Left Field Love
: Chapter 14

I’ve spent years judging the girls who fall over themselves to talk to Caleb Winters. And yet here I am, anxiously scanning the halls for a head of dark hair.

I glance to the right again, but there’s still no sign of him. Annoyed with myself, I focus on my locker, transferring the books for my first three periods into my backpack. When I turn around, I spot Caleb standing at his locker, talking to Colt.

Shouldering my backpack, I shut my locker and head his way.

“Hey, guys.”

They break off mid-conversation.

“I’ll see you later, man,” Colt says. After a nod to me, he continues down the hall.

I take a step closer, fiddling with the strap of my backpack nervously. I’m already second-guessing this. Despite the many things that have changed between me and Caleb, our interactions at school really haven’t. From the outside looking in, you wouldn’t think he ate dinner at my house last night.

“What’s up?” Caleb asks, grabbing a textbook and then shutting his locker door.

“I was, uh…” I take a deep breath. “Did you read the article?”

“What article?” Caleb asks, completely straight-faced.

“So, you hated it?”

“Lennon!” Ryan approaches, smiling widely.

“What is it, Ryan?” I ask impatiently. My irritation only grows when I realize what he’s holding.

Ryan glances between me and the copy of the school paper. “Have you seen this, Winters?”

“Yeah.”

Ryan’s attention turns back to me. “If you’re taking over the sports section, I know some other athletes who’d be interested in a feature.”

The bell rings, saving me from answering.

“See you guys later,” I say, then rush off.

Cassie is literally bouncing in her seat when I enter the classroom, a copy of the school paper sitting on the desk in front of her. Surprisingly, I realize most of my classmates already have copies as well. That’s definitely a first.

I’d be able to enjoy the interest more, if I had any idea how Caleb feels about it. Considering he was the one who pressured me into writing the article, his lack of reaction feels especially unfair.

“Nice article, Lennon,” Harper Kelly comments as I pass her.

“Uh, thanks,” I respond.

I sink down in my usual seat next to Cassie just as the announcements start. Cassie doesn’t pay Principal Owens’s voice any attention.

“Oh. My. God,” she tells me, leaning across the aisle so she’s closer to me. “I can’t believe you wrote this, Lennon!” She shakes the paper in my face.

“In a good way or a bad way?” I whisper.

“Good! I mean, ‘there’s a reason that every resident of Landry, Kentucky knows the name—’”

“I know what it says, Cassie.”

She laughs. “Right. Yeah. I guess you would.”

It turns out maybe Andrew wasn’t insanely optimistic about the number of copies. All day, I keep passing peers clutching copies of the paper.

Caleb shows up at dusk, right as I’m finishing in the barn. I walk out as he’s climbing out of his truck, running a hand through my hair to catch any stray hay.

“I’m mad at you,” I tell him.

He shuts the door and walks to the front of the truck, leaning against the hood and crossing his arms. “That’s a nice change.”

I roll my eyes. I haven’t been mad—genuinely mad—at him in weeks, and he knows it. With a grin, he shoves away from the truck and walks toward me, eating up the distance between us in a few quick strides.

“Why are you mad at me?”

“Because the article was your idea! You talked Andrew into it, and if I hadn’t gone along then I wouldn’t be able to…” My voice trails as I remember I haven’t mentioned my fall plans to Caleb. “Do you have any idea how long I spent writing that? And then nothing from you.”

“I loved it, Lennon.” All of a sudden, Caleb’s voice is very serious.

“You-you did?”

“Yeah. Wanna know what my favorite thing about the article was?”

He’s closer now, near enough I can see his eyes beneath the brim of his ballcap. He smells like grass and sweat, and I realize he came here straight from his game.

“What?” I whisper.

“You wrote it.”

“I’m going on the senior trip.” I blurt the words as a distraction. For me, from Caleb. Because I need the reminder that high school is close to ending. That we are close to ending.

“Really? I thought you said…”

“Gramps is basically shoving me on the bus. He really wants me to go. Be normal, you know?”

“Maybe he’s trying to get used to the idea of you being gone next year.”

This is the closest we’ve come to discussing college. And this is when I should tell Caleb the truth: that I won’t be leaving Landry this fall.

That those big, exciting things I wrote are waiting for him aren’t ones I’ll share in. That this uncertain, fragile feeling between us has a set expiration date. Something I once imagined him mocking me for somehow became something it seems like he should know.

But I don’t want to tell him. He’s become an escape, a way I can ignore all the messy parts of my life and feel like a normal seventeen-year-old with a crush on a cute boy.

Once I tell him, I know things will be different. Everything between us will change. And I’m not ready for it to.

We’re surrounded by a bubble that’s bound to pop. I can’t forget that. Being left behind is bad enough without a broken heart.

So I fist the polyester material of his jersey and pull him toward me in a kiss instead of saying anything.