Page 19 of Run Home

In my imagination, there’s no space between our lips.

But even though my dreams aren’t real, the facts are still enough to keep me smiling all day—Sam came to my house, she saw my sanctuary, and she wasn’t overwhelmed by the vibrance of the Venezuelan-inspired decor.

She ran her fingers through my hair.

I’d say that’s enough to satisfy my longing for Sam for the foreseeable future, but it would be a blatant lie. That moment of physical contact collapsed a black hole of desire in my heart. Nothing will ever be enough to curb the craving now.

Inviting Sam over for outfit assistance was initially a spontaneous excuse to spend time alone with her, but it became a more intentional litmus test, inviting her into a more personal circle of my life to see how she reacted. I have no idea if Sam has ever thought of me beyond my role as her brother’s best friend and former teammate. If forced to make a bet, I’d wager against her having ever thought of me in a romantic sense.

But I’m going to figure out how to change that. I’m going to figure out how to approach this with Griffin. Because I can’t keep moving through each other’s worlds without seeing if we could move through the world together.

Pulling to a stop behind Sam’s car on the street behind the school, I put the truck in park, cut the engine, and lock the doors. Striding to where she’s exiting her car holding a wrapped gift, I ask, “Do we need to go through the front doors to check in?”

She shakes her head. “No. Danae already checked us in at the office. She’s meeting us at the door by the playground, and we’ll go straight to the library until the ceremony starts.”

As soon as we reach the building, Danae pushes the door open. I hold it open as she gives Sam a hug. Danae leans in to give me a side hug under my outstretched arm, saying, “It was so sweet of you to come, Adrian. Jason’s beyond excited—although we had several conversations about not broadcasting that you’re here to all of his classmates. We’ll try to keep you from getting mobbed.”

“Of course!” I reply. “I’m glad the timing worked out to see Fireball cross the stage for his diploma.”

Danae’s brow furrows. “Oh, it’s not a big ceremo—”

“He knows,” Sam cuts in. “I’ve told him repeatedly that this is a small celebration and not a real graduation.”

Pointing at her, I observe, “Says the person carrying a giant present.”

Sam rolls her eyes, but I catch her smiling as we follow Danae into the school. The door we’ve entered is practically a straight shot to the library in the center of the building, so we’re hidden away before being spotted by anyone in the hallways.

“Griffin and I will sit in the chairs close to the front of the multipurpose room,” Danae explains as she hands us visitor stickers to place on our shirts. She sets Sam’s gift on the desk and continues, “I think your best bet would be for Sam to go in and save seats on the benches at the back. Adrian, wait until the fifth-grade students pass by the library, then join Sam. You can duck out as they’re wrapping things up. Then everyone lines the hallways to clap for the fifth graders walking through one last time before the early dismissal.”

Sam looks at Danae with compassion. “You’re going to be a sobbing mess, aren’t you?”

On cue, Danae’s eyes fill with tears. “Probably so, yes.”

“I’ll make sure Adrian gets out, and then I’ll come find you and Griffin in the hall for moral support,” Sam says.

Frowning, I observe, “So I wouldn’t get to see Fireball at all according to this plan, huh?”

Danae’s lips dip to match my frown. “I guess not. But he knows to look for you from the stage.”

“Could I hang out in here until you’re done with the clapping thing so I could see him? I assume he and Griff will come chill in here until you’re done with dismissal,” I say.

Danae nods. “Yes, that’s true. But you might get stuck for a while before the halls are clear for you to leave. Will you be late for batting practice?”

“I should be okay,” I say. “The game isn’t till seven, so unless this fancy ceremony drags on and on”—I glance to Sam, who’s rolling her eyes at me again—“then I should be fine on time. I’ll text the coaches to give them a heads-up just in case.”

“Sounds good,” Danae replies. She’s smiling when she adds, “This will really make Jason’s day to see you here.”

“What? Hey!” Sam exclaims. “Is his day not made by my presence alone?”

“His day is always made seeing his Sammi,” Danae says. “But it’s not every day that he gets to see his favorite third baseman.”

Puffing up my chest, I ask, “Am I definitely his favorite again? ’Cause for a while there he kept going on and on about Samuels at Chicago. It hurt my feelings.” I exaggeratedly pout my lip.

“You’re forever his favorite. Although he may not recognize you in these casual clothes,” Danae says. I hold up a hand to high-five Sam.

After a few more minutes chatting, Danae says, “I’m going to get in there to sit with Griff. Any questions?”

Holding up one finger, I say, “Just one. Where, exactly, is the multipurpose room?”