The Golden Couple

Chap. 46

"So this is the activity schedule for the first week," I informed Mrs. Wilcott, handing her the manila folder.

"Sophie," she mused, opening the folder and flipping through it. "Always on top of things."

"Well summer is only two weeks away," I pointed out.

"How did your AP testing go dear?"

"Okay hopefully."

She chuckled, placing my schedule down on the table next to her. "Knowing you, it went fine. And your finals? Are those coming up soon?"

"Next week," I informed her.

"And I'm sure you're going to do great on those too," she encouraged. "Don't stress yourself too much with the camp until you complete your schoolwork."

"I won't," I promised, with a smile.

"We have a new member joining us this summer, I presume you read the email?"

I let out a groan, flopping down in the chair behind me. "I think we all did."

Mrs. Wilcott laughed. "What's the matter with the Anderson boy? He seemed nice enough."

"He's a pain. And I can't handle working with Clayton Johnson and Steven Anderson all summer."

She laughed again. "You and Clayton have known each other too long now to continue on with your incessant banter."

"He starts it!" I defended.

"Sophie Allen, I know you well enough to know that you are no angel."

I laughed again, shaking my head. "Okay, well maybe I'm not innocent. But he gets on my nerves."

"The boy's been through a lot," Mrs. Wilcott said, pursing her lips.

She used to tell me that after I'd rip on Clayton in front of her, and she'd send Clayton off to do something for her just to separate us.

I didn't understand it at the time, but now it made a lot more sense.

"I know," I agreed.

She raised her eyebrows at me.

"But he's still annoying."

She laughed, picking up my activity schedule again. "Go on and get to studying. I'll get the supplies together."

"No," I declined, standing up. "I'm here for the day. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Mrs. Wilcott gave me a look, and I just smiled.

"Well alright," she agreed, with a sigh. "If you're insistent about it, go on into the storage room and let's get started."

~*~

"I work twice as hard as him," Bryce continued to rant. "I condition on my off-days, I go to the fields on Sundays and pitch the shit out of my shoulder, I do everything I can do get ahead."

"You had brain surgery," I reminded him. "And then you were out of baseball for over three months. You can't just walk back into it. You have to work at it."

Bryce readjusted the ice pack on his shoulder, clearly frustrated with my advice, mostly because it's not what he wanted to hear.

"Preston isn't even that good," Bryce stated.

"Well then prove it on the field."

I heard the front door open, and I looked over at Bryce.

"My mom's home," he explained, glancing over his shoulder.