Page 67 of Hiding in the Outfield

I finally put my earbuds in and turn on my playlist. Frankie’s playlist, to be exact. The one he made for me. There are quite a few boy bands on here, hits spanning the 80s, 90s, and 2000s, and of course, quite a few from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.

Michaels gives me a friendly shoulder bump, and I shoot him a smile.

It’s weird. I’ve been surrounded by this my entire life. The chirping. The dicking around. The playfulness of teammates. I had that with Dev. It’s not like we didn’t have a good time, even if the jokes were threaded with an ugly subtext.

But this feels different.

Maybe because I always knew my other friendships were surface level and temporary.

Maybe because these guys know more about me than anyone else in the world does.

And they’re still here.

Coming to my aid when I need it. Seemingly enjoying my company. Well, not Nebs, but maybe one day he’ll warm up to me.

For the first time in my life, it feels like I have people in my corner.

“Oh! Bro! I almost forgot.” Michaels rifles through his drawstring and pulls something out. He holds it out to me, wiggling it.

I stare at the navy blue and dusky violet bracelet. “What’s that?” I curse how hoarse my voice comes out. Because I think I know what it is. I’ve seen them on Maddox, Winters, and Nebs.

Michaels’s mouth hooks up on one side. “It’s your friendship bracelet, Olliebear.”

My throat closes over, and I frown hard against the sting behind my eyes. Oh.

I hold out my wrist. I’m not capable of words. Shane’s gaze darts to mine, then goes back to where he’s securing the bracelet around my wrist.

“Officially one of the crew,” he murmurs.

I grunt.

A small smile curves his lips, and he knocks my knee with his.

Officially one of the crew.

ANNOUNCER

JUNE 17TH

Bernie Johnson: Well, Oliver, looks like the Clippers are finally playing some baseball tonight!

Oliver Reeves: They’re running away with this one—thirteen runs. I just hope they remember they’ve got to pace that offense out over the season, not pack it all into one night.

Bernie: If Jackson Olander’s bat stays as hot as it is right now, I don’t think they’ll need to worry about pacing anything. Speaking of—Olander steps in. We’ve got bases loaded, folks. Let’s see what Olander can do with it.

Oliver: Something’s changed with his swing, Bern. I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s cleaner, crisper. He’s seeing everything.

Bernie: Here comes the pitch. And it’s outside. One-oh. I know exactly what you’re talking about, Ollz. The swing just looks easier now, more relaxed. Whatever he’s changed, it’s working.

Oliver: If he keeps this up, the Jetties are going to have some decisions to make in center field.

Bernie: Chavez would be tough to replace, but Olander is making a real case. Pitcher deals—and OH, BABY! GOODBYE! Jackson Olander sends it to the stratosphere—a grand slam! An O-bomb from Olander!

Oliver: Look at the smiles in that dugout, Bern. Not in the dugout for long. They’re pouring out now. Am I seeing this right—Shane Michaels out there pretending to knight Olander with his bat?

Bernie: [laughs] If that hit isn’t knighthood material, I don’t know what is. I think the Clippers deserve a little celebration. They look like a team that’s finally broken out of it.

Oliver: And the second half of this season is starting to look a whole lot brighter.