Page 73 of No Easy Catch
“Then let’s do that. Come here, Henderson.” He moved us to lie side by side in my bed, his comforting arms holding me against his chest, and I had never felt safer. He ran his fingersthrough my hair for a good five minutes, helping me relax. “We’ll get through this together.”
I just hoped it was true.
29
JEFF
Iimagined heartbreak felt similar to the funk I’d woken up in four days in a row. Each morning was the same. I’d wake up, realize what had happened, get angry, furious, sad and lie in bed without motivation for much. Amber helped with the essential grieving process of potentially losing my senior year of baseball, but the loss of something so crucial to my life physically hurt.
But today was different.
Amber woke up in a hurry and rushed off to class, leaving me in her bed. I appreciated being able to relax here, away from the baseball house, because none of us knew what to say to one another. I had no doubt they believed me in my innocence, but the fact they went to practice every day made me pissed off. Amber’s was safer for my sanity and theirs. They had the draft to worry about. I didn’t.
Today was about finding a loophole or a way to prove that I didn’t fail my drug test, which meant researching ways drug tests could be falsified. It was worth a shot but after ten minutes of reading on my small phone screen, I texted Amber.
Jeff:Can I use your laptop to research something real quick? I’m still in your bed.
Amber:Sure, I should be back soon anyway.
Amber:Stay in my bed.
Jeff:Only if you boss me around later.
I smiledat her demand and thought about how we got to where we were at. There was a part of me that wondered how different my life would be if I hadn’t seen that document on my coach’s desk and found out Martin Rhett was her uncle. I wanted to think I would’ve found my way to Amber somehow but I knew it wasn’t true. I’d judged her without knowing who she really was and I would never regret the investigation, because it had gotten me her.
Now, I needed to fix the drug test bullshit and move on with my life.
I fired up her laptop and started looking up articles about procedures and alternative ways to get tested for steroids. My family wasn’t incredibly wealthy, but we could afford a lawyer if it came down to it. I preferred to not involve anyone else in this. They didn’t need any stress and, until the final test Friday, no news was better. Ten minutes in, apingwent off showcasing a text message. Amber must’ve had her Mac connected to her iPhone and I tried to ignore it because I trusted her and wasn’t that guy, but I recognized the number.
It was a number I had only called three times in my four years there, but it was one we were told to memorize in case we ever got into trouble.
Coach.
Why the fuck was he texting Amber? My palms started sweating as my brain traveled through every scenario that made sense, but none did. Clicking on the notification box, I read through the messages and a flash of anger and curiosity stormed through my body.
Coach:I saw you called.
Amber:I’m stopping by your office. It’s crucial.
Coach:I told you a couple more days.
Amber:Can’t wait that long.
Coach:Does Jeff know?
Amber:No. He’s doing what you asked.
Coach:I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.
My blood rancold and I had the overwhelming urge to punch a wall. Dialing Amber’s number, I forced myself to take deep breaths until she explained what the hell that meant. Her phone rang and rang before going to voicemail.
I tried again. Same response.
Jeff:What is going on?
Amber:Got caught up talking with a professor, call you in a bit.
A professor?
