Varsity Rulebreaker, стр. 1

Varsity Rulebreaker

Varsity Series Book 3

Ginger Scott


1. Cannon Jennings

2. Hollis Taylor

3. Cannon

4. Hollis

5. Cannon

6. Hollis

7. Cannon

8. Hollis

9. Cannon

10. Hollis

11. Cannon

12. Hollis

13. Cannon

14. Hollis

15. Cannon

16. Hollis

17. Cannon

18. Hollis

19. Cannon

20. Hollis

21. Cannon

22. Hollis


Series Epilogue


Also By Ginger Scott

About the Author

Copyright 2020

Ginger Scott, Little Miss Write LLC

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Ginger Scott, Little Miss Write LLC

Cover photo by Michelle Lancaster

Cover model Andy Murray

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-952778-02-5

Print ISBN: 978-1-952778-05-6

For Ruthie.

I could not have done this without you.


Cannon Jennings

I’m perfectly content ringing in the new year with a sparkler and leftover pizza. Unfortunately, my cousin Zack is an extrovert. He needs to feed off the energy of others. I prefer to eliminate distractions.

“It’s one party, Can. You need to pull the stick out of your ass and enjoy one night. One party will not derail your future.”

Zack has been on me about loosening up for weeks. Deep down, he’s probably right . . . to an extent. If I keep grinding like this through my entire senior year, I’ll burn out before I even land at summer camp wherever I get signed. But when you’ve dreamed of pitching for Vandy since you were six years old and it’s legit within your reach, it’s hard to let up off the gas, even just a little.

“Come on, man. It’s New Year’s Eve.” Zack’s head falls to one side and his lip juts out.

“Are you gonna fuckin’ cry?” I toss my glove to the corner of the sofa and get to my feet. Zack rubs his hands together while shuffling his feet in this weird-ass jig.

“I’m not going if you’re going to do that,” I say, pointing at his lower half. He freezes and instantly stands tall, rolling his shoulders and clearing his throat.

“Sorry. Must have been overcome with shock that Cannon Jennings is actually going to do something social,” he says.

“Pfft,” I huff at him. I grab my keys and my lucky hat and we both head out to my car.

Zack is overexaggerating. I’ve been social. I went to a party a week ago, and I’ve made some decent friends. I’ve done pretty well for being the new guy at school. I moved in with my cousin over the summer as part of the grand plan my dad and my uncle, Zack’s dad, devised to maximize the attention we both could get for offers to play college ball. Zack has caught for as long as I have pitched, and we used to play together when we were younger. But Zack’s family moved to Indiana for work right after junior high, and it broke up our dream duo. We’ve both done all right without the other, but we’ve got one more year to really show our stuff, and Allensville Public High just hired a new coach—with Division One coaching experience. It means I’m sleeping on the futon in the spare room at Zack’s while my parents sell our place in New Mexico. Once they do, we’ll move into a rental together—and I’ll have a bed that doesn’t fold up during the day.

“I don’t know June very well,” I mention as we pull up to the Mabee house. We only live two blocks from them, so the drive was easy.

“Yeah, but you know Lucas, so it’s all good,” Zack reassures me.

He gets out of the car with an actual skip in his step, still cradling the six-pack of micro brew he snuck from his dad.

I let myself enjoy the quiet of the car for one more breath. He’s right. I’ve gotten to know Lucas pretty well, and the D’Angelo twins. They’re all pretty decent athletes, and it’s nice to mess around and do things with a group of guys who aren’t all about baseball. I gel with Tory D’Angelo the most. He’s got plans to play basketball in college, so he gets my constant focus. I swear, as much as my cousin Zack says he wants to play college ball, he doesn’t seem to have the obsessive passion that I think it takes.

My cousin raps on the window, tired of waiting on me, so I get out and put on my best happy-to-be-here face.

It’s a strange collection of people inside. Someone who clearly is someone’s father opens the door for us, and he eyes the beer in Zack’s hand as we enter.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have brought beer,” I whisper to my cousin, but he ignores me, weaving through the house and into the garage, where an extra refrigerator is stuffed with drinks. He pulls a beer out and hands it to me, taking one for himself, too. I arch a brow, not sure this is allowed.

“It’s fine. June said as long as we don’t make it obvious around the adults, we’re good to go.” Zack pops the cap off and takes a swig, gesturing for me to do the same. I do, but only because drinking half this beer might settle the knots in my chest. I’m not so great at social things.

We weave through the house to the back yard where I recognize more faces. My shoulders relax when I spot Lucas sitting near the fire pit with space next to him. I nod in his direction, letting Zack know where he can find me, and head toward the flames. Lucas’s girlfriend, June, beats me to the open seat by two