Second Chance by Katie Kacvinsky

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“What is that glorious smell?” Bubba asks .
“Dinner,” Dylan says as she wipes some f lour off her arm . “I hope you’re not mad, ” she says , her eyes directed at me.
“ How did you get in? ” I ask.
“ You left your bedroom door unlocked. ”
I narrow my eyes . “So unlawful entry is justified if it comes with a home cooked meal?” I ask her . I frown at her smile, her thoughtful gesture, her appearance in general . “Since when do you cook?” I ask.
“Ha,” she says . “ Me ? Cook ? That’s just a fire hazard. ”  
Before I can respond, out walks Lenny, holding a steaming pot of lasagna in hands covered with red oven mitts . I didn’t even know we owned oven mitts .
“ Dinner’s ready , ” Lenny says .
The guys pass us to get to the kitchen , shoving each other like little kids running to get to the front of the lunch line . I notice Travis give Dylan a double take . I watch her closely and I don’t know if I should be happy she’s here, or angry . But I’m not surprised . She turns and heads back to the kitchen with her bouncy gait .
I drop my bag and follow her , annoyed that something has so naturally shifted . In the room . Inside of me .
 
 
***
 
 
Dinner is amazing — homemade garlic br ead and lasagna . They found enough extra chairs in our basement so we could have a meal around the table . Dyl an folded napkins under our mis matched silverware . She lit two candles on the table for ambiance . She claims she found the candles in the kitchen cupboard but none of the guys will fess up to owning them .
“ This was fantastic, Lenn y,” Miles says and she tries to hide her pride in the fact that five ravenous guys have inhaled every scrap of food on the table .  
Bubba pats his full stom ach and asks Lenny to marry him. I catch Lenny blush . She’s always had a thing for Native American guys . It never occurred to me that Bubba is completely her type . I also notice Travis’ s eyes scanning Dylan’s face one too many times . But he couldn’t be attracted to her . She’s a m ess, with her hair falling out o f her pigtails and she’s still wearing that stupid apron .
Dylan wants to talk about the game , but s he doesn’t ask the score or how many base hits we had , all the normal questions you’d expect . S he wants to k now why the dugout is called the dugout , and what we think while we’re running the bases , and if we could play for any pro team who would it be , and what exactly is a Lobo , and if we couldn’t play baseball again, ever, what would we do with our lives ?
I just listen because this is the Dylan I missed . I spend most of the meal watching her eyes absorb ev ery face around her , and watch ing her mind absorb every word . S he’s so good at b eing right there, in the moment.
I look around the room at all these eyes on her and realize there’s safety in numbers . Maybe I can handle having Dylan back in my life if I keep it to big groups . I just have to avoid being alone with her . That’s when I feel the force of her energy seep through my skin . That’s when she plants herself deep in my veins, like she’s part of my blood stream . When her energy is widely dispersed, like right now, it doesn’t trap me .
This is my new survival plan .
Travis leans forward and gives Dylan his full attention . He focuses h is green eyes on hers , hitting her with a gaze I’ve seen girls fall to mush under . I’ve heard girls nickname him the Best Catch , not only because he’s our catcher , but because he’s 6’ 2 ” and single . I have to admit it, he’s an amazing player . He can cover any position in a pinch . Even though he’s tall, he can run the bases as well as the sprinters . He has the most home runs of the season . He’s more than aware of his skills , so he’s awarded hims elf a reputation equivalent to God .
“What do you do?” Travis asks Dylan in a tone that is more interrogating than f riendly . I glance at Dylan but she isn’t