Page 41 of Totally Geeked

“Yo, watch it?” I yell, and Gordon laughs as he picks up another ball from beside the mound.

“It wasn’t even close. Come on, I need to practice my fastball. Ready?”

“Ready,” I say, and I give him the signal for a fastball, and just like in a game, he nods acceptance and then sends the ball zooming into my glove. It lands with a thwack and the slightest of stings.

“You can do better than that,” I yell, tossing this one back.

Gordon doesn’t bite back. He knows I’m right. I throw the sign again, and he pitches it right down the middle into my glove again. His precision is impressive, but his speed is off.

“You okay?” I ask, tossing the ball back again. He rolls the shoulder of his throwing arm and nods. If he’s hurt, he shouldn't be pushing it with the fastballs, and he should definitely tell the trainers.

“Try a curve,” I tell him, throwing its sign, but he frowns and shakes his head.

“Fuck off, get ready for another fastball.”

He swings his arm around twice, shrugs a few times, then readies for the pitch. It flies down as fast as I've ever seen it and lands with a sharp sting in my glove.

“Shit man, that was fast,” I say, pulling off my glove and stretching out my fingers to try to get the blood flowing through and relieving the slight ache that's settled there.

“See, just needed a few to warm up,” he yells back, and then Ryan from the Funky Monkeys jogs to his side.

They talk for a second, and then Gordon steps off the mound.

“Hey, mind if I toss you a few?” Ryan asks, and Gordon fucking winks at me. I told that asshole I wasn’t interested in anything with a player.

“Ahh, where’s Dave?”

“He’s working with Pat and John. They need to build up their accuracy throwing the ball home.

He’s not wrong. Dave, the catcher for the Funky Monkeys, had to dive for more than one of their tosses last season. I guess I can catch a few.

“Alright. Want to start with a curve or a fastball? What are you sending me?”

“Curve.”

“Right, on with it then,” I say, bouncing in my position. His curveball is good, not great, but he’s probably holding back a little, too. It’s not exactly normal to be helping the competition train.

“So, I heard you went to that art thing last year,” he says, sending another curveball my way. I have to move my glove a little left to catch it but it’s no more than you’d expect.

“Yeah, a few of us guys did. It was good,” I say, tossing the ball back.

“So you like art?”

“Some art,” I say, thinking of the amazing sketches Arlo has done of me. I still need to get that one framed and hung in my room.

“Well, there is this thing at the KOBO gallery this weekend. I was thinking maybe you might want to go?” he asks, sending aball down the line that goes so far wide I wonder if he even had his eyes open when he pitched it.

He’s got a lot of balls yelling across the pitch to ask me out. With no crowd, his voice has got to be traveling to half the players out here, but even that isn’t going to get me to agree. I want to look back at Arlo and reassure him I have no intention of saying yes, if he happened to hear him too, but that would look suspicious as hell and we’re trying to keep this on the DL, so I walk over to the mound where Ryan is holding another ball he’s picked up from the pile Gordon left behind and is rolling it between his hands, a nervous smile on his lips.

“Thanks for the invite, really,” I begin, and his cheeks start to grow a rosy pink. “I promised myself a long time ago I’d never date a player. It’s just too messy if things go belly up. You understand, don’t you?”

He forces his smile wide and nods. “Totally, I get it. It’s cool. No worries.”

“Did you want to throw a few more?” I ask, and he looks over his shoulder at his teammates practicing across the other side of the field.

“I think Dave is free now, so all good. Thanks, though,” he says and jogs off. I turn back toward where Arlo is sitting and rub the back of my head, sending him a smile. His eyebrows are raised like he did hear Ryan’s question and now he’s wondering what my answer was. He has to know I would never agree to date anyone, not now that I’m with him. I mouth,I said no,and he smiles and goes back to his sketches like nothing happened. Gordon jogs back over and slaps a hand on my shoulder.

“So, what’d you say?”

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