Of course I didn't leave him alone for shit.

I walked with him to the field. He thought I was trying to make sure that he made it into it and actually tried out. It was at that point, when he joined the drills despite not having the proper clothes or shoes, that he realized I was staying.

I stood next to my dad, beaming. So pleased with myself that the satisfaction was probably going to turn me supernova soon and I would explode in a confetti of I told you so's. He couldn't stand my shit-eating grin, so he left me to go look at the guys up close and give them tips on how to suck less. Anthony flashed me a thumbs up when he caught his breath after a grueling set of laps. I gave him the devil horns.

He was pretty good. If it were up to me I would move him from outfield to shortstop. He had the speed and tenacity for the job. I went into the dugout and pulled out my brand new notepad and pen and started making annotations.

Anthony varsity shortstop. Chris as backup catcher in varsity. Santiago unquestionable cleanup. Maurice made a great first base. I looked up as Jared McCann ran into my field of vision. I couldn't help but gag. He'd been vying for the ace position since he was a freshman and Sebastian was already beating records. He'd stood no chance against raw talent, but on top of that Seb had been a hard worker. As if he'd always been conscious that raw talent alone would not get him far enough. Despite everything, McCann was a good pitcher.

I looked up to the sky, darkening in portions and shining with swashes of bright pinks and oranges in others. I hoped he'd be proud of me for getting his lazy-ass of a brother into the field again.

Then I looked at the lazy-ass. He was doing well in the drills. Nothing exceptional except for the fact that his body was in such a good shape that it was able to remember the motions, even as his brain remained switched off. And I could tell that it was switched off. His eyes looked all but dead except when he caught a glance of me in the sidelines. Then they turned vaguely murderous.

I just smiled at him.

My dad finally deigned to grace me with his presence and address the elephant in the diamond. "Good job on bringing him back."

"You owe me," I made sure to tell him without giving him a break. He grunted.

"Here's the deal, Peyton." My dad turned to me. "You did well on making him try out, that's true. But he's not putting it his all. If he doesn't, I can't consider him for varsity."

My arms slackened and my notepad and pen fell to the ground. "You can't be serious."

"What I can't do is play favorites." He bent down to pick up my stuff and give them to me, then stuck his hands in his pockets. "I know what he's capable of, but I can't coax that out of him if he won't let me. He'll be in JV."

"He's in his senior year," I hissed at him. "His last year. He has to impress college recruiters. You can't take this away from him."

My dad squeezed my shoulder. "I'm not the one taking the opportunity from him, honey bunny."

The tryouts ended shortly after and everybody started going home. I planted myself firmly in front of Santi, blocking his path no matter where he tried to step to.

He finally gave up. "What do you want now?"

"You," I said, pointing at his chest. "You're doing more drills."

Anthony whistled. "Dude, enjoy that redhead attention."

We both told him to stick it where it hurt.

"I'm going home," Santiago informed me. "It's getting dark and I want to make it to dinner."

"Don't worry, I already texted your mom that I'll drive you home."

He stared me down. I could read his mind wishing that his eyes would suddenly develop laser beams. "I already did what you wanted and you sad you'd leave me alone."

"This is not what I wanted!" I shouted. "What I want is for you to give it your all and not half ass it."

"I didn't half ass it, I'm just out of shape."

Swift as a goddamn rabbit, I lifted his t-shirt and motioned at his freaking washboard abs.

Oh my god, Santiago had washboard abs.

I let that thought go and focused on my point. "You call this out of shape?" I sounded shrill even to my own ears, but I hadn't been expecting my point to be proven so beautifully. He pulled his t-shirt down with a sigh. "You have to get into varsity and your performance today barely cut it JV. We still have a chance of convincing my dad to put you were you belong but you have to-"

"Stop." Santi took a step back. "Stop trying to force me to do things I'm not ready for."

I cocked my head. "What the fuck are you talking about? You were varsity last year."

"Yeah and my brother was alive last year. Things change."

Now I took a step back. That felt like a physical blow.

We didn't talk for a while. The sky grew darker and a breeze picked up. When I looked back at him his eyes were squeezed shut with such force as if to hold back tears.

"It's okay to cry," I told him. "God knows I've cried entire rivers."

He opened them at the same time as the overhead lights turned on. I was blinded for a second. When I focused again he turned his back to me and sat on the sand, looking at the mound. I joined right beside him. He wasn't crying, not outwardly at least.

"I played ball in the streets over the summer," he said, raising his knees and resting his arms on them. "I couldn't touch a ball, you know, after the accident. But when I was there... I was far enough. It didn't matter to any of the kids down there what had happened. All they knew was that I was the gringo who spoke Spanish and could play."

I smiled a little. "Were they good?"

He grunted. "Real good. Some of these stooges don't hold a candle."

"It must be in the DNA."

He looked at me then. "I know it's in mine, I'm just..."

"Afraid of how great you are?"

He licked his lower lip and looked at the mound again. "No. Afraid of not measuring up, I guess."

"Santiago Miranda," I said, shifting so I could face him. "Are you jealous of your brother post mortem?"

He flinched. "You're making me sound like a douche."

"An insecure douche, maybe." I mused it for a second. The empty mound was really painful to look at. I could imagine Seb laughing at our conversation, making sure to let us know how stupid he believed we were. "I mean, I can't blame you. The green eyed monster has lived in me ever since you guys left me in the dust."

He motioned at his eyes. "I am the green eyed monster."

I elbowed him softly, just enough to nudge him out of the idiocy. "No, no. This is good. Here I've been thinking all along that you were some inhuman genius but it turns out you're just as insecure as the rest of them. But wanna know the fun stuff?"

After a pause he indulged me in asking, "What's the fun stuff?"

"Sebastian was jealous of you."

That threw him off. It threw him all the way off balance and he fell away from me on his side. "Don't be blasphemous with the dead."

"It's true." I laid on my back and looked up at the first stars that were appearing on the sky. One of them twinkled brighter and I sent it an air kiss, hoping it would get it to Seb somehow. "Remember the home run against Mayfield High?"

"Vaguely."

"He told me that night that he couldn't have done that. You were the only one who could read that pitcher's low curve. What was his name?"

"Byron Johnson."

I twisted my face to side-glance him, but he was still sitting with his back to me. "We won that night 1-0. They shut him out, but you batted that ball out of the park. And you were just a sophomore."

He turned back to look at me with a frown. "That's bullshit. They didn't shut him out. He shut them out. They didn't get a single run off of him."

"Sure, but the point is that he admired you. You were his rival. You can do things he couldn't, and the other way around." I smiled at him. "No offense but your pitching sucks. You barely cut it as a catcher."

He laid down, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off of him, and put his hands under his head. His biceps were huge and his arms corded with strength. I'd bet he could bat a homer out of a pro.

"Did you get many homeruns when you were playing in the streets of Caracas?"

That got a surprise smile out of him and I savored it. "I broke a few windows."

"What else did you do?"

"This one time I was running to slide to base, but didn't see the hole in the asphalt midway. I stumbled and fell downhill. Later they told me I almost got ran over by a motorbike."

"Oh my god!" I jumped on all fours to examine him, even though the rational part of me knew that he was fine. I hadn't seen him limp and he certainly wasn't missing key parts. "Are you okay?"

He grabbed my hands to keep them from roaming. "Um, yeah. I thought you'd noticed."

"Are all your stories about the summer so horrifying?"

He cocked his head, regardless of the red sand he swept with his hair when he did so. A strange glint lit up his eyes, and even though it scared me a little I liked it. At least they didn't look like dead fish eyes anymore. "Well, no. I did have some fun."

"Playing ball?"

"Playing with girls, more like."

"Huh." I sat back on my haunches, even though he didn't let go of my hands yet and the position was uncomfortable as hell. I didn't let him go either. "No wonder you seemed so practiced with Bring It On earlier."

Santi laughed a short laugh and pulled me closer. He settled me next to him, my head on his shoulder. "Jealous?"

I snuggled closer to him, wrapping one leg around his. I sighed; it had been forever since we were this close. "Shocked, more like. I didn't know you had it in you."

His chest vibrated with something between a huff and a laugh. "My brother was the chick magnet, for sure, but it's not like I repel them."

I rolled my eyes.

Both Miranda brothers were lookers. Tall, built, tan and cocky. Well, that description fit Sebastian better. I wouldn't call Santiago cocky. I was in a bathroom stall once when I heard a girl in my class describe him as the dark and alluring one.

Sebastian had left a string of broken hearts in his wake, way before the accident. His prowess on the field had for sure influenced his success off of it with girls. One after the other, to the point that it seemed like every pretty girl had been with him at some point. Even beyond the borders of our Metro High. Trinity High School girls had showed up at his funeral, after all. How he'd managed to get with girls from a Catholic boarding school remained a mystery.

But he never had a serious girlfriend.

In contrast, I'd never heard stories about Santiago. I knew he had admirers here and there, but no juicy gossip had come out of that.

"Santiago?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you a virgin?"

He choked. I had to pull away from him because his body shook violently. I waited for the fit to settle down, pressing my knuckles into my lips because I wanted to laugh so bad. I didn't know why I blurted that out, but after the words left my lips I realized I was curious. I wanted to know. He would never tell me unless I forced it out of him, as usual.

He finally gasped for air. Tears were running down his cheeks. The shock must have been such that suddenly he started laughing.

And laughing.

It must have been a year since I last heard that. It was husky and rough, as if he hadn't used his vocal chords to full capacity in a year. He had trouble breathing. I couldn't help it, I started laughing too.

"No, but for real." I insisted. I wouldn't let him think he could get off the hook. "Are you?"

"I, uh." He cleared his throat. "What the hell?"

I shrugged. "I'm just curious. Before today I would have thought you were."

"I'm offended now."

I raised my hands in defense. "Well, it's not like there was a different girl hanging off your arm every week like a certain someone. In fact, I don't recall you talking with a lot of girls before."

He folded his arms. "I am, in fact, not a virgin. I haven't been for a while."

My jaw hung. "A while?"

"How would you feel if I asked you the same? You'd probably kick my teeth in."

"How long is a while?"

"You really wanna know?" He looked at me intently. I wouldn't say the laser beams were back, but it felt hot all the same. "Really?" I nodded. "A while is approximately a year and a half ago."

"No way." I drew the last word out so long that it took my entire breath away. "And I wouldn't care if you asked me, by the way." I said, standing up and brushing the dust off of my ass as best as I could. He coughed and stood up, too. I guessed he swallowed some. Oops.

"Oh yeah? So, are you a virgin then?"

"The answer is very simple." His eyebrows went up and I smiled. "It's none of your business. Now let's go, or we're going to be late for dinner."

He sulked the entire ride home.