BY THE TIME I finally manage to extricate myself from Zoe, it’s the sixth inning. On the way back to the seats, I realize that Sebastian’s about to come up to bat, so I pause where I am, behind the rows in front of home plate, to watch him step into the batter’s box.
Like most baseball players, he takes a moment to settle into his stance. He widens his feet, rotates his waist a few times, and taps the bat on the toes of his cleats before settling it in place over his shoulder. He takes the first pitch, an outside ball, and readjusts for the next one. Another ball.
“Throw a strike!” a guy wearing a Binghamton shirt yells at the pitcher.
I cup my hands around my mouth and shout, “Go Seb!”
He gets another ball. The pitcher isn’t giving him anything to hit. There’s already a runner on second base, so maybe he’s being cautious, trying to get past Sebastian to an easier batter later in the lineup.
The guy looks back at me. I shrug. “Girlfriend duties.”
“Your boyfriend sucks,” he says.
I give him my best bitch look. “You want to go there?”
“There you are,” Penny says, grabbing me by the elbow and dragging me in the direction of our seats. The pitcher throws a fourth ball, and Seb tosses away his shin guard before jogging to first base. “I was getting worried. You left your phone at your seat, and I just saw that Giana called a bunch of times.”
The noise of the game fades away for a moment. “What?”
“I’m sure everything is fine.”
“Maybe.” I speed up the pace. Giana wouldn’t call more than once unless there was an emergency. “Or maybe it’s not.”
Penny hurries down the steps after me. When I get to the seats, Izzy holds out my phone right away.
“She started texting,” she says. “But we didn’t see any of them, don’t worry.”
I don’t bother listening to her messages; I just call her and press the phone to my ear. Sebastian’s team is back on the field for the top of the seventh. I turn away, walking back up the stairs to a quieter spot, as Giana picks up.
“Oh, good. I’ve been calling for the past fifteen minutes, you know.”
“What’s the matter?” I duck into a little corridor between the lower seats and the stairs to the upper deck. “Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone’s fine. Didn’t you read my messages?”
“I’m at Sebastian’s game. I just saw that you’ve been calling, I didn’t stop to check the messages.”
“Oh, you’re at the game right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember my friend April, the one you were going to go to the conference with? You never got in touch with her, by the way.”
“What about her?” I say, just barely refraining from snapping.
“She sent me this picture on Instagram? Or a tweet? Wait, I think it was a tweet. Anyway, it’s of you in a baseball jersey, which is adorable, by the way—”
“Giana,” I interrupt. “What about that made you call me five times in a row?”
“It’s just strange,” she says. “The caption is talking about how you’re trying to work for NASA.”
“What?”
“Mia di Angelo, Sebastian’s girlfriend, is as talented in the lab as he is on the field. She’s double majoring in astronomy and physics, and aiming to work for NASA one day,” Giana recites.
I drag my hand over my face. I didn’t mention that to Zoe when we talked just now, so Sebastian must have said something during the interview. Fuck. I can’t even be mad at him, because he doesn’t know that I’ve been hiding things from my family, but this could upset the delicate balance I’ve been maintaining. If Giana already started yapping about it to everyone else, I’m toast. There’s no way it’s not getting back to Mom and Dad.
“Giana,” I start.
“This is what’s true, right?” she says. “It’s what you’re trying to do? You never planned on becoming a teacher.”
“No,” I admit.
“I figured something was up when you wouldn’t tell me anything about this student teaching you were supposedly doing,” she says. “Or when you didn’t get in touch with April.”
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure what to say. I bite my lip, watching as a couple walks by, hand-in-hand.
“That’s it?” she says eventually. “No explanation? No apology?”
“I didn’t mean to lie,” I say. I swallow the hurt rolling through me. “It’s just… you know how impossible it is to do anything Mom doesn’t agree with.”
“So you thought you’d lie to your entire family about something this important? All because you didn’t want to upset Mom?”
“I didn’t want to disappoint anyone!” I tear the baseball cap off my head and run my hand through my undoubtedly messy hair. “I thought I’d… I’d go to school and figure it out, and then, once I had something I could show as proof that I’m cut out for this field, I’d explain everything.”
“And how is that going?”
“I’m working for a professor this summer,” I snap. “And it’s hopefully going to get me into a top study abroad program. So I’d say pretty well.”
“I can’t even believe you’re the one getting defensive right now.” She laughs shortly. “You do realize that our parents help pay for that private university, right? I know you got a scholarship, but it’s not like they contribute nothing. All so you could go to an accelerated teaching program.”
Shit. I forgot that one of my fake selling points for McKee was the ability to fast-track and get the teaching masters you need for certification all in one program, rather than go to a separate graduate school after undergrad. To be honest, I barely thought about it then, and now, I’ve been too busy dreaming about dissertations and NASA projects and coordinating with engineers to give it a thought.
“Do you even hear yourself? You sound just like Mom. She said enough negative things about law school that you gave up and did exactly what she wanted.”
“This is not about me and my choices.” Her voice is as hard as granite. “This is about me realizing that my sister is an ungrateful liar.”
Tears burn in my eyes, but I’m not going to cry. Not here, and not because of my sister. “Did you tell anyone yet?”
“No. I wanted to hear about it from you first.” She sighs deeply. “But you have to tell them, Mia. Soon. Tell them at the barbecue.”
“Are you insane?”
“You never come home otherwise.” I hear the hurt in her voice, and it makes my heart ache, even as I want to rail against her and how unfair she’s being. “Were you planning on ditching the barbecue, too? Lying about something coming up with your fake job?”
“No,” I say, fighting to keep my voice unaffected. “No, I’ll be there.”
“Tell Mom and Dad the truth. I’ll keep your secret until the barbecue, but only until then. I have to go.”
“Wait, Gi—”
She hangs up before I can finish.
