She drops her voice to a whisper. “I’m hiding.”

“From who?”

“Kale. He tried to kiss me. He hasn’t brushed his teeth since we got here, I don’t think. Or maybe he has cavities. Anyway, his breath is bad. And his beard—I don’t like it. It’s not soft like yours was during playoffs. I like your beard. It feels nice on my nipples.” She strokes along her collarbone. She might be wearing a dress, but I can only see from her shoulders up. “I like you a lot, Miller. Everyone thinks I shouldn’t. Except Violet and my mom. She thinks you’re perfect and that you’ll take care me, but I can take care of me. Lily tells me I’m gonna get hurt, and maybe she’s right, but I don’t wanna listen because I want to be with you, but sometimes it’s so hard.”

Her candidness gives me a lot to process. There’s a quick burst of noise. Country music and male voices filter through the phone, along with a flush and the sound of water running.

“Sunny, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you in the men’s bathroom?”

“Uh-huh. No one will look for me here ’cause I have a cookie, not a penis.”

She’d be funny if I was there to take care of her. I’m angry at Lily for not being a better friend and Patch McBushman for making her feel like she needs to hide. “You need to get out of there, sweets.”

“I can’t. There are urinals. Men pee in rows. It’s weird—like cows feeding at a trough, but they’re peeing. They’re right outside the stall. I’ll see penises. Or is it peni? I don’t know what the plural is.” Her eyes are wide with drunken horror. “I only want to look at your penis.”

“I’m glad you feel that way. But the men’s bathroom isn’t a good place for you to be. Just cover your eyes and head for the door.”

She takes a couple of deep breaths.

“You can do it, Sunny. I’d come get you if I could. Camp’s done tomorrow. I’ll come as soon as the kids leave.”

“I don’t need you to save me, Miller. I’m self-succinct.”

I think she means self-sufficient, but she’s mixing up her words. “I know that. I’m just worried, and I don’t like that you’re upset. I want to be there to make it better.”

She licks her lips. “I like it when you make it better. Better always feels good.”

“I’ll make you feel really good when I see you, ’kay?” I hope it’s loud enough in the bathroom that no one else can hear our conversation.

“Okay. Maybe. First I want to be mad about the picture of you and that girl who looks like me.”

“That’s cool. You can be upset about that. We’ll talk about lots of stuff.” We both have things to be unhappy about. “You gonna get out of that bathroom, now?”

“Okay.” She nods, resolved. “I’m gonna put you in my bra.”

“I love being in your bra.”

“I know. Oh, wait. I’m not wearing a bra. Hmm. I’ll put you in my underwear.”

“Even better.”

She’s definitely wearing a dress. She stands and hikes it to her waist, shoving the phone down the front. It’s the closest I’ve been to her pussy in a week.

There’s a rattling sound, then Sunny panicking. I try to tell her to calm down, but since I’m in her underwear, she can’t hear me. All of a sudden there’s a loud slam. Deep voices issue shouts of surprise and a couple of whistles.

“Sunny? What are you doing in here?” I know that voice. It’s Patch McBushman.

There’s some fumbling and arguing. The music gets obnoxiously loud, then there’s crunching. Gravel, maybe. More muffled talking. All of a sudden it’s not dark anymore. Sunny’s phone drops out of her underwear and onto the floor of the trailer. I can see her legs and her panties. They have little flowers on them.

A hand covers the screen like a spider. It’s not Sunny’s face I’m met with afterwards. I almost gag; it’s Bushman.

I point at him. “I’m coming for you.”

He might smirk, but I can’t tell because his beard covers his mouth. “Come on, Sunny Bunny. Let’s get you into bed.”

“Don’t call me that! Hey, where’s my phone? Give me that.”

He ends the call before I can say another word. I try to call back, but I get voice mail.

It’s on. I’m gonna take that fucker and his stinky breath down.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

DEFLATED

The next morning I get up early, partly because I can’t stop thinking about Sunny, and partly because my balls hurt, and I have to pee. I head to the bathroom, still hobbling, but not quite as bad as I was last night. I’m unhappy to see that my balls are still bigger than they should be when I free the lightning rod. The swelling hasn’t gone down the way I’d hoped it would overnight.

I stop by the medical clinic before breakfast. I’ll get another shot of antihistamine, participate in closing activities, and get my ass to Sunny.

I drop my drawers; Nurse Debbie’s expression remains neutral as she inspects the situation.

“Shouldn’t the swelling have gone down more than this?” I ask.

“It’s not the swelling that’s the issue. It’s the fluid.”

“Fluid?”

“Sometimes this happens, especially when there’s an allergic reaction to the bite. The site fills with fluid.”

“Like a blister?”

“That’s a reasonable comparison, yes.”

“Okay. So will it go down on its own?” I can’t be walking around with balls the size of grapefruits. And I have a long drive ahead of me. Sitting isn’t going to be comfortable like this. Most importantly, I need my parts to work again. Soon.

“Eventually, yes.”

“How long is eventually?”

“It could take a few days, maybe longer.”

“That’s no good. Isn’t there something we can do? Something you can give me?”

Nurse Debbie clears her throat and looks at her clipboard. “The antibiotics I gave you last night should help. There’s another option—”

I slap my thighs. “Well, what is it? Anything is better than having a giant nut sac.”

“I can drain the bite.”

“Drain it?”

She nods. “That will definitely alleviate swelling.”

“So you’d do that by . . .” I let the question hang. I have a feeling I already know the answer. There’s only one way to drain fluid.

“Using a needle.”

“Right. Okay.”

I run my hands up and down my thighs. My stomach feels like it’s hanging out in my toes. I’ve had stitches plenty of times without any freezing. I’ve watched the team doctor put a huge needle in a gaping wound on my arm, and it didn’t even faze me. But a needle in the balls is different. They’re attached to the center of my universe.

“My balls will go back to being their regular size?”

“It should help significantly.”

“I’ll be in working order sooner?”

“You should be if you take it easy and don’t overexert yourself. You’ll have to sit out today, and no strenuous activity for the next few days.”

“What’s considered strenuous?”

“Anything high impact. I’m also recommending that you wear briefs to reduce friction.”

“I’ll get briefs today.” I can make sex with Sunny low impact if I need to for a few days. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“If you’re sure.” She’s giving me an out.

I can’t take it now even if I want to. “I’m sure.”

“I’ll numb the site first.”

“Sounds good.” I’m not above making this more manageable.

Nurse Debbie gives me another one of those hospital gowns to change in to. It’s ironic that she gives me privacy for that, since she’ll be spending time with my nuts again shortly, but I put it on and sit back down. I have to keep my legs spread so I have enough room for my swollen parts. After the numbing, Nurse Debbie leaves me alone again while we wait for it to take effect.

Since there’s no one else around, I use the voice-to-text function to send Sunny a message. I honestly don’t know why people bother typing. This is so much easier.

How are you feeling this morning?