Page 117 of What We Brave
"You gotta be ready before the machine is ready," Reid calls. "Get your bat up."
I get my bat up. The machine clunks again.
Another ball. I swing. Miss by approximately three feet.
"Son of a —"
Another ball. Another miss. This one I at least get close to — I feel the air from it brush the end of the bat.
"You're dropping your elbow," Reid calls.
"I know." I don't know. I don't know what any part of my body is doing. I reset my stance, grip the bat tighter. The machine whirs.
Another ball. Another miss.
"Come ON!"
I was supposed to feel better by now. That was the whole point — hit things, feel things, get it out. Instead, every ball that flies past me feels like another failure in a day already full of them.
"This isn't working," I say, stepping back from the plate.
Reid hits the pause button. The machine goes quiet. He ducks through the cage door and walks toward me, bat in hand.
Through the chain-link, I'd caught glimpses of his face while I was flailing — this big, dumb, delighted grin. Like watching me be terrible at something was the highlight of his week. Now he's trying to look serious and failing completely.
"Your form's all wrong," he says. "Here, let me help."
He moves behind me. Close. Too close.
"First, you gotta relax your shoulders." His voice drops an octave. His hands slide down my arms, repositioning them. "Like this."
"Reid. What are you doing?"
"Teaching you." He's using this ridiculous breathy tone. Like a bad movie. "Now bend your knees a little. That's it. Feel the power in your core."
"Are you... are you trying to seduce me right now?"
"I have no idea what you mean." His breath is hot on my ear. "Just focus on the ball. Let your body do what it knows how to do."
I snort. "You're insane."
"Mm-hmm." He adjusts my grip, fingers lingering. "Now when the ball comes, you want to reallythrustinto it —"
I start giggling. "Stop."
"Thrust, Laine. With your hips."
The giggle becomes a laugh. Then a snort. Then —
A sob.
It catches me off guard. One second I'm laughing at Reid's terrible seduction act, the next I'm crying. Not cute crying. Ugly crying. The kind that comes from somewhere deep and doesn't ask permission.
Reid drops the bat immediately. It clatters against the concrete. His arms wrap around me.
"Hey. Hey, hey." He pulls me against his chest. "I've got you."
I can't stop. The harder I try, the worse it gets. My whole body shakes with it — these awful, heaving sobs that sound like they're coming from someone else.
