thirty

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Mackenzie

The week starts off strange. Hannah decides that she doesn't want to go to the gym on Monday, so I go by myself, which is just plain weird. Dane and I do our usual tutoring sessions, but we're both quieter than normal. I can tell its going to be a long week.

It's 6:03PM on Wednesday when my phone rings. I'm sitting at home waiting for Dane to text me where he wants to work tonight. I see Dane's name and my stomach flips. "Hey." I say, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Mack. It's Noah." My heart drops because I've never heard Noah sound so serious.

"Is everything okay?" I manage to ask.

"Dane--" I can hear Noah swallow. I feel ready to throw up. "Grant hit a line drive straight at him, and he fell. Something in his arm tore, and he was screaming in pain, and then he passed out. They took him to the hospital." Noah is silent for the longest moment of my life. "Mack, they think his career is over."

"Oh, god." Is all I can manage to say.

"You're just the one thing in his life besides baseball. And I don't know if he needs the reminder right now that--" Noah doesn't need to finish his sentence.

"What hospital did they take him too?"

"The close one." Noah sighs. "Mack?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone I called you, okay?"

"Don't want anyone to know you've gone soft?" I ask, a small smile on my face.

"It would ruin my whole reputation." Noah manages a laugh.

"Thanks for calling me, Noah."

"Later, Mack." Noah hangs up, and I sit there and stare at my phone long enough that my laptop screen goes dark.

I rapidly click on my trackpad, and suddenly my fingers are flying over the keys, trying to figure out how close to death Dane had been. I figure out how far it is from the pitchers' mound to home, and how fast Dane pitches, and how fast a ball leaves a bat when a hitter hits a line drive. What I deduce is that if Dane had been hit in the face it could have been life-ending.

I burst into tears and lay my face down on my desk. I don't know why this is so sad to me, it's not like I had a career laid out in baseball. But I know how much it mattered to Dane. This might be his entire world coming to an end.

I give myself five minutes of sobbing, and then I shove everything I can think of into my backpack and take off for the hospital, suddenly glad that Kate, Hannah, and Penny are all out of the house for the evening.

It occurs to me on my way to the hospital that I should stop and get Dane's phone for him so that he at least has it at the hospital if he needs it. Noah is home, which is a relief, but when I ring the door, it's Grant who opens the door.

He is clearly drunk. "Hey Mack. Welcome to my pity party."

"Grant." I say cautiously in greeting.

"I'm drinking to forget that I ruined the baseball career of the best player on our team."

I don't know what to say so I just look at him for a long moment. His face crumples and he takes a long pull from the bottle in his hand. I'm able to read the label as he raises it. It's Jack Daniels, and I'm shocked when he takes a 15-second pull.

"That's enough." I grab the bottle from his hands.

"I deserve to poison my body right now." He tells me.

"Grant, this isn't your fault."

"Mack, you know what you're problem is?" I wait for him to tell me. "You're too fucking nice. That's why you don't belong in this house. Stop being so goddamn understanding." His words are slightly slurred and he leans against the wall. I try not to let it show in my face how much his words hurt. I barely know him, but I can already feel the words settling in my brain. No one has ever told me to stop being nice before.

Thankfully Noah appears so I don't have to think of a clever response. "Sorry about him." Noah mutters, slapping Dane's phone into my hand. "It's a rough night for all of us."

"Mostly me." Grant tells me. "You know why?" Noah rolls his eyes. "Because I ruined a fucking career!" He screams into the wall and then slams his fist through it. I flinch, wishing Dane was here so that I could hide behind him.

"You should go." Noah tells me. "I'll take that." I hand him the bottle of Jack.

"Thanks, Noah." I manage to mumble before fleeing to my car.

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