Page 18 of The Best Friend and the Shortstop

I keep walking, satisfied enough that if this look is hot to anyone, it would be Alex. I’ve caught him checking out my ass before in these jeans. And maybe he’s been up all night thinking, too. I hold on to the positive thought that anything—meaning a world where Alex admits to always loving me as well—is possible. That bubble stays intact all the way to the stadium. Until I see Alicia sitting in the very spot I like to sit. Always. For every game.

I make a dead stop on the small concourse on the third base side, and Omar catches on a few steps ahead of me. He follows my gaze to my nemesis, who he is well versed in thanks to many late nights of box wine and cheesecake.

“Please don’t get in a fight. I know I look strong, but I really don’t want to get punched.” His head swivels as he glances back to Alicia’s profile then again to me.

“I don’t think the five-two girl is picking a fight with the six-two mass of male muscle, but I’ll keep it in check.” My eyes flutter closed before I get a chance to roll them with my sarcasm.

“You did say he invited her,” Omar reminds me.

“Yeah, to the game! Not practice. And I swore she wouldn’t come. And here we are. Thanks for getting me caught up on the facts.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and look down at my feet as I let out a heavy sigh and hold up my hand.

“I’m sorry. That was bitchy.”

“It was. But I forgive you. Come on. Let’s pick some new favorite seats.” Omar loops his arm in mine and we travel to the opposite side, which means I’ll be watching Alex hit from behind.

My base instincts never mind this vantage point, but the best friend part of my core prefers to be able to watch his mechanics. I’m sure he wants me to record his swings. My cloud storage basically houses his future documentary tape, given how much gameplay and other Alex practice video I have saved. He likes to look at his swing and break it down, find areas for improvement, or hints at what could be going wrong. To me, that part always feels like self-abuse, watching a failure over and over again. But it’s what Alex’s dad taught him, and despite the rift in their relationship, it’s a practice he adheres to. I was filming batting practice in the tunnels for him last week.

Omar and I slip into a pair of seats about ten rows up behind the dugout. I take the aisle so I can run down and sit closer to video when Alex is up. Unfortunately, this spot also means I’m practically staring at Alicia while she taps away at her phone, her feet crossed on the armrest of the seat in front of hers. She shouldn’t get credit for being here.

“Stop it,” Omar says, nudging my knee with his.

“I can’t.”

“I know. But try.”

He’s right. I nod my head and retrain my focus to the field. Cole was hitting when we walked up which means Alex’s group should be next. Brayden must have pitched to the first group because his arm is wrapped with ice. I’m sure they’re playing it safe with him to keep his arm healthy for opening day. I catch his eye as he leans forward to spit out some seeds, and he awkwardly lifts his wrapped arm to say hi. I laugh softly and hold up an open palm in return.

“Are we flirting with the enemy?” Omar jests.

“God, no. Just being nice.” I drop my hand to rest on my thigh and redirect my focus to the familiar shortstop taking practice swings behind home plate.

When Alex pauses, I scoot to the edge of my seat and sit up tall in an effort to get his attention. He squints against the harsh afternoon sun that reflects off of the puffy clouds. It’s strange how it can be so sunny yet so freezing cold. He’s scanning my usual section, and thankfully Alicia is still typing away on her phone and misses him spotting her. I’m not sure my mouth is strong enough to remain shut if she does that bunchy hand wave thing to him right now. Alex continues to scan the seats, which are mostly empty except for a few clusters of parents, a student reporter, and some diehard local fans. He nods when our eyes finally meet, and I hold up my phone. He gives me a thumbs up then holds up two fingers, I think letting me know he’ll hit second in his group.

“I’m going to scoot down close to video. I’ll be right back,” I say to Omar, who waves me on. His attention has drifted to the lacrosse field, where practice seems to be wrapping up.

I plant myself right above the dugout, just out of the coach’s view. Resting my elbows on the concrete surface, I frame my shot while the first batter takes his swings. The hitting turtle backstop limits my angle, but I manage to find the right spot to get a clear shot of Alex’s footwork. Too bad he can’t switch hit and take a few swings from the right for me. I’ve never understood how he could throw with one hand but hit from the opposite side only. It’s another habit influenced by his father’s coaching, and now it’s set in stone.

I check my focus one last time, change around a few settings, and notice movement in the background. I keep that part blurry on camera, but when I look up, I manage to catch Brayden talking to another pitcher outside the other dugout. He seems to be showing him a grip technique. It’s rare to see him give advice to anyone unless it’s how to properly admire him. I snicker to myself at that thought.

When it’s finally Alex’s turn, I start recording early to make sure I get the focus right before he starts taking swings. I’m so focused on him that I don’t realize they’ve switched pitchers too. But the second Alex takes his first hack, swinging for the fences on a slider that runs away from him, I become keenly interested in who could have thrown something by him.

It’s the guy Brayden was giving tips to, and it seems he’s got some good stuff. All well and good for him, I’m sure, as he’s probably trying to work into a solid spot in the bullpen. But for a slugger who’s trying to pull himself out of a slump, having a pitcher show off is not great timing.

“Come on, Alex. Dig deep,” I mutter, not even caring that he’ll hear it when he watches this back later.

I study him through my phone screen, opting to watch his swings through the filter of my phone rather than in real life right in front of me. I’m afraid I’ll shift and not get him in frame because I tend to twist my torso along with him when he hits. Pitch after pitch, I find I’m twisting less as Alex takes one rough swing after another. He fouls about six pitches into the third base dugout, one whizzing by Brayden’s head. He manages to work a full count, but ultimately, the hotshot on the mound dishes him the same pitch he started with, and Alex’s legs crumple as he swings at a ball that trails at least four balls outside.

“Dammit,” I utter after stopping the recording.

Alex’s nostrils flare as he rounds the backstop. His gaze passes over me, our eyes locking for the briefest moment, just long enough for me to catch the glossiness. He’s letting his frustration take over everything, and I haven’t seen this happen to him since we were teenagers and he was fighting for an all-star bid in the playoffs.

I get up from my crouching position and slide back into the seat, glancing over my shoulder to Omar. He lifts a shoulder in a shrug and winces. Even he knows that wasn’t Alex’s typical stuff.

I hold up a finger and mouth one more round. Omar points with his thumb over his shoulder toward the lacrosse field, where the players are packing up. I wave him on, and his ridiculously wide grin as he practically jets from his seat and rushes up the stadium steps makes me so happy for him. As long as we’ve been friends, I’ve never known Omar to be smitten with someone. He’s usually jaded about relationships, having had some pretty bad false starts.

Indulging in a quick glance to Alicia, I unfortunately make eye contact with her. She holds up a hand, but it’s obvious in her stilted movement that it’s more of an acknowledgement rather than an actual hello or good to see you. I mimic the move and hold my mouth in a tight-lipped smile, hoping to convey fuck off.

She leans forward and turns her attention to Alex as if she’s been watching him the whole time. I’d love to snoop her social media posts to see what she was really doing for the last twenty minutes but I don’t want to clear the video settings on my phone.

---