Abandoned By Love by Aleya Michelle

Author:Aleya Michelle [Michelle, Aleya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Aleya Michelle Publishing
Published: 2019-01-12T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Skipping Baseball

JAXON

Present

I’m letting down the team, but I still can’t face anyone. Of course, there’s the fact that Emily is gone, but also Scotty driving drunk that night. I gave him a piece of my mind once, and the other boys held me back. Otherwise, I would have punched him in the face. We should have just got a goddamn cab, but would that have changed things? Would Emily be here right now with me?

Maybe not, but there’s a chance things could have stayed amazing. Our perfect little bubble and the normality of school, baseball, gymnastics, and just the two of us would have remained the same.

Not shattered the way it is now.

Well, sure, it’s not Coach’s fault or the team, but I’m not in the mood. I hate myself for letting them down because we need to practice as a team. I’ve played the game long enough to know we gotta get the game plays perfect, but right now, I don’t care. In six years, I’ve never let Coach down, and now I am letting him down massively. Being lazy and pathetic, I’m useless right now. But how do I drag myself out of this hole?

Sure, I’m missing practice. People get sick and go on vacation. Shit happens.

But apparently now it’s three weeks straight. Whoops, time flies when you are in a dreary, grim jet-black cavity with no prison break in sight.

When I actually showed up for a couple of practices, I was running late from either sleeping or drinking. During practice, I threw shit curveballs, so what was the point. My brain is foggy, clouded over with an abyss of nothing matters, not caring, and hating the world.

My phone rings with Coach’s cell number, but I ignore it for the third time this week. Mom wrote me a note for missing a couple of days, but for the rest I’ve managed to skip, they will call her, and the counselor will get involved. Man, that hurts my head to think about that shit, so I down the beer I have in my hand.

My cell phone dings with a text from Boyd.

Boyd: Jax, man, you gotta come to training tomorrow. Coach is pissed. You wanna be kicked off the team?

Hmm, well, no, I don’t, do I? Does it really matter? Not like it used to. I shake my head, hoping maybe I can uncloud the fog and get my ass into gear.

Me: I’ll be there tomorrow.

I text him back. There, that should shut them up for a while.

The next day, I make the effort and go to two classes, manage to write down a few notes, stare out the window, and slump in my chair, avoiding people and conversations.

Then I go to the gym, taking my time to avoid small talk with the boys before training. I undo my locker and realize I have no clean training gear, so I just wear what I have on. I shrug. Why do we have this stupid rule for practices anyway?

“Sorry, Coach,” I say for the second time this week as I walk into his office.

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