Playing the Field Read online

  “You can drop me off here, Mom.”

  “But it’s your first day. Don’t you want me to come in?”

  I pretended not to see the hurt look on her face. “I’m sort of a pro at this by now.” Before she could argue, I leaned over and gave her a hug. “Thanks for the ride, Mom. Don’t forget to have Dad call about softball. Love you.” Then I rushed out of the car, shutting the door quickly behind me.

  I jogged up to the school, ignoring the way the chilly air stung my lungs. Pennsylvania wasn’t winning any points right now. Starting at a new school halfway through the year was hard enough without the added misery of January weather in the Northeast. The sky was the color of dryer lint and it made me miss Arizona with a passion I normally reserved for the softball field.

  I shook the thought from my head and glanced around the sparse campus trying to get my bearings. My eyes found stark white letters on brick announcing the main entrance to Northwood High.

  More like, ‘Nowhere High’.

  The school was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by pines and sludgy gray piles of melting snow. For the millionth time I missed my brothers. Especially, Will. We were closest in age and in my not so humble opinion, awesomeness. We shared the same snarky sense of humor and if he were here, he’d know exactly the right joke to crack to make me feel at ease. But Will was at Florida State playing ball on a full ride scholarship. And with any luck, I’d be following in his footsteps.

  Chapter Two

  Grant

  “Yo, dude! Check out the new girl,” Tyler said, leaning next to my locker. “She’s fine!”

  “If she’s fine, she’s mine,” Dustin joked.

  I rolled my eyes, not even turning around to look. I knew my teammates’ taste. It wasn’t quite as refined as mine. Anything with a pulse constituted as hot in Tyler’s eyes and Dustin was so desperate for a date he went to homecoming with his cousin.

  That wasn’t me. I had a type. A type I’d yet to find, and thanks to my no dating pact, a type I didn’t have to waste time focusing on. This year was all about baseball and I wasn’t going to let anything distract me from my goals. Especially not girls.

  “Dude, seriously. Check her out,” Tyler prodded, elbowing me as I continued to ignore him.

  I was still searching for my books when I heard Lucas chime in as he joined us. “Whoa! Who’s the new girl?”

  That caught my attention. Every girl might be Tyler’s and Dustin’s type, but Lucas has a good head on his shoulders. I trusted his opinion. He was the only other guy on my team that was more focused on the game than girls. He hadn’t gone as far as making a no-girlfriend pact, but if Lucas was caught up on this chick, she was something I had to see.

  I turned, prepared to remind my teammates that no girls would be getting the undeniable charms of Grant King this season, but the vision walking toward me stole the words right out of my mouth.

  I had a type all right. And it just so happened she was walking down the hall toward me.

  A tall, leggy brunette with the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen was chewing the end of a pen cap as she glanced between the class schedule in her hand and the sea of gray lockers lining the hall. Watching the way those perfect full lips of hers twisted around the pen cap made my throat go dry.

  “She is so fine!” Tyler said for the millionth time.

  But he was right. This girl was fine. She was more than fine! She was my dream girl.

  Girls like her did not exist in Northwood.

  I was already reconsidering my ban on dating as I watched her move effortlessly toward

  me, but Tyler was all too happy to remind me.

  “Shame you’re not dating,” he teased.

  I wasn’t loaded like Tyler, but during baseball season I was his equal in these halls, so he was giddy when I’d announced I was taking myself off the market. And right now, he was having way too much fun rubbing it in.

  “Bet you’re thinking that no dating rule of yours is pretty stupid right about now, huh, King?”

  He may have been right, but there was only one thought repeating in my head at the moment—I have to know her. And if I didn’t act soon, I’d lose my chance to one of these jokers.

  I cleared my throat to grab her attention. It worked. Her blue eyes met mine with a confidence that almost chased mine away.

  I wasn’t used to girls meeting my gaze. I mean, I’m Grant King, Northwood High baseball hero and heartbreaker. Usually if I deemed a girl worthy of my attention she blushed and giggled, batting her eyelashes shyly. But not this girl.

  I was so caught off guard by her piercing stare that I missed my chance to speak first. Tyler beat me to it, and I knew whatever came out of his mouth wasn’t going to win me any points.

  “Hey girl, you lost?” Tyler asked.

  “Actually . . .” she started, but he interrupted with his lame punch line.

  “You must be, ‘cause heaven is a long way from here, angel.”

  I held in a groan, unsure if I should be more embarrassed for Tyler’s complete lack of game or for the gorgeous new girl as she focused her icy glare on Tyler. I knew she was trying to look intimidating and she did, but for some reason it made her look even hotter.

  I like a girl who can hold her own.

  Perhaps that’s why I’ve never fallen for any of the sheep here at Northwood.

  Well, okay . . . I’ve dated a bit and had some fun, but I’d never found anything serious.

  Not that I ever gave any of those relationships a real chance.

  I had enough responsibilities at the moment; the one at the top of the list being baseball—my ticket out of this dead-end town.

  The brunette bombshell spoke, her angelic voice pulling me from my musings.

  “Actually,” she said, walking right up to Tyler. “I’m not lost, but I’d sure love it if you’d get lost.”

  I stifled my laugh, but Lucas and Dustin didn’t bother. I had to hand it to Tyler though. He took the insult in stride, clutching his chest like she’d just mortally wounded him. “New girl doesn’t pull any punches,” he teased.

  “Remember that,” she said, turning on her heel.

  “Wait,” I called, reaching out before I could stop myself.

  She spun back toward me, guard up. “Do you have a line, too?”

  “What? No, I-I was just going to offer to show you around, since you’re obviously new.”

  “Wow! Y’all are a bunch of geniuses, huh?”

  “Y’all?” I repeated. “Where are you from?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she replied, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder before continuing down the hall.

  Yes!

  I almost said it out loud, because I want to know everything about her. Luckily, watching her walk away stole the breath from my lungs before I could say any of the embarrassing things I was thinking.

  “Dude!” Tyler said. “She made you stutter.”

  “I think you might be drooling,” Dustin added.

  “Shut up,” I snapped, shutting my gaping mouth.

  My friends continued to harass me, but I ignored them, much too preoccupied by the vision walking away from me. I’d never been jealous of a pair of jeans before, but I had nothing but envy for the pair hugging the mysterious vixen’s perfect long legs. She was wearing black sneakers and a plain white t-shirt under a faded black jacket. I couldn’t decide if it was the simplicity of her outfit I liked so much or the way it seemed she just didn’t care about things like trendy clothes. Not that it mattered. I had a feeling the girl could be wearing a trash bag and still get my heart racing.

  “This year just got a whole lot more interesting,” Tyler said, tilting his head to appreciate the view as he hungrily appraised my dream girl’s assets.

  I hated that he was right, but I hated the way he was looking at her more, so I slammed my locker and shoved him. “Come on. We’re gonna be late for class.”

  Chapter Three

  Alex

&n
bsp; I hadn’t been lying to my mom. I was a pro at being the new kid. Starting over at a new school had stopped being intimidating a long time ago. But sometimes it still felt exhausting.

  Like now, when I had to put up with being ogled by every moron who was interested in me for no other reason than the fact that I was new. I’d learned fresh meat was a hot commodity no matter what school I was at. Thankfully, I had thick skin. You don’t grow up with four older brothers and not learn how to give as good as you get.

  And as far as encounters go, being hit on by jocks was nothing new. And neither was my icy reaction. I liked to set the record straight right off the bat. I wasn’t here to make friends or flirt. I was here to get good grades and play ball. The fact that this middle-of-nowhere high school didn’t have a softball team only added to my less than pleasant attitude.

  Don’t get me wrong. I know how to have fun and I love the friends I’ve made over the years. But when you move around as much as I do, you learn it’s best not to get too attached.

  When I finally found my locker, I mastered the combination like a seasoned pro and hung up my jacket and backpack, quickly sorting through the few sentimental items that I brought to every new school. After making sure no one was watching, I taped two photos to the inside of my locker. One of my family with my oldest brother Sam when he went pro and one of my best friends, the Tomboy Trio: me, Jordan and Hannah.

  They’re the one bit of comfort moving here had brought me. My new school was near the summer camp where I’d met my two best friends. It’s the closest I’d been to them in a long time and the possibility of being able to meet up with them was the highlight of my otherwise gloomy return to the east coast.

  It’d been almost three years since I’d seen the other members of the Tomboy Trio, but even through all the moves, I’d stayed close with them. Us tomboys had to stick together—a lesson I learned all too well over the years.

  The summer I met my best friends was the summer I learned the trouble with being a tomboy. It was the summer I turned fourteen and everything changed. It stopped being cool to be a better athlete than the boys I challenged. Apparently, it wasn’t acceptable to be a pretty girl and an athlete. It was something I still had trouble wrapping my head around: boys wanted to date me, but not if I destroyed them on the field.

  Until Camp Haversham I hadn’t really had much experience with bullies. In my family whatever you did, you always did your best. A win was a win. It didn’t matter whether you were on a baseball field or playing a board game and it certainly didn’t matter if you were a girl or boy. But I quickly learned the rest of the world wasn’t as accepting. And sadly, it opened my eyes to a lot of things that made it difficult to exist without a chip on my shoulder.

  I even started to notice little things with my own parents. I knew they loved me unconditionally, but it was obvious my mom had dreamed of a daughter who would love tiaras and tutus, and my dad had hoped for another son to carry on his baseball legacy. What they got was me—a tomboy stuck in the middle.

  Meeting Jordan and Hannah at Camp Haversham had been a breath of fresh air. They were both incredible athletes in their respective sports, but they too were struggling with how to balance being seen as a champion and a girl. Their friendship helped me realize I wasn’t alone. They made me proud to ‘play like a girl.’ And if I’m being honest, it was also incredibly fun to mop the courts with all the boys who told us we couldn’t.

  Over the years I’d cheered them on and celebrated each victory with them. Jordan was killing it on the ice rink and Hannah owned the soccer pitch. Me, I was queen of the softball diamond. But that’s currently what had me on edge.

  What would I be if I wasn’t a softball star at Northwood?

  I looked at my phone, longing to call my friends and get their advice, but the warning bell rang making me table my thoughts for now. I grabbed my books and followed the tide of students to another first day of class.

  Chapter Four

  Grant

  When she breezed in through the door to my second period class, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. I hadn’t been looking forward to taking chemistry this semester. It was no secret my test scores weren’t as awesome as my batting average, but I suddenly found myself looking forward to the challenging class for an entirely different reason.

  I watched the new girl gracefully stride up to the teacher’s desk and hand over her class schedule. I was listening intently to catch any hints about her when Marcus Jones blocked my view. He was a nerdy junior I’d scared into being my lab partner this semester by telling him I’d saran wrap him to a toilet seat if he didn’t help me pass.

  Marcus gave me a nervous smile and started to pull the chair out next to me.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I growled.

  “But you said—”

  “I know what I said, but plans have changed. Find yourself a new partner,” I hissed pulling the chair from his grasp.

  The seething look I gave him finally sent him scurrying away. As I watched Marcus take the last empty seat in the back of the classroom, I found myself grinning. That meant the seat next to me was the only one left and it was now reserved for my future girlfriend.

  Alex

  “We’re glad to have you, Miss Prince,” the teacher said as she looked over my paperwork. “I see here you’ve met the prerequisites for chemistry?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answered politely.

  “All right then . . .” she scanned the classroom. “You can take the seat next to Grant King. He’ll be your lab partner for the semester.”

  I followed her finger and felt my stomach drop when I realized she was pointing to one of the jocks from this morning’s welcoming committee.

  Great. Just great!

  I knew from experience there was no sense arguing. It would just make things harder. It was tough enough being the new kid. I didn’t need to come off looking like I was a diva too. And that’s exactly what asking for a different partner would do.

  I sighed, trying to look on the bright side. I didn’t know Grant. Maybe he wouldn’t be so bad.

  He certainly wasn’t bad to look at.

  And he was a jock. It’s not like I had anything against jocks since I considered myself one. Maybe he could give me some insight into why there was no softball at Northwood.

  I took my class schedule back from the teacher and walked toward my new lab partner. I’d just decided to give him the benefit of the doubt when he gave me the cockiest smile I’d ever seen. Normally, I would’ve rolled my eyes, but the combination of his stormy gray eyes and chin dimple made me pause. I’d never seen someone equal parts attractive and aggravating.

  I met his ominous eyes and his crooked grin turned into a full-fledged smile so dazzling I tripped over my own feet—something I’d never done before!

  I caught myself, but Grant was already on his feet, his warm hand on my elbow steadying me.

  “You good?” he asked in a husky voice that made my stomach knot.

  “Yeah.”

  He flashed me another wonder-grin and pulled the chair out for me, making my cheeks burn.

  What the heck was wrong with me?

  I blinked at him like he had super powers. And maybe he did because I was certainly swooning over Mr. Chin-dimples.

  No, not Chin-dimples. His name is Grant.

  Just take a breath, Alex. Shake it off.

  Maybe this was just first day nerves—something that didn’t normally affect me, but I didn’t know how else to explain my sudden inability to think clearly.

  “I’m Grant King,” he said in a voice that befuddled me further.

  “Alex Prince,” I replied offering my hand.

  Luckily, meeting new students was a reflex by now and I was on autopilot by my second class of the day, even with a boy who looked like Grant King.

  He looked surprised by my very professional greeting. Handshakes probably weren’t something most high school girls did, but then again, I wasn’t mos
t high school girls.

  Grant took my hand and a shockwave of heat sparked through me. I knew he felt it too from the way he was grinning that annoyingly gorgeous grin again. This close, I noticed he had cheek dimples too. It was impossible not to notice how handsome he was, all dimples, black hair and shining gray eyes.

  Breathe, Alex.

  “What brings you to Northwood?” he asked.

  I tilted my head, surprised he didn’t go with the generic, ‘so where you from’ question that most people asked. Then again, maybe he didn’t deserve too much credit since he’d already tried to get me to answer that question this morning.

  “Bad luck?” I wagered, hoping he’d get my sense of humor.

  It was never too soon to rule out making friends.

  He let out a surprised laugh, earning him a glare from our teacher. Once her attention was back on the syllabus, he hit me with another of his stomach-flipping smiles. “I feel ya. I’m counting down the days till graduation myself.”

  I arched an eyebrow.

  Maybe there was hope for Chin-dimples, yet.

  “Two-hundred and sixty-nine in case you’re wondering,” he added.

  “What?”

  “That’s how many days until graduation.”

  It was my turn to laugh.

  Grant smirked as he pretended to be reading his textbook when our teacher glared in our direction again. We were both silent for the next few minutes out of respect for our future chemistry grade. I tried to concentrate on what the teacher was saying but despite the chill from the frigid winter weather outside, I felt like I was sitting next to a furnace.

  Grant King was making me sweat!

  Our arms grazed each other twice and I swear it literally felt like my skin was about to spontaneously combust.

  How’s that for chemistry?

  It didn’t help that he smelled like a summer rainstorm. It was making it impossible to concentrate.