Striking Out with the Star Pitcher by Maggie Dallen

Author:Maggie Dallen [Dallen, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Maggie Dallen

9

Andrew

* * *

“Where are you going tonight, Andy?” my mom asked as I headed out the door.

“Studying with a friend,” I said.

Her response was to full-on beam at me. Her face was glowing with the force of her smile. “A friend?”

Ugh. Here we go. “Don’t get too excited, Ma,” I said. “We just have some classes together.”

She pressed her lips together but the resulting smile was beyond patronizing. “That’s so sweet.”

Sweet. Ugh.

Well, at least she hadn’t asked if it was a girl—

“Is this a girlfriend?” Her hope was almost too much to bear. It seemed to bother my mom more than anyone else that I hadn’t made any good friends since we’d moved, let alone had a serious girlfriend.

I didn’t care—I had plenty of buddies on the team and in the hallways, and girls? I’d never had an issue there either. No girlfriends, maybe, but I wasn’t here to make deep and meaningful connections, just get through high school and into college.

And then…?

I shook off the nagging voice that wondered what life would look like when I was done with the obvious—baseball, high school, and college. I’d long since realized those questions didn’t even bear considering. Who knew what life would throw at me before then?

“See ya, Ma,” I said, already closing the door behind me without bothering to answer.

It was for her own good. I didn’t want to give her false hope. I might have developed a soft spot for Simone, but it didn’t mean anything. I just didn’t like seeing a good girl get hurt.

She might not have been my responsibility, but what kind of guy would I have been if I sat back and let a naive, sheltered young thing get used up and spit out by a notorious player?

Not the kind of guy my father would have been proud of, that was for sure.

I was just doing the right thing, that was all.

I told myself that as I drove to her house, and again as I knocked on her door.

“You must be Andrew.” An older man who must have been her father answered the door and gestured for me to enter. Judging by the big grin on his face, he was as pleased to see me as my mother was to learn I was going over to a friend’s.

He had Simone’s dark hair and eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Where she was all introverted and walked the halls like she was trying to hide, her father took up all the space around him, talking loudly and familiarly as he led me down the narrow hall to a small living area with a beaten up couch and more DVDs than I’ve ever seen in my life.

“You know, Sims didn’t think you were really coming,” he said.

I just barely registered what he’d said because my brain had latched onto that nickname and wouldn’t let go. Sims. It was cute. Not super girlie and totally unique.

Kind of like Simone.

I stopped short just as he turned to face me.

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