Chapter Seven

Dylan

Dylan let his head hang in his hands. “What did I do? What did I do?”

Tristan laughed. “You kissed a gorgeous girl in the middle of the lake at sunset. Why are you acting like you killed a bunny?”

“Because we were fighting…I think. Then we were kissing. Shit, I don’t know.” It was kind of a blur, actually, but he remembered yelling something stupid. He couldn’t remember why, though. Then Lucy was pressed up against him and his brain misfired, and…Dylan groaned. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing.” Tristan punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Opposites attract sometimes.”

“No one is as opposite as I am with this girl.” Dylan sat up, feeling like his nerves had short-circuited. “I met her today. I’ve never, ever in my life kissed a girl I barely know. Not once. There are steps you take first. You get her number. You hang out some. Then, you kiss her.”

“Dude, really? There are times I think you were born a hundred years too late,” Tristan said. “Hell, Alyssa kissed me the day after I met her. It was to make me swing without thinking, but still.”

Like he needed that reminder. “Not helping.”

“Sorry, man.”

The cautious tone hurt Dylan worse. He knew Tristan still felt guilty for ending up with Alyssa when Dylan liked her first, and yeah, it stung, but he wasn’t mad at anyone. Tristan and Alyssa were good together. He wasn’t going to pout over that. And how could he? He’d just planted one on a delicious brunette—he had no room to be upset with anyone.

Dylan sighed. “Okay, whatever. Tomorrow, I’m going to act like nothing happened.”

“No!” Tristan said. “You have to discuss the elephant.”

“But how?” Dylan looked at his friend. “I’m sure she wants to forget it happened, too.”

“Do you really want to forget?” Tristan asked, his look shrewd. “Or are you freaked out because it caught you off guard? We all know how much you hate to move outside the pattern. You have a goal, and you march toward it. That’s what’s wrong—you’re not upset you kissed her. You’re upset it didn’t go according to plan.”

“That’s not true.” But it was, at least a little bit. What had Lucy said? Something about living for now instead of a year from now? The thought scared the hell out of him.

And it excited him, too. If he was completely honest with himself, a little chaos sounded…fun. But chaos led to missed opportunities. He’d have to take this slow.

Tristan was watching him, so Dylan nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, see where we are.”

“Good.” Tristan pushed the boat’s motor up to full speed. “Let’s go home so we can rest up. I swear, those campers wore me out today.”

Dylan pretended to joke along as they drove back, but the look on Lucy’s face when he dove off the boat was the only thing on his mind.

He needed to fix this.

When Dylan came home, his mom took one look at him and pointed wordlessly at the tray of cookies cooling on the stove. How she knew exactly what he needed just by looking at his face, he hadn’t figured out. Mom radar. “Do I look like I need a cookie?”

“You look like you need a dozen.” She smiled fondly. “But you won’t eat more than two.”

“Sugar in, garbage out.” The cookies were really good, though. “Where’s Dad?”

“Dinner in the city. New clients, I think.” Mom stretched and stood. “I’m headed to bed now that you’re home safe.”

“Night.”

Mom waved and headed for her room, their cats—her cats—following behind. Those little bastards ignored everyone else now that his sister was in France on a college exchange program. Without Tori home, the house was always quiet on nights when Dad was out on business. No game on in the living room, no midnight calls to India. His dad’s presence left a hole when he wasn’t around.

Dylan wandered upstairs to his room, not sure what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to think, but a silent house wasn’t distracting enough to make his brain stop. He went through his bedtime routine silently, mulling over what Tristan said. Was he really that inflexible? He didn’t feel like he was. If you wanted something badly enough, you had to have discipline in everything, or anything could knock you off balance. Like kissing a girl on a boat after a shouting match.

He sank into bed and plugged in his phone. Maybe Lucy wouldn’t even drive Otis to camp. Maybe she’d check Otis in while Dylan was busy.

Or maybe she’d show up angry, demanding an explanation.

Dylan wished he was callous enough not to care. There were guys on his team who went through girls like two-ply. Not guys he liked to hang with, though. Sure, he’d gone out with four girls in the last three years, but he hadn’t been an asshole about ending a relationship. He liked girls, a lot, and some of his older sister’s boyfriends had taught him how not to treat a girl.

Maybe that’s why he kept rejecting the idea of a quick summer fling with a wild girl. God, he was so boring. Lucy wasn’t even all that wild…so far as he could tell, anyway.

Tired, and knowing sleep was even more important than diet when it came to performance, he rolled over and pulled the comforter up to his ears. He’d worry about all this crap in the morning.

Clouds hung on the western horizon and the wind blew dust up from the infield as Dylan and Nate checked in their campers. Nate kept looking up at the sky, brow furrowed. “I don’t know, man. We might make it until noon, we might not.”

“We can always take them into the team room and watch film.” Dylan checked in another outfielder and sent him running out to Tristan. “But this stuff is supposed to hold off until two.”

Nate glanced at the clouds. “If you say so. My abuela brought all her plants onto the back porch this morning. I trust her more than a weather app.”

“I would, too,” a girl said. “I trust older people’s intuition.”

Dylan looked up from his roll sheet. Lucy stood next to Otis. Today she had on a denim miniskirt embroidered with unicorns, a white T-shirt with a chicken saying, “Eat more veggies” on it, and a purple headband. She stared defiantly back at him, her hand on Otis’s shoulder. “You ready for camp?”

“Yeah!” Otis reached out to fist bump Dylan. “Ready, Coach?”

“Give me a few more minutes to check people in. You’re…um, you’re early today.” He couldn’t resist glancing up at Lucy, who rolled her eyes in return. “Go run some laps with the guys who are here. I’ll be there to lead stretches in a bit.”

“Great!” Otis took off for the pitchers mound, calling out to new friends from yesterday.

Lucy watched him go. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a while.”

She sounded so sad, Dylan couldn’t help asking, “Everything okay?”

“It’s nothing.” Like the snap of a Venus Fly Trap, Lucy’s guard went up. “I’m going to hang in the stands until he’s done.”

“O-okay.” He wanted to say more, but what? “I’ll, um, I’ll bring him to you.”

She paused, one earbud already in. “That’s not necessary.”

“I know that.” God, was she always this contrary? “I wanted to talk. About…last night.”

“Whatever.” She turned to go, shoulders slumped, and Dylan felt worse than before.

“Last night?” Nate perked up— Dylan had forgotten he was sitting there. “What about last night?”

“Nothing.” Dylan picked up his pen as the next kid hopped out of a minivan. “Nothing at all.”