My relationship with baseball hasn't improved and time is slowly running out.

I leave for my last travel ball tournament ever in two weeks. The thought of dozens of scouts watching me pitch like the bedwetting newbie I'm acting like is horrifying. What's even worse is the lack of excitement I have all together.

The thought of a chapter of my life ending was expected to fill me with some level of sadness. The end of a long, bumpy road that's been paved for me since I came out of the womb. The fact that my parents won't be here to witness it should rub some salt in the wound. I've even prepared for that.

However, I feel nothing. I'm indifferent to what it means for me and that scares me.

Maybe that's why I'm no longer bothered by the fact I'm in the middle of another bullpen and I'm sucking almost as much as I did last week. I've had 10 balls go straight over Zayne's head and another eight in the dirt.

Not even caring that I send the last pitch perfectly down the middle, I yank my glove off. Desperate for the leather to be removed from my hand.

"Sage, hold up!" He calls and I stop, waiting for him to catch up. He pushes his dark hair out of his eyes. "Talk to me."

That hasn't been working for my therapist, I don't think it's gonna work for you. "About what?"

"About the shit show I've been catching." He snaps, throwing an arm out to block me from leaving.

"It's just a rough adjustment, no biggie." I assure him.

Eyeing me skeptically, he spits out some sunflower seeds.  "Look, something's holding you back. Figure it out and let it go."

You play the same sport as your father.

Smirking, I ignore the erratic pounding of my heart. "I'll be sure to send it your way."

Snorting, he flicks me off. "Glad to know you're good, Asshole."

"I'm feeling like a thousand bucks, boy, and don't forget it." Counterfeit.

Heading to the car, I try to shake the lingering ghosts from my mind on my drive home. The windows open to let the crisp autumn air freeze out my thoughts.

My room fits how I really feel. My drums are piled in the corner where Scarlett tried to rearrange them. It's not right but as soon as I was assured I didn't break them, I left the pile alone. Albums of my childhood are sprawled across the ground, evidence from how I scrounged through old pictures to remember what it felt like to love baseball.

Desperate to have that wild smirk spread across my lips as I roll the ball between my fingers without having my stomach roll in disgust.

Bending over, I pick up a picture of me pitching when I was 13. Without checking the back, I know this is from the championship game where I struck 9 batters out in a row. Dad was ecstatic. I can still remember his hooting and hollering all the way to the car, insisting we had to celebrate.

I didn't comprehend why he was so happy, there were other batters that got hits off me. Even if we won.

My phone rings and I answer it as the image filters back to the ground.

"Hello?"

"Miss me?" A smug voice fills my ears.

"Please, with all your calling I feel like you're a needy girlfriend." I snap, trying to ignore the fact I've been dodging Ashton's calls like the plague.

"I have needs, Rhodes, fulfill them and keep me happy."

"But I thought I was the wife?" I pout. "They say happy wife, happy life, so please me."

"Why is Scarlett the only one who will let me be the little spoon?" He whines and a genuine laugh tears through me. "What if I want to be the wife?"

"You are in your real relationship." I point out.

"Very true." He agrees. "The pants do look better on her."

Okay, I no longer like the direction this is going in. "I'll be sure to send a dress your way."

"Make sure it highlights my toned calves." He sighs and I laugh again. Sometimes this normally is all I need to make me feel human again.

That's why I miss having Ash around. That and the fact he gives my sister someone else to focus on.

"How're the bullpens going?" He asks and my smile falls. Who told him?

"Fine."

"Sure you aren't missing my beautiful face catching for you?" He taunts and I relax, he doesn't know.

"Nah, Zayne's face is pretty enough to keep me on target. Actually, I might even be doing better without you." Lie. Lie. Lie. But I'm relived he isn't here to watch the shit show that has become my pitching career.

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that." He offers dryly and I chuckle.

"Awe, Ash, I still love you." I kiss the phone just as my door opens.

"I respect the bromance but is Ashton sure he's not dating the wrong Rhodes kid?" Scarlett asks, a grin spreading across her face.

"Sweetheart, understand my heart holds enough space for two." Ashton offers as I put the phone on speaker.

Snorting, I hang up, ready to continue my endless soul searching.

Scarlett clears her throat, taking in the horrible state of my room. "What's with all the pictures?"

"Just taking a trip down memory lane." I offer, holding up a random photo of us at the field when we were toddlers.

"I couldn't think of a better way to commemorate the end." She smiles sadly, giving me a hug before going to make dinner.

The end, sure, but of what exactly?

*****

Saturday, I'm reminded of what's waiting for me in college.

Weekends of being an idiot with Gabe and honestly, the thought makes me a smallest bit excited. Sitting on Emmy's couch, I enjoy the chicken wings he bribed me with as he and Gabe try to find the remote.

"I don't understand how you keep losing it." Gabe mutters, trying to search under the cushion I'm sitting on. I don't move and he glares.

"Maybe if you would stop moving it whenever you come over." He snaps, crawling on the ground.

"I'm sorry my cousin, your roommate, enjoys my company." Gabe says, stealing one of my chicken wings.

"Notice how your cousin isn't here and I still let you in my home." Emmy points out, hitting his head on the couch. "That can change."

Snickering, I pull the remote out from under my ass and turn on the Alabama game. "Now that that's been settled, I'd like to enjoy my food in peace."

They both glare at me as they sit down and I just wink, enjoying the teriyaki wings.

"Can we go out tonight?" Gabe asks, scrolling through his phone on a commercial break.

"Count me out." I sigh, having no real desire to hit up the town.

"Why not, Scar's having a night out?" He reasons, having a very good point.

"And I know better, she'd find me if we were in the same city." And plus, I'm just not interested.

"But you'll be with me." He points out and Emmy shudders.

"That does nothing to help his case." He hits him, proving a very solid fact.

Pouting, he flicks us off. "Fine, be a loser tonight but eventually you will scour the town as a free man. College girls will love you. I've already been told by a few that that'd–" He stops talking as Emmy sends him a silent warning. "Shit, Sage, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine." I wave him off. "I'm single. I've been single for over a month and it's only natural for people to expect me to date again."

"James is dating, he says it's not as fun as everyone says it is." He offers in attempt to make me feel better. "I think he's just doing it wrong but that's ok."

"I don't think I'm really interested in dating people right now." I shrug, fixated on the TV screen. There's still a lot I need to process.

Once I'm able to function without hearing her voice in my head, I know I'll be open to dating. I just don't know when that will be.

"That's fine, there's no rush." Emmy assures me and I nod appreciatively.

The TV turns back to the game and an alarm on my phone goes off. Jumping to my feet, I silently swear as I head for the balcony.

It's time for my monthly call in with the coaching staff at Vandy. Although they haven't really answered me these past few months. It's been an ongoing game of phone tag.

"Hello?" A voice asks and it takes a moment for me to process I'm not talking to a voicemail.

"Coach Adams, it's Sage Rhodes. How are you?"

"Who?" He asks and I hear voices in the background.

"Sage Rhodes, I'm committed to the baseball team." I offer, struggling to find the proper words to identify myself. "We agreed last week that I would call you at this time."

Just like we had agreed three weeks ago we were gonna talk last weekend. And the weekend before that.

"Oh, how can I help you?" He finally speaks.

"Um, on your last message you said you wanted to check in." I recall. Hopefully he can remember that.

"Hm, oh, yes." He starts, clearly distracted. "How are you feeling?"

"Good. Great, actually. I'm preparing for my last outing in Jupiter in a few weeks and I'm feeling good about it." I lie, hoping this conversation will build up some of my veering confidence.

Clearly not.

"That's nice."

"Will you be in Florida, sir?"

"What?"

"Will you be in Jupiter, Florida for the tournament?" I clarify, everyone who's important will be there.

"Oh, yes. There's a few players we're interested in seeing." He says and I relax.

"Wonderful, would you like me to send you the time and field of my outing?"

"No." Well, that's sorta Important for seeing me play. "We're focused on some guys but good luck. I'm sure we'll run into each other down there."

I'm stunned into silence as the line goes dead. He just hung up on me. After asking who I was because he couldn't care enough to remember. Nor did he care enough to remember we had scheduled this call.

Numbly, I walk back inside and sit down, unsure of what to say. Instead I focus on the game, fixated on how successful Ashton is and wonder if his coaches ever forgot who he was.

*****

Monday morning, I'm staring at the Vanderbilt sweatshirt hanging in my closet. That call was so weird, impersonal. But it was just a phone call. Plus it was the Tennessee/Vanderbilt game, he was probably at a tailgate and a little drunk. He was just enjoying himself.

Sighing, I throw the hoodie over my head and wander downstairs.

"Good morning." Scarlett chirps, washing off a pan.

"Did you make breakfast?" I ask hopeful, my stomach growling.

"I did indeed and actually I made extra so you can have three sandwiches instead of two." She hands me a plate with three sesame seed bagels with sunny side up eggs and bacon.

Digging in as the twins and Saffron join us, I wrap my third sandwich up. "What has you up so early?"

Scar shrugs, "Just wanted to be productive and helpful. I feel like I'm falling behind on the whole caring for you guys wagon."

The twins stop eating. "How?"

"I... I haven't been home to make dinner as often as I used to and stuff like that." She answers, fidgeting with a hand towel.

"You're allowed to have a life, Scar." I remind her, sensing she feels guilty for going out this weekend.  I don't understand why. She was home by 1 a.m. and up at 9 a.m. to take Saff to karate. Truthfully, she should've had a longer break. "Although, I'm never gonna complain about a good breakfast."

She rolls her eyes, "Then you're gonna love lunch."

"Cold pizza?" The twins ask together, practically drooling.

"Picked it up last night, enjoy." She nods and Saffron giggles.

"Can you go out more often if this is the result?"

"Possibly." She kisses all of our foreheads. "I have to go, have great days."

Watching her leave, I grab the keys. Today is gonna be a good day. A fresh start to a fresh week with no lingering bad vibes.

*****

Waiting by a bottom locker at the end of the hall, I grin as a grumpy Chloe Hale shoves me out of the way. "What do you want?"

"Good morning, Chlo-bear." I chirp, watching her grab her stuff.

"It's too early to deal with you." She yawns. "Did I forget to text you again?"

"Nope." Although I'm pleased to know she's no longer fighting communication. It's one less thing for me to worry about. "I brought breakfast."

Pausing, she eyes me skeptically. "Why would you buy me food?"

"I didn't." I snort, she's not that special. "Scar made too many eggs and I couldn't eat three sandwiches, so I brought one to you."

"And you want me to have it, why?" She pushes, showing no indication of accepting the sandwich.

Because ever since she was at my house last week, I've been fixated on something she let slip about being hungry. Then I noticed at lunch she only ever nibbles on food if Wes or Maggie gives it to her. I'm not one to pry and it really is none of my business, but I have a hunch and I can't ignore it. "Because it's bad to waste food and I thought of you, now take it."

Shaking the sandwich in her face, she snags it. I'm overly pleased when she takes a bite, offering me a curt nod. "Thanks."

"Anytime." I say over my shoulder, heading for my own locker. Anytime.

*****

My first two periods have been great, which means I've been borderline oblivious to the stares people have been sending my way. It's been a while since anything even close to a smile has graced my face, I'd be surprised too.

"So who do you care for more?" Will Anderson asks as I'm walking down the hall.

"What are you talking about?" I snap, not a fan of the fact he's touching me.

"Whose side are you taking?" Adam West joins us.

"Your cheating sister or poor, heartbroken McClain?" The first one says.

Looking between the two guys, I'm trying to figure out what type of drugs they're on because they're clearly smoking something. "What?"

"My money's on his sister." Anderson says.

"No way, McClain is his best friend and the innocent party."

"Cheater or not, she is his sister."

"What the actual fuck are you two talking about?" I demand, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

"Your sister, man." Anderson states like it's obvious.

"She cheated on McClain." West says, shoving his phone in my face.

Blinking, my eyes scan the article posted by some stupid, popular gossip magazine that's shared by Snapchat. What grabs my attention is the photo of some guy leaning over her.

"She's kissing him."

"No, she isn't." I spit, shoving the phone into his chest.

This is bad. Very, very bad and I need to figure out how to fix it. Pulling my phone out, I can read the football GroupMe.

She actually cheated

Holy shit.

Why couldn't it have been with me?

Now that it's an open market, I say good luck, men. Enjoy watching my victory dance with McClain's spoiled goods.

My eyes burn in rage as I read through the messages, unable to fathom how utterly disgusted I am by my entire team. Someone grabs my shoulder, and a glare has Anderson letting go.

"Is it true?" He has the audacity to ask.

Shoving him up against the wall, I don't try to hide the hate from my eyes. "Does it matter, you've already made your thoughts crystal clear?"

He pales, "Look, Sage, I-I didn't mean it."

I drop him to the ground, fixated on a different target. "Save it."

Wes is surrounded by teammates, grinning as they all read the article. "Tough day?"

Knocking him to the ground, I shove my arm across his throat. "Talk about my sister one more time and I will beat you black and blue. She is not spoiled goods and you're lucky I care more about not stressing my sister out than kicking your ass. One day I will beat you to a pulp, keep digging your hole."

He wheezes, "So I take it you're forgetting all about McClain?"

"It's not true." I state, looking at all of our gather teammates as I hold him in place. "So if anyone else would like to run their mouth about lies, I'll gladly kick your ass into next month. Do I make myself clear?"

They all nod, running off to class.

"Sometimes I wish you weren't such a piece of shit, Wes." I admit, using all of my body weight to shove off of him.

I don't wait to see if he gets up, too focused on finding my sister as I enter Mel's classroom.

"Mel–" I start but she's hanging up the phone.

"Class, go to the library. You are responsible for reading chapter 11 of Frankenstein." She orders and almost instantly everyone filed out of the room.

"The article." I panic. "Everyone has seen it and it looks so bad. Someone needs to find her. I need to go find her because I know for a fact she ran off. That's what she does when she gets scared or upset, she runs. I need to find her, and I can call Ashton and they can– Oh my God, Ashton. someone needs to make sure he isn't about to commit murder. I'd like to help him but still, he shouldn't. But Scar, she needs me."

My aunt hugs me, ending my long-winded rant. "John is already headed her way and Avery is with her."

"Why would anyone say such a thing?" I demand, hating that people actually believe this garbage.

She sighs, "I don't know, dear."

Her phone rings and she answers it, listening with a growing horrified expression but nodding. "I'll be right there."

"What happened?" I panic, afraid that Uncle John is who called.

"I have to go talk to Saffron's teacher; she just attacked a 5th grader." She offers, running out of the room.

Pacing the room, I try to calm down but no one is answering my call. Not Scarlett or Ashton or Avery or even Gabe. Why won't anyone answer?

*****

CONTINUE SCROLLING TO READ THE NEXT CHAPTER!! DOUBLE UPATE TO CELEBRATE LIC HITTING 7 MILLION