Page 92 of Chasing Headlines
Fendleman rose to his full height and squared his shoulders. “Get your shit together,Coop. You're on the fence right now. And whether I think you can play? Matters. Lose the ‘tude or pack up.”
“Sack up or pack up.” Dereks grabbed his cup and tugged on it.
“Tell Mrs. Coop thanks, though. Didn't mean any disrespect, there, man.” Kins held out a hand.
I stared at it.
He laughed. “She'll be a great wife.” Shook my hand then saluted. “See ya.” As he headed toward the field, he whooped. “Mrs. Coop saved the day!”
Fuck me.
Jimenez straddled the bench. “I hope she'll take you. The way you make friends, I'll never marry you off.”
“Fuck you, too.”
“What, or you'll call me a carre verde? We're gonna have to work on your street cred, 'mano, that was.” He snickered. “So terrible.”
I shrugged. “Fendleman didn't know.”
“That you called him a green dick?” He huffed. “Car-eh-ver-gah. Is a dickhead. Mamagüevo is a cocksucker. Pendejo?—”
“Means asshole.” I grabbed my glove and shut my locker.
“Good job.”
“Google translate just returns your picture.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, you're funny. Got some jokes.” He gave me a wry smile. “Don't think she's up for being Mrs. Coop. Might want to work on that.”
I groaned. Everything about that sounded like a bad fucking idea.
“And your attitude. And your hitting. Running. Fielding's been pretty shit lately, too.”
I flipped him off. “Maybe carre verde's right. Hope your dick turns green and falls off.”
He shook his head. “It's cause I care, 'mano. Remember that.” He slapped me on the back and then took off at a jog.
I tucked my glove under my arm and lifted my cap. My hand shook as I pulled it over my head. The November sun still glared in the sky and I retreated into the shade, sagging against the side of the building.What a pain.
My body, my eyelids, everything felt heavy. I'd barely slept. Hadn't had much to eat. I couldn't afford another bad practice, but this had all the makings of one.How much longer?I leaned my head back against the wall next to the locker room door.I can't keep this up.
I can't . . . keep up.
I closed my eyes. And her face swam in the space between my brain and my eyelids.
She lowered her head. “That's really your opinion of me?”
I blew out a breath. The overhang came into focus as I stared straight ahead.She didn't stay for practice. That has to be a first.My hand found the opening in my glove and slid inside. She hadn't missed a day. Not one. Even before school started.
“I don't know how she's going to take it, but you owe her one.”
I wonder what Coach said.I looked down at my glove. Traced the lines of wear in the leather. Ran my fingers over the faded logo in the corner. I'd had it for so long . . .
“She had your back, 'mano.”
The scent of grass mixed with the smell of my leather glove. The November weather had finally cooled, and the mild breeze stirred the air and soothed over my skin.
“You should at least thank her.”