Page 54 of Bad Ball Hitter
I still have to tell him about Jake’s heritage. And even though the man next to me isn’t technically mine, I don’t feel so alone for the first time since Darci’s death.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Drake
I didn’t know what to expect, walking into the apartment with Lila. Earlier, when I texted Miranda to let her know we were on the way, she responded with a quip, “K.”
Is it possible to feel hopeful and dreadful at the same time? I’m caught in the swell of hope for a future with Lila, yet the dread of hurting Miranda gnaws at me. The two emotions twist together, making it hard to breathe. The lavender-scented candle burning in the kitchen does little to calm the turmoil inside me.
Miranda sits at the kitchen table, shuffling a deck of cards. Not just any cards. These look like the ones from the Truth or Lie game.
Ah, shit. They are.
Her eyes flash with cold resolve as they meet mine. “Why don’t we play a game?” she says, her voice deceptively light.
“I think we need to talk,” I say. Lila places her purse on the floor beside the couch, eyes wide, scanning the room as if searching for an escape route. Thank God Jake stayed overnight at his friend’s house. He didn’t need to be a part of this bombardment.
“No. I want to play the Truth or Lie game.” She gestures for us to sit, but I remain in my spot, jaw clenching.
“We really need to talk.” I try again, checking the time, and wince. I can still make it an hour before the first pitch if I leave now. “Actually, I need to get going?—”
“Sit! Both of you.” The harshness in her tone leaves no room for argument. Lila shoots me a quizzical glance before pulling up a chair across from Miranda. I take the one at the end. Once we’re seated, Miranda’s mouth curves into a half-smirk. “This is how the game is played. You’re going to draw a card while I ask a question. Answer accordingly. If it’s a truth card, you must tell the truth. If it’s a lie, well, you get the picture. If the person not answering wants to pipe in with a question, they may do so after the one asking goes. Understand?”
I sit up taller, not liking the direction of this little game. What I want to do is get our breakup over with. This game seems like a cruel, vengeful act that will cause hurt feelings—the one thing I wanted to avoid from the beginning. My eyes dart to the window, the afternoon sun mocking me. My time is running short.
“All right, Miranda,” I clear my throat, trying to muster a casual tone. “Let’s play.”
I pick up a card from the top of the deck and flip it over. Much to my dismay, it’s a truth card. Miranda’s smile widens, her eyes glinting in a dangerous way that I can’t quite decipher. The air feels heavy, pressing down on my shoulders.
“Drake,” she starts, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms, “Do you still have feelings for Lila?”
My heart skips a beat as Lila quickly shifts her gaze from Miranda to me. Her wide eyes fill with shock, yet they sparkle with something else—hope, maybe? I swallow hard, feeling the dryness in my throat. Miranda’s stare is ice-cold, boring into my soul.
She’s baiting me into exposing my true feelings for Lila in front of them both. And given that I have promised to tell the truth...
“Yes, I still have feelings for Lila,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. Miranda’s eyes, however, are on Lila, narrowing with a mix of hurt and disdain. The walls feel like they’re closing in, the tension thick enough to choke on. I can almost hear my heartbeat, loud and erratic.
Following my confession, the room falls into an uncomfortable silence. The ticking of the wall clock is loud and clear as each second drags for an eternity. Miranda’s smile falters while Lila simply stares at me, her expression unreadable.
“Your turn, Lila,” Miranda finally speaks up, breaking the silence. She pushes the deck towards Lila as if nothing has happened, but the tension in the air tells a different story.
I watch Lila pick up a card nervously and flip it over—another truth card. Maybe I should’ve shuffled the cards. I have a feeling Miranda stacked them against us. However, Miranda interjects before she has time to speak, “How long were you sleeping with my boyfriend?”
“I wasn’t.” Lila gasps. “I’m not.” Her hands tremble slightly as she places the card back on the table, her knuckles white from the grip.
Miranda’s gaze hardens, but she seems content with the answer. She picks up a card and turns it over. Lo-and-behold, it’s a truth card.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, my voice harsher than intended, but this is pure bullshit—some revenge plot cooked in her mind.
“I want answers. You lied about your past relationship with her. I want the truth.”
“I didn’t lie?—”
“By omission.” She points to the deck of cards. “Go.”
My jaw clenches, but I comply. I lay the truth card on the table and glare.
“What do you love most about my body?”