Page 30 of Stealing Summer

“Miss you more.” I sighed. Her words were like a breath of fresh air, and hearing from her always made my day brighter.

Later that evening, the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the baseball field as Boston gripped the bat tightly in his hands. My parents sat in the stands next to me eagerly watching.

“Strike!” The umpire’s voice cut through the haze like a knife, and I realized he just missed the first pitch.

“Come on, bro, you got this,” Parker called out encouragingly from the dugout as he readied himself for the next pitch.

The ball soared through the air, and he swung. The satisfying crack of the bat connected with the ball and I was relieved for a moment until I watched it fly straight into the left fielder’s glove.

“Shit.” I sighed as I watched him walk back toward the dugout, looking pissed at his performance.

I spotted Reese in the dugout, propped against the fence with a smirk on his face, and Boston heading straight toward him.

“What the hell is your problem?” Boston shouted, throwing off his helmet and tossing his bat aside.

“My problem? Nah. I think you’re the one with the problem.” Reese jeered. “I think you can’t handle the pressure that comes with being on this team. You should probably save yourself the embarrassment and quit.”

“Shut up, Reese,” Boston growled, stepping closer to him. His fist was clenched, as if resisting the urge to punch him in the face.

“Or what?” Reese shot back, shoving Boston forcefully in the chest. Boston’s restraint snapped, and he shoved him back even harder.

Parker, and two of their teammates, Bailey and Crew, rushed in, pulling Reese and Boston away from each other before it could escalate further, but they were both still trying to push through to get to each other.

“Enough!” Coach Levy roared, storming over to them with a furious expression. His dark hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead as he stood between them. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you two, but if you ever bring it to the field again, I’ll replace you both without a second thought! Understood?”

“Understood,” Boston responded, avoiding his piercing glare. Reese stayed silent, his jaw clenched, and his eyes still locked onto Boston’s.

“Good,” Coach Levy nodded with a stern expression. “Now get the hell out of my sight. You’re both done.”

I watched from the bleachers, my heart raced as Boston and Reese were thrown out of the game. Boston’s usually happy-go-lucky face was tight with frustration. His piercing blue eyes were now stormy. Reese just smirked and tossed the ball up in the air, catching it with carefree ease.

“What just happened?” Dad’s voice was rough with disbelief as he rose to his feet, every line of his body rigid with frustration.

“Not again,” Mom added, her lips pressed into a thin line. She always had a way of saying so much with so little. Her disappointment was obvious.

I watched them navigate their way through the sea of legs, making a beeline toward Boston.

The scene that unfolded before me tore open a memory, the one I knew Mom had remembered as well. Boston was up to bat while Reese was pitching on the other team a few summers back.

“Strike him out, Reese!” someone had shouted from the dugout, their words slicing through the humid summer air.

“Come on, Boston, show him what you’ve got!” my dad called out, but his encouragement was drowned in the jeers from the other team.

Reese wound up, and with a swift motion, he sent the ball spinning towards home plate. Boston swung with all he had, but the crack of the bat never came—only the slap of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt. Strike three. Boston’s shoulders slumped as he turned away from the plate.

Reese and a couple of his teammates heckled Boston, laughing and saying remarks I couldn’t quite hear from where I was sitting.

After the game, Parker and Boston were gathering their things and several players, including Reese, approached them from the other team.

“Watch where you’re going,” one of them said to Boston.

Boston clenched his fists. “You need to get out of my face.”

“Or what?” Reese took a threatening step toward him. “You gonna do something about it?”

That was it. Boston launched himself at Reese, taking him to the ground. They went at it, rolling in the dirt. Parker and the rest of their teammates quickly jumped in. Soon it was an all-out brawl between both teams.

Fists flew as both sides exchanged blows. Coaches and parents rushed over to break up the chaos. When they were finally separated, Boston stood breathing hard, his uniform covered in dust and dirt. Reese glared at him, his nose was bleeding.

---