cloths, each with centerpieces showing the team’s colors. The food stations offered everything from artisanal cheeses to tenderly grilled meats.
“Definitely not a backyard barbecue,” I nudged Parker, my gaze roaming across the crowd.
“Grabbing a drink, then heading to the buffet,” Dad yelled over his shoulder, motioning towards a server who was offering glasses of sparkling champagne.
“Hey, Mom, I’ll be right back,” I said, gently tapping her on the arm. “I want to use the bathroom and check out the clubhouse.”
“Alright, darling.” She offered a soft smile.
The door to the clubhouse gave a reluctant creak as I nudged it open, slipping inside, cautiously scanning the area to see if anyone was around. The room was still and silent. The walls were lined with gleaming trophies. I had known about the Blue Devils, but I never thought I’d be cheering them on.
My gaze drifted over the collection, pausing on a particularly impressive trophy that looked different from the others. It was a monument to breaking some sort of no-hitter record. The name etched onto the metal plaque beneath it caught my eye: Reese Carrington. I couldn’t help but let my fingers trace the cold, embossed letters.
A smooth, calm voice broke through the silence. “You couldn’t pay me to put that giant ass trophy on my wall.”
Startled, I spun around—a gasp escaped my lips. Leaning against the dimly lit wall was someone who took my breath away—his posture was effortless and confident. A shiny pendant hung around his neck that caught my attention for a moment before I took him in. He was the kind of handsome that nearly rendered me speechless. It wasn’t just his striking appearance, but it was those bright green eyes that were a stark contrast to his dark features. They sparkled with a mischievous glint that was both alluring and intimidating, making it almost unbearable to tear my gaze away.
“I agree,” I managed, trying to keep my voice level, despite the way his eyes seemed to make me feel. “Anything associated with the name Reese Carrington seems to be... overcompensated.”
“Overcompensated?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow as amusement flickered across his face.
“Definitely. I’ve heard his ego needs its own private island,” I shrugged, mostly just trying to make conversation.
“Sounds like you’re not a fan,” he quipped, crossing his arms over his chest, and the motion drew attention to the way his shirt stretched across his well-defined muscles.