Dad came with me to practice at Coach’s house. I was in huge trouble for letting my emotions get the best of me. I got the longest speech of my life about how I couldn’t let the opinions of others shake me and make me stoop to their level. While I agreed with Dad, I didn’t agree with the one hundred push-ups he made me do while he yelled at me. My shoulder was worse than ever.

I kept my ballcap low and sunglasses on, trying to hide my puffy eyes. By the fortieth push-up I couldn’t take the pain, and I cried through the final sixty. I felt Zach’s eyes on me while he helped Coach get things set up. My dad walked over to Zach, and Coach and I went out to the mound. I looked at Dane as he walked over to me.

“You look like hell. You okay?” He set his bat down. “What is your dad doing here?” he asked, and we both started stretching.

“I’m fine, and he’s making sure I’m not slacking and letting my anger fuel my passion for the game. He’s teaching me to ‘channel my anger’.”

Coach blew his whistle. “Alright, enough talking. Let’s get to work.” He grabbed a bat and tossed it to Zach. “Let’s see how you do against Coach Zach. He used to be pretty good. Actually went pro for a year after high school.”

I eyed Zach for a second. Why wouldn’t he have told me that?

“What team?” I asked as I stretched my arm.

“The Braves.” Zach didn’t look too thrilled. I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. He scoffed. “And what do you mean used to be?” he asked as he got ready to hit. “I’m still pretty good.”

Dad was watching me closely. Too closely. Everyone got into positions, and I stared at the ball. I was in so much pain, but I couldn’t use my other arm or show the pain I was in because Dad would lose his shit. I took a deep breath and removed my sunglasses, placing them on top of my hat. I clenched my jaw and held my breath as I threw the ball.

Zach missed, making Coach Elliot clear his throat. “You were saying?”

“I’m a little rusty.” Zach hit the plate with his bat then looked at me.

I took a deep breath and held back a scream as I threw the ball again. Sweat was forming on my forehead. Zach had been watching me closely instead of paying attention to the ball. It hit him, and he cursed. Coach Elliot ignored Zach and moved to me.

“You okay?”

“She’s fine. Right, Hailey?” Dad stated as he came over.

I nodded without making eye contact with either of them. Coach moved his hand to my shoulder and squeezed just a little.

“Fuck!” I smacked his hand away. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No. I barely touched you.” He rolled the sleeve of my shirt up and looked at my shoulder closely. “Go with Coach Zach and get some ice for it while I talk to your dad.”

“No, I’m fine. Come on; let’s practice.”

“You might be, but you see Zach’s a big baby and you just hit him pretty hard.”

“Hey!” Zach said defensively.

“Plus, you keep this up, and you won’t be pitching. You’ll throw your arm out before the season even begins.” He looked at Dad. “And that’s not what any of us want, right?”

My dad scoffed. “She’ll be fine. This happened last year, and she worked through it.”

“With pain pills and shots, you mean?” He asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

I looked at Coach. How’d he know? I looked at Dad, curious to hear what he had to say.

“Steroid shots that her doctor and coach approved of,” he said defensively. “Listen, I respect that you are my daughter’s coach, but how we choose to handle this is not really up to you.”

“It is if you want her to be on my team.”

Zach put his hand on Coach’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off. “I don’t let my players play hurt. I care more about them than a damn sport and so should every coach!” he snapped.

“Alright, then she can play for the traveling team with the YMCA.”

My dad looked at me. “Let’s go, Hales.”

“Umm... Well, no, she can’t,” Zach said, stepping in front of Coach before he said anything else.

“And why can’t she play with the traveling team?” Dad asked, staring daggers at Zach.

Coach was fuming. He looked at me apologetically, and I knew he wasn’t mad at me.

I was so embarrassed. “Can we just practice? I’m fine.” Tears filled my eyes. “Please? I’ll pitch with my left hand instead and let my right arm rest.”

Zach looked at Elliot. Coach nodded then handed me the ball. Zach stayed between my dad and Coach until my dad finally walked off.

Coach Elliot sighed. “Sorry. Zach’s usually the ass, not me.” He handed me the ball.

“It’s fine. And I remember some things you taught me before. Just guide me as I pitch.” I looked at the guys on the field. They were all watching me closely. “I’m fine,” I said and gave them a reassuring smile.

He nodded, then started showing me what to do. Zach handed the bat over to Trevor and moved back near my dad.

“I bet you twenty bucks he complains about his wrist later,” Coach teased as he handed the ball to me.

“I hit him pretty hard, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to.”

“He’ll live. He should have been focused. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s actually really good when he’s focused.”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah.” It was my fault he wasn’t.

THE REST OF practice was fine. It wasn’t perfect, but at least I was getting better at using my left hand. I looked at the time and smiled when I saw it was eleven. I locked my bedroom door and climbed out my window. I ran through the woods until I made it to the fence and squeezed my way through. I frowned when I didn’t see Zach at the tree. I sat on the swing and looked up when I heard footsteps. I stood when I saw him and immediately grabbed his hand so I could look at his wrist.

“Sorry I’m late.” He looked at me oddly when I gasped. His wrist was purple. “What are you doing?”

“I’m so sorry!”

He lifted my chin with his other hand. “Baby, I’m okay. It’s not like you did it on purpose. I should have been paying attention.”

“Why weren’t you? I was fine.”

“But I was worried.” He pulled me close to him and kissed my hurt shoulder. “I saw you wince when you got ready to throw.”

“I figured you did, but I’ll be fine. Did you hear about what happened at school?”

“You mean, did I hear about you kicking that girl’s ass?” He smiled. “Yes, I did. I’m very proud.”

I smiled. “She deserved it.” I looked at him. “My shoulder was so messed up today because my dad made me do one hundred push-ups while he gave me a speech on anger and other motivational shit.”

Zach’s jaw clenched, and I felt his hands tremble a little.

“He’s really a good dad, Zach.”

He closed his eyes. “Okay.” His voice sounded strained. He kissed me and pulled out a thing of Icy Hot from his back pocket. “I brought this for your shoulder.”

I pulled my shirt off and sat down on the swing. As he rubbed it in, I gripped the chains on the swing. It hurt so badly.

“I know it hurts, but it should help.”

I nodded and put my shirt back on when he finished. I looked up at him. “You can’t be so nice to me around people. You almost blew our cover today.”

“When did I almost blow our cover?” He sat down with his back to the tree then patted the spot in front of him.

I got up from the swing and sat down. I held his hand when he wrapped his arms around me. I pressed my back against his chest.

“During practice. Even your brother was confused as to why you weren’t focused.”

“Oh that.” He kissed my neck then put his chin on my good shoulder. “I was worried about you. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

“Well get used to it because it will be this way all season unless Dad can get me steroid shots in my shoulder.” I sighed deeply. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. But I do want to talk about how you never mentioned playing for the Braves. What the hell?” I moved so I could sit Indian style, facing him.

“It was a while ago. I was one of the first ones they had taken out of high school in a very long time.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I messed up my shoulder because I downed pills and took shots instead of taking care of it. It’s one reason I worry about your shoulder so much, and why Elliot worries. The coach I had just pushed me harder and got me more pills.”

I looked down at the ground instead of meeting his eyes. “I’m learning to throw with my left hand.”

I couldn’t tell him how addicted I got to muscle relaxers last year. It was the reason my dad didn’t have me on them right now. The doctor switched to steroid shots to manage the pain so I could get off the muscle relaxers.

I looked at him. “I’ll try to be careful. I promise.”

“I don’t want you ruining your shot like I did.” He looked at me seriously. “You can make it, if that’s what you really want. I can start working on strengthening exercises with you that I learned from therapy. If you want me to.”

I nodded and touched his bruised wrist gently. “I should head back home.”

He kissed my cheek. “Do you have to?” He pouted.

I grinned mischievously and crawled into his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. “You could make it hard for me to leave.”

He moved his hands to my ass and pulled me tightly to him before kissing me. His lips moved to the spot on my neck that drove me crazy. I laughed and moved my hands until they found the bottom of his shirt. I lifted it over his head and kissed his neck and moved down his bare chest. We both laughed when the owl hooted, but it didn’t stop us.