Pitched Read Online Ella Goode

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Insta-Love, Romance, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
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“Where are we going?” I ask my own question this time.

“You never gave me your address. I’m just driving.”

“I’m on Madison and Vine,” I tell him.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Why would I? You’re a mean bully. I was starting to think they were fake ‘cause everyone has been so nice.” I fold my arms over my chest, annoyed at the weird attraction I have for him. Once again, my emotions start to overwhelm me. I try and push them down.

“Probably best if you think that about me,” he mutters.

I stare out the window, not daring to look his way. My nose starts to burn. Finally we pull onto my street.

“Here is fine,” I get out through my tight throat. He comes to a rolling stop. The sound of the locks disengaging is loud in the car.

“Stay away from the parties, GG,” he orders. I sniffle, grabbing the door to get out. “Wait. Shit. Are you crying?” He grabs my wrist, stopping me from getting out.

“Just leave me alone. I get it, okay?”

“GG, I—”

“Let her arm go, boy.” I realize Grandpa is standing right next to the car.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t care what you meant.” Grandpa cuts him off again. I’ve never seen him look so threatening before.

“Sorry.” He lets go of my wrist. I’m out of the car a second later. I bolt toward the house, going straight to my bedroom. I close and lock the door behind me. It's the first time I’ve ever actually used the lock Grandpa put on the door for me.

A few moments later, a knock sounds at the door. “Georgia. Are you okay, sweetie?” Grams says through the door, not even trying to come in. I push myself off the bed, pulling the door open to talk to her. She somehow always makes me feel better.

“Why can’t I be like everyone else?” I ask her.

“Oh honey.” She wraps her arms around me, hugging me tight. It only makes me cry harder. “You’re different, sweetheart. One day you’ll realize that’s a good thing.”

I want to believe her, but all I know is today.

Chapter Nine

Colt

“Party was a bust, huh?” Tuck asks when I slam into the house. He’s sitting in the living room about two feet from the television.

“You’re going to lose your eyesight before you graduate.” I jerk open the fridge and grab an energy drink, only to realize how stupid that would be and shove it back in. I don’t need extra energy tonight. I need a downer, something to pull me off the ledge that I’m careening across, but I don’t drink beer—not after seeing what it does to my mom. The only thing I allow myself to be addicted to is the game. That is all that matters.

“Don’t you ever get tired of parenting me? You’re three years older, not thirty.” Tuck switches off the TV and tosses the remote onto the sofa. “Happy now?”

“No. Not really.” I’m not happy that I’m always fighting with Tuck. I’m not happy my dick decided to wake up. I’m not happy my mom’s a drunk who has zero self-respect. I’m not happy that I can’t enjoy what normal guys my age enjoy because my dad took off years ago and only occasionally pops back in to screw my mom--both literally and figuratively.

Tuck must sense I’m on the verge of combustion because his sharp tone gentles. “Party was that bad, huh?”

I, too, try to get a grip on myself and not be so combative and judgmental. “Same as always. The football players acting like they got their heads knocked together one too many times at practice, the basketball team playing one v one in the living room with a soccer ball and a trashcan, and the baseball team scarfing down pizza and beer like it was our last meal.”

“No girls?”

“Tommy invited a bunch from South View, but I didn’t see any of them.” They could’ve been dancing naked in the living room. I only had eyes for one person. I push away from the fridge and go pour myself a glass of water.

Tuck watches me drink for a half second before asking, “What’re you going to do in college?”

I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth. “What do you mean?”

“Are you planning on ignoring girls there, too?”

“Probably.”

“And then in the minors?”

“Yes.” There are lots of scouts that tell you to be extra careful in the minors because the teams are in small cities, and it’s easy to get trapped there by a townie.

“And what happens when you get to the majors? You’re just going to rest easy then? Have a full family and go to Disney World.”

He’s serious so I respond in kind. “I don’t know. I guess I’d like to think I’ve gotten good enough at the craft that I’ll be able to handle it or maybe I’ll be able to do casual shit.” I scrub a hand through my hair. “I’m facing each phase like they’re a new batter, which means watching the tape, learning the cues, and then focusing on their weaknesses. I assume they’re doing the same to me so I’ve got to shore up any shaky spots, plug the leaks.”



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