Left Field Love
: Chapter 12

It feels like I’ve only just climbed into bed when my phone vibrates from its spot on the three-legged stool I keep to the right of my pillow for the sole purpose of making sure I hear my alarm in the morning.

I fumble my fingers across the slab of oak for my phone, unwilling to open my eyes just yet. Once I convince my eyelids to open, I have to blink at the phone screen about a dozen times to make sure I’m not misreading the text I just received.

Caleb:Baseball field. 1 p.m.

It’s 5:15 in the morning. My alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. And Caleb is texting me? About playing baseball? What is he even doing up at this hour?

There’s no way I’m falling back asleep now. With a long sigh, I abandon the warm covers to get dressed. I only had fifteen minutes of sleep left, anyway.

I’ve just pulled on my usual fleece when my phone buzzes. It’s from Caleb again. A series of obnoxious question marks.

Lennon:Fine.

I send just the single word, biting back some of the snarkier ones I wouldn’t mind adding. The main reason I hold back is because he’s doing me a favor. Caleb’s my best hope that I won’t have to spend gym class on Monday listening to overdone sighs behind me as I repeatedly miss hitting the ball.

There’s a whisper of warmth in the air when I step out onto the front porch; the first I’ve felt in months. The barest hint of color is edging across the brightening horizon, silhouetting the barn and the broad oaks that surround it in a pastel hue.

Landry doesn’t look so bad right now. This image? Spread before me like one of the oil paintings that line the hallways of Caleb’s family’s estate? It kindles a warmth that sits in the center of my chest.

Thanks to Caleb’s text, I’m running ahead of schedule, and I don’t have the constraint of school since it’s a Sunday. I head into the stallion barn first to tack up Geiger.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m appreciating the sunrise as a streak of color from my perch atop his broad back. The world flashes by in a series of slowly brightening hues as we circle the practice track again and again. My thighs are burning by the time Geiger is willing to slow his pace. I slide out of the saddle, letting out a quiet oomph when I hit the ground harder than I expected to.

Gramps has already started distributing the mares’ grain by the time I’ve untacked Geiger and fed both him and Gallie.

“Morning, Gramps,” I greet as I enter the tack room.

“Morning, darling,” he responds, giving me a broad smile. “Good ride?”

“Yeah, it was,” I reply.

“You were up early… Everything all right?” As much as Gramps would love for me to become more social, his apprehensive expression suggests he’s realizing that actually happening could come with its own challenges. I wasn’t exactly forthcoming with details about how my trip to the movies went.

“Everything is good.” I rush to assure him. “I just happened to wake up extra early this morning. Yesterday was fine. A bit weird, but fine.”

Gramps nods, looking relieved.

After we finish the chores and I shower, I head into town to meet Cassie. Spending Sunday mornings at Landry’s sole coffee shop has become a weekly tradition ever since the first time she suggested we meet there. I do homework, while Cassie tends to people watch and draw.

She’s already waiting outside when I cross the street. Downtown is livelier than it was yesterday, more people taking advantage of the nicer weather.

Cassie gives me a quick hug of greeting before we head inside the cafe. “Cute fleece,” she teases.

I roll my eyes at her. Cassie is a fashionista. I’ve never seen her wear the same outfit twice. One of the many ways in which we’re complete opposites. “It’s new,” I inform her.

Cassie scrunches her nose in distaste as she surveys the gray fabric I’m wearing. “It looks the exact same as all your other ones.”

I shrug. “It’s a different color.”

Cassie shudders. “Let’s get breakfast. I’m starving.”

We join the long line of people waiting to order. Despite its length, the line moves fairly quickly, and soon we’re ordering.

Cassie decides on a veggie omelet and a latte, while I opt for my usual muffin and a cappuccino. The barista hands Cassie a beeper to alert us when our food is ready. There aren’t many open tables, but we finally replace one close to the front door.

I’m pulling a notebook out of my backpack when the bell above the door clangs, announcing Madison’s arrival. Close behind her are a few other members of the popular crowd, including Ryan James and Colt Adams. No Caleb, and I hate that I look for him first.

Madison makes a point of not looking in my direction. Ryan gives me a subtle nod but doesn’t say anything. But Colt pauses, greeting me with a casual, “Hey, Lennon.”

Madison whips her head around in shock.

“Hi, Colt.” Thankfully, my voice doesn’t betray any of my shock.

Colt nods in acknowledgment and keeps walking, shrugging when Madison whispers something to him that I’m certain is about me.

Cassie is staring at me with both eyebrows raised. “What was that about?”

I take my time pulling my Oceanography textbook out of my backpack. “No clue,” I answer.

It’s not really a lie. Based on Jake’s behavior on the drive home, I was convinced Caleb’s friends were merely tolerating my presence.

Cassie shrugs, pulling out her sketchpad. “I got accepted to Lincoln yesterday.”

“You did? That’s amazing! Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” Her smile is bashful. “I wasn’t sure I would get in.”

“They’re lucky to have you.”

“You didn’t apply early anywhere, right?”

I exhale. “I… I didn’t apply anywhere, actually.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“I’m not going to college. At least not in the fall.”

“Oh. I—I just assumed…” Cassie clearly has no idea what to say, and I don’t blame her.

“My grandfather has some health issues. He can’t manage the farm by himself. And we can’t afford to pay someone.”

“That’s really selfless of you.”

I shrug. “It’s what family does.”

Cassie nods.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s not something I love talking about.”

I love Gramps. I love Matthews Farm. But the closer it approaches, staying in Landry feels an awful lot like being left behind.

“I get it, Lennon. Well, maybe not entirely,” Cassie corrects. “But I understand it. We’re good.”

I give her a weak smile, relieved to see our buzzer light up on the table. We head to the counter to retrieve our food and coffee, effectively abandoning any heavy conversation.

I leave the coffee shop a couple hours later and drive straight to the high school.

There’s no sign of Caleb yet.

I walk out onto the field and take a seat on the grass, tilting my face back and closing my eyes.

It rarely dips below freezing here, but it’s been months since it’s been warm enough I’ve purposefully prolonged my time outside. The rays of sunshine soaking my face feel heavenly. My breathing turns deep and even as my muscles relax.

A car door slams, effectively ending my daydream. I open my eyes and shade them with one hand, watching Caleb walk toward me, carrying a duffel bag I assume must contain baseball equipment. He didn’t forget, and I’m surprised by how happy that makes me.

“Hey, Matthews,” he greets.

“Hey,” I reply, standing and dusting off my jeans.

Caleb drops the bag on the grass next to me and unzips it to reveal a bat and glove on top of a bunch of other sports equipment.

“Here.” He holds out the bat to me, tucks the glove under one arm, then continues to rifle through the bag.

“Thanks,” I reply, taken aback by how brusque he’s being. I walk over to home plate, and Caleb takes his spot on the pitcher’s mound.

“I’m just going to toss a few to start,” he tells me. “So I can figure out what’s messing you up. I wasn’t paying close enough attention during gym.”

“I thought the whole reason you’re doing this is because you had to watch me mess up?” I ask, a bit testily.

It looks like Caleb clenches his jaw, but I’m too far away to tell for certain. He throws the baseball. It’s faster than Mr. Evans’s throws. I instinctually jump back, so it hits the chain link behind me with a loud clang.

“If you don’t swing, I can’t help,” he calls.

“I wasn’t ready,” I shout back, feeling my face warm.

Caleb grabs another baseball. I step closer to the base and lift my arms, prepared to swing. But he doesn’t throw it.

“What are you waiting for?” I finally ask.

“Oh, are you ready to hit it now? I couldn’t tell.” Caleb’s voice is nasty. Mocking.

“Ass,” I mutter. I know he couldn’t have heard what I actually said, but his derisive smile deepens, like he has a pretty good idea.

He finally pitches the ball. I swing this time, but it’s a few seconds too late. The next time I swing too early. After the tenth failed attempt, I start to lose patience.

“Lower your stance,” Caleb coaches. “And straighten your arms a little more.”

I try to follow his instructions, but I still don’t come close to connecting with the ball. With each failed attempt, I grow more annoyed. More embarrassed.

Finally, I drop the bat. “This is a waste of time. I’m sorry.”

Caleb starts walking toward me. “Lennon…”

“It was really nice of you to offer to do this, but I’m hopeless. And I’m sure there are a million other things you’d rather be doing right now, so…”

He’s getting closer and closer. I compensate by stepping back. I retreat until my spine is pressed against the hard ridges of the chain link. Rather than give me space, Caleb follows.

He tosses his baseball glove down, creating a small cloud of dust as it hits the dirt. “I thought you were hopeless, Lennon, for a long time.”

“Well, that’s ru—”

Caleb keeps talking like I never said a word. “But everyone else seems to think you’re just clueless. And so I don’t know what the hell to think now, except that I’m running out of damn time.”

My brow furrows. “What are you—”

Again, he interrupts. “You go on and on about how I have everything handed to me because of my last name. How I’ve never worked for anything and how I can do whatever I want. That my life is perfect.”

I gnaw my bottom lip, because phrased like that, it sounds terrible. “That’s not exactly what I—”

“Stop talking, Lennon. For once, just stop talking and let me say this.”

He’s so close I feel the mint essence from his gum prickle my face as he speaks. Caleb tilts my chin up and forces me to look straight at him. Storm clouds are gathered in his eyes, darkening what’s usually the same shade as the light blue sky behind him. Even if I wanted to say something right now, I’m not sure I could.

“You think I do whatever I want, but you always make excuses when it involves you. If I bring you over to my house or talk to you at a party or invite you to the movies, you never seem to see it for what it is. So, fuck it. You think there are a million other things I’d rather be doing right now? Wrong. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now, Lennon. You think this is a waste of time? It’s going to be the highlight of my day. I’d watch you swing and miss at a baseball all day. I’m doing this to help you. So you can stay or you can go, but either way stop acting like I wound up here on accident, okay?”

I gape at him, stunned, as his hand drops from my face. Unexpected, shocking, life-altering moments have happened to me before. But none of them rendered me frozen and mute, the way this has. My body feels numb; my mind blank.

Caleb closes his eyes, hangs his head, then exhales. “Dammit,” he mutters, before looking up at me again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to unload all that. We can just—”

I finally decide how to react, rising up on my tiptoes and pressing my lips to his. For a split second, we stand like that. Then I’m moving backward, once again leaning against the fence. This time, I don’t even notice the hard metal.

Caleb kisses me hungrily. Eagerly. Like he’s been wanting to do it for a long time. And I realize, following the confession I haven’t fully processed, that he has.

I melt into him, responding in a way I never have with the few other guys I’ve kissed. There’s no second-guessing, or really any thinking at all. Every time my brain starts to catch up to what’s happening, Caleb does something different that overwhelms me all over again. His hands slide under my shirt or his tongue brushes mine.

He tastes like spearmint. His body is warm and solid, caging me against the backstop. Heat spreads through my body like a fever, a reaction that has nothing to do with the spring weather or the sunshine.

We kiss and kiss, until my lips are tingling and my legs feel like jelly.

I pull in deep breaths of air when we separate, glancing down at the dirt instead of meeting Caleb’s gaze straight away. When I do look up, he’s staring at me, lips wet and hair tousled. There’s a tentativeness in his expression, an uncertainty that’s oddly endearing.

“I thought you hated me,” I whisper. “That first day, I was in a dark place. My dad had just died, and it was all people were talking about. Well that, and you. They’d make fun of my dad one minute, then be starstruck over you the next. And I got us lost and blamed it on you, so I figured you’d look down on me like everyone else. Worse, because I’d given you a reason to. Everything after… I never let myself consider that you paid attention to me for any good reason, I guess.”

And before this semester, when we started spending time together outside of school, I’m not sure I’d have believed him. Part of me still thinks this moment isn’t tethered to reality.

“I get it, Lennon. If I could go back, I’d do a lot of things differently.”

My hand rises without me consciously telling it to, my fingers running along the sharp line of his jaw. Caleb looks surprised by the contact, but he doesn’t pull away. His hands, still tucked beneath my shirt, press tighter against my lower back.

Foreign urges course through me. I want to kiss him again. I want to do more than kiss him.

“What now?” I whisper.

He smiles, and it hits me differently. It’s like walking outside after being in a darkroom. Jarring in a welcome way.

“Now, I’m going to kiss you again. And then, I’m going to teach you how to hit a baseball. Okay?”

“Okay.”

His lips meet mine again, warm and electrifying.

I’m surprised—and unsettled—to realize I would happily stand here all day.

And that’s a massive problem. Because everyone knows Caleb Winters is destined for big, impressive things. In places bigger and far more worldly than Landry, Kentucky.

And I’m…not.

I’ll be here, long after he leaves.