Abigail Johnson - The First To Know

“You met Mom when you were both nineteen, right?” Dad nodded, turning the ball before throwing it again. I caught it. “And she was your first real girlfriend.” Another nod, another throw. “Didn’t you ever like anyone before that?”

“Sure,” he said, “but no one caught me like she did.”

The ball hit my glove, I threw it back. “What do you mean?”

“Some people you meet and it’s nice, it’s good, but you can walk away. You’re okay without them.” He gazed toward the house. “I’ve always been that way, good on my own—it never bothered me until your mom. I knew from our first date that I would never be okay without her.”

I was slow to throw the ball back. Dad rarely talked about his life before Mom. I knew pieces, random things he or she let slip over the years. He’d never been adopted, and at least one of the foster families he’d lived with wasn’t allowed to have any more kids after Dad was removed. As for the others, he wasn’t in contact with any of them, which was telling enough. Mom was his first real family, his only family, until Selena and I came around. I wanted him to have so much more. I started to check my phone to see if Brandon had replied, but Dad barked a warning at me.

“No. No phones. Come on, Dana, do you want this or not?”

I couldn’t tell him what I was checking my phone for, so I had to take the reproof. “I do,” I said. I liked softball; most of the time I even loved it. I knew I’d never give it up like Selena had, but what I really wanted was Dad nodding at me again, smiling. I wanted him to be proud of me.

“Then start acting like it.”

My hand came up reflexively as he released the ball. It sank right into the pocket of my glove. “There,” he said. “You ready?”

Our easy game of catch was over. In hindsight, I was surprised it had lasted this long. I sucked in a breath and nodded, knowing he was going to start relentlessly hitting screamers and grounders at me. Dad grabbed the bucket of balls and a bat while I set up the net we used to mark first base, then moved back to the far end of our dirt yard—not the most aesthetic on our block, but that was by design. We didn’t host barbecues or have a swing set in one corner; we ran drills. Endless drills.

The bucket of balls Dad set beside him was close to overflowing. “We’re going through it three times.”

I avoided looking at my legs. Their fate had just been sealed, and sure enough, my shin ate the first grounder Dad hit my way. He’d drilled me enough over the years that I didn’t even think to olé out of the way. As third baseman, I was used to taking hits to the chest and shins, and more than one to the face. But I wouldn’t trade the hot corner for any other position. I scooped up the ball and fired it at the net designating first base.

It was nine by the time Dad started refilling the bucket, and I still had homework to do. When I mentioned that fact to Dad, he gave a little shake of his head and hit a hard shot to my left so that I had to half dive to catch it, barely snowconing the ball in the tip of my glove.

“You do some tonight and get up early to finish the rest in the morning. Selena was out here with me every night.” He picked up another ball from the bucket. “Nothing else took priority, not boys or needing to be on her phone constantly, just this.” The ball stung a little when it hit my glove, reminding me how close Dad had come to playing professionally before a torn rotator cuff in college ended that dream for him. He’d had hopes for Selena, but now all those hopes rested heavily on me. I wasn’t as good as my sister, and no amount of drills in our backyard was going to change that, but I was willing to work that much harder because of it.

I put more heat on the ball I threw toward the net, hitting the target dead center and earning a little nod from Dad.

“Again.”

Chapter 5

My shoulder was still aching when I woke up the next morning. It was dark out, and my textbooks were waiting for me exactly where I’d left them the night before. I missed breakfast, but in between checking my phone for Brandon’s reply, I got my homework done in time to grab a few pieces of cold bacon from the kitchen and a kiss from Mom before racing to school.

I half slept through my first hour, rousing every few minutes to check my phone under my desk. Still no response. My disappointment was palpable. I had to keep reminding myself that it hadn’t even been a full day since I’d written to my grandfather, but I really needed this to work out. I rubbed a freshly formed bruise on my shin while I waited for the bell to ring.

I repeated that process until sixth hour—practice. Superstition Springs had recently approved a new policy that not only allowed participation in extracurricular sports to count as PE credits but let us practice during school hours. I couldn’t wait to be outside. The weather was perfect, not a surprise for Arizona in the spring, but the clear, baby blue sky and the hint of a breeze to temper the warm sun were the distraction I needed while I waited for Brandon’s reply. I met Jessalyn in the locker room and plunked down on the bench beside her to change my shoes.

“Don’t you look pretty?” She started lacing up her cleats. “Not everyone can pull off bloodshot eyes, but you?” She nodded, grooving a little and causing her braids to swish against her back.

I dropped my head on her shoulder. “My dad had me taking grounders until eleven last night, and then I had three hours of homework after that. Every night I feel like it gets later. In a month I won’t be sleeping at all.”

“So that’s why you were late.” She raised the shoulder I was using as a pillow. “You know Nick waited for you before first period.”

I lifted my head. “He never said anything.” Though now that she mentioned it, Nick had been waiting by my locker most mornings for a while now.

“He wouldn’t, would he?”

Probably not. Nick would never risk saying something that he thought might make me feel bad. Jessalyn did that for him. She was taller than most of the guys in school, and even without the conditioning that she got from playing softball, she sported totally natural lean muscle definition. I would have swapped arms with her in a second, but there had been more than one idiot boy who was less than impressed with her by-all-rights-impressive physique. Nick had always been a notable exception, which in turn made Jessalyn fiercely protective of him, even with me.

“He stayed until the last second and then had to sprint so he wouldn’t be late.”

My stomach gave a little lurch. “I never asked him to wait for me. I would have texted him that I was running late if I had.”

“The guy follows you around like a puppy dog waiting for any scrap of affection you throw his way.”

I pulled on my T-shirt over my sports bra. “Come on, that’s not fair or true. You’ve been friends with him almost as long as I have. You know how he is.”

“I know what he was like before you became the sun in his solar system. He can barely talk when you’re around now. So I can hang out with either him or you, but not together. It kind of sucks.”

It did suck. A lot. “Then help me. I haven’t changed—why did he have to?”

“Ask your boobs.”

I tried not to laugh, but I failed. “I’m seriously asking you for help right now. You know he’s been helping me with the DNA thing for my dad, but even when we’re talking about that, he’s Nick, so he’s super sweet, but he’s still...I don’t know...uncomfortable around me.” That admission wriggled in my stomach. I hated that I was inadvertently doing that to him.

“Anything back yet from Secret Grandpa?”

My phone was faceup on the bench beside me so I could glance at it constantly. “No, and I’m failing miserably in my attempt not to obsess over it.” I pulled my gaze away to look at Jessalyn. “So what do I do with Nick?”