Whatever Life Throws at You
leading there because it’s jam-packed with media people—players standing in the middle of the storm talking into tape recorders, lights flashing everywhere. Dad is nowhere in sight, but I see Brody come through the doors, Savannah at his side.
    A man in a blue suit shoves a microphone at Brody and drills him with questions. “How does it feel to play in the big leagues, son?”
    Brody’s grin is so big I can see it from all the way down the hall. “Awesome. Seriously.”
    Those two words from the team’s current youngest player earn the attention of half a dozen other reporters, causing them to abandon the player they were interviewing and focus on Brody instead.
    “Think Johnson will let you stick around?” one reporter dude throws out casually, like my own life doesn’t depend on this answer.
    “I hope so.”
    They shout a few more questions at him, and Brody answers each with a grin.
    My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to read a text from Dad.
    DAD: It’s a zoo in here. Hiding out in my office. You’re getting a ride with Lenny, right? I’ll call you in a few minutes.
    I spin around and head away from the zoo before replying to Dad.
    ME: Yep, talk to you soon.
    I meet Lenny back in the suites, and she drives us to her house in her silver beamer.
    “That was the most amazing game ever,” I yell over Lenny’s blaring music.
    She turns the volume down. “Were we at the same game? Losing isn’t usually a cause for celebration.”
    I almost spill about today’s drama, but it’s nobody’s business. And Lenny hasn’t asked me what Johnson said that night in the bar, meaning she probably doesn’t want to get involved. “It’s just cool to see everything up close.”
    Lenny rolls her eyes but smiles at me. “I forgot you’re still new to this. It’ll get old real fast.”
    Dad calls when we’re halfway to Lenny’s and my heart speeds up a bit before I answer it. “Dad, how is everything? I mean…” I shoot a sideways glance at Lenny and wait for him to fill me in on our fate.
    “Good, Annie,” he says with real enthusiasm in his voice. “They’ve decided to let Harper have that surgery he needs on his shoulder.”
    Harper. One of the starting pitchers.
    “So that means…?”
    “Brody’s getting a three month contract,” he says like we’ve just won a big prize. I think we have. “If all goes well, he’ll sign for the rest of the season, at least as a relief pitcher. That will mean bumping someone off the roster. But if he kills it like he did today, there’s at least four guys we could lose with Brody’s stats.”
    “Have I told you I love you or that you’re a super super awesome coach yet today?” I spit out, so relieved I can hardly sit still in this car. This is clearly the work of guilt.
    Dad laughs. “No, you haven’t and thanks, Ann. Today was rough. I just need a little more time to get Brody to take off and hopefully get some of the other guys on my side.”
    “Well, they’re stupid boys if they don’t want to listen to you.”
    Lenny’s watching me carefully, a curious expression on her face that makes me hurry up and end my call with Dad.
    “So you’re cool to stay all night?” she asks once I’m off the phone.
    “Yep.” I raise the duffel bag at my feet. “Your parents really don’t care if you throw a big party?”
    “Let’s just say they turn a blind eye,” Lenny says. “But we’re gonna use the guesthouse. I imagine they’ve got their own wild party happening in the main house.”
    “But Brody’s staying in your guesthouse?” And surely he has a better much cooler party to go to. What with his years of maturity and non-family appropriate plans for the night.
    Lenny pulls into her huge driveway, raising up the garage door. “Don’t worry, I talked to him. If he doesn’t end up out on the town with some loose bimbo, he’ll stay in one of the guest rooms in the main house. He’s got the garage code already.”
    I try not to focus

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