It Was Me by Anna Cruise Page B

would want a full report of my meeting. Her parents, too.
    I tried to take a couple of deep breaths, get myself under control, but it didn't help. All I could think about was what I was being offered. And what was at stake. Take the offer from Arizona and play ball, be in a good position to move to playing professionally after graduating. But leave Abby. Turn down Coach Childs and head back to San Diego, back to fucking Mesa and coaching kids at the Academy. But stay with Abby.
    There were other variables to consider but, when push came to shove, that was pretty much what it boiled down to. I gulped more air and swallowed it down, trying to calm my racing pulse.
    I knew what my heart wanted.
    I just wasn't sure my head was in full agreement.
     

EIGHTEEN
     
     
    “It's a no-brainer, West.”
    We were back in the casita, sitting across from each other at the dining room table. Abby was munching on chips and salsa her mom had set out, drinking a diet Coke. Mine sat unopened in front of me.
    I'd filled her in on my meeting with Coach Childs. Her parents had asked how it had gone and I'd been purposefully vague with them because I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I'd just said the meeting had gone okay. They either accepted that or sensed that I didn't want to talk about it because they hadn't asked me anything else about it.
    Abby, however, did not follow their lead and was all over it.
    She grabbed a chip and dunked it in the bowl of salsa. “This is what you've been wanting,” she said. “What you should have had two years ago. And yeah, it's not the same school as before, but still. It'll give you the opportunity you deserve.”
    She was saying all of the right things, all of the things I'd expect her to say. But I could hear the words she wasn't speaking. It was all there. In her eyes, in her expression, hell, even in the tone of her voice.
    She didn't want me to go.
    “I can't believe they're going to pay for everything.” She took a sip of her soda. “I mean, that is incredible.”
    I played with the tab on the soda, barely lifting it with my thumb nail.
    “West.”
    I didn't look up.
    “West.”
    Abby was staring at me.
    “What?”
    “I've been talking for, I don't know, an hour? You haven't said a single word.”
    “It's been five minutes.”
    “Well, it feels like an hour.” She smiled. “Talk to me.”
    I shrugged. “I don't have anything to say.”
    Abby frowned. “What do you mean, you don't have anything to say?”
    I spun the can of soda on the table, the beads of moisture making it slide easily across the wooden surface. “I mean that I've told you everything. There's nothing new to say.”
    She sighed and reached her hand across the table, covering mine, bringing the spinning can to a stand still. “There's a lot to say. I want to know what you're going to do. When all of this is going to happen. Do you move here immediately? Like, next week? Or later in the summer?”
    I pulled my hand away. “I never said I was taking it.”
    She stared at me blankly. “What?”
    I finally popped open the can and took a long drink. The bubbles burned my dry throat. “You heard me.”
    She opened her mouth to respond, her eyes wide, but the door to her parents bedroom opened and both her mom and dad emerged. They'd changed out of their swim suits and were both wearing shorts and polos, red for her dad, a light purple for her mom.
    “We're going to grab some lunch,” her mom said.
    She'd pulled her hair into a ponytail and, with a fresh tan and little make-up, she looked like a slightly older version of her daughters. I stared at her, probably a little longer than I should have. Not because I had the hots for her but because it was like looking into the future with Abby. But it was a future that suddenly didn't seem quite so certain.
    Her dad grabbed his visor and settled it on his head. “You guys want to come? We're headed to that salad place.” He patted his stomach. “Need to watch what I'm