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thirteen

Knox

I spent a lotof time getting to know Harlow during our series against the Thunderbirds in Atlanta. After that first night, she’s been in much better spirits, choosing to ignore anything she sees about herself online.

I still feel like a dick, though, even putting her in this situation in the first place. She’s an adult and can make her own decisions, I get that, but I feel like I should have donemoreto prepare her for the onslaught of attention, positive and negative, she’d be met with. But she’s taking it in stride now, focusing solely on her blog and what she can do with the traffic that should be coming her way.

We all landed in Houston Thursday night after our game to prep for a three-game series against the Comets. Last night’s game was a blowout, unfortunately. Su-jin Choi, one of the other starting pitchers in our rotation, wasn’t in his best form. He only lasted three innings before Skip pulled him. Every pitcher has been there before, and it fucking sucks. We couldn’t squeak out a win since we never could overcome the Comets’ lead on us. I’ve got tonight’s start, and we’re all hoping for a better outcome.

Josh finds me in the clubhouse as we’re all suiting up to take the field for our early afternoon game. “Hey, man. How’s this week been for you?”

“Crazy,” I say with a light laugh. “Media isn’t leaving me the fuck alone.”

“Did you honestly expect them to? You kissed a girl—Cole’s sister, no less—on national TV. You’re all anyone wants to talk about.”

I sigh. “I know. That doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.”

“Well, tonight’s your first start since you went public. You ready?”

“I’m always ready for a game,” I say with a sly smile. “Remember, nothing breaks Fort Knox.”

“Nothing except Cole’s sister.”

“Fuck off, Garro.” I slide past him as he laughs enthusiastically. I exit the clubhouse and head toward the field since it’s almost time for the away team warmups. Josh follows behind me, and we walk to the rest of our team in the dugout.

But I spot Harlow on the third baseline, so I jog over to her instead. She’s wearing my jersey again and that glittery Stars hat I saw her in after our first game. It suits her really fucking well.

“Hey there, Freckles,” I say as I stand before her. “You by yourself today?”

“Hey, Slick,” she says with a bright smile. “Yup, it’s just me today. Lucia, Rory, and Sage are all hanging back with the team.”

“So, it’s only you that I have to impress then?” I ask, raising my eyebrow at her.

“You trying to impress me?” Harlow stands up in front of me now.

“According to everyone, you’re my girlfriend. Seems like I should seek to impress you, don’t you think?”

“I guess so,” she replies with a shrug. “But your last game was a no-hitter, Fort. Gonna take a hell of a lot to impress me after that.”

I smile and laugh. “You’re never going to go easy on me, are you?”

“Never,” Harlow says, her smile reaching her eyes. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“What do you think about going out after the game today? It should be over around four, so we can grab something to eat or whatever with our friends. Kind of like a buffer when we’re still getting used to each other.”

“Sounds like fun, Knox.” She glances over at the dugout. “Skip keeps glancing at you, and he looks kinda pissed. Might wanna get back to your team.”

“You might be right,” I say with a smirk. “Catch you after the game, Pierce.”

“Good luck on the mound, Spencer.”

“Well, tonight fucking sucked,” Cole says, stabbing his spoon into his froyo. We lost tonight on a blown save by our closer, Chris Rockman. The atmosphere in the clubhouse was pretty tense after two straight losses. I’m grateful that I didn’t get the loss for today, but it still sucks when the team doesn’t do well.

When we all returned to the hotel, Harlow suggested we get some frozen yogurt. Lane and Rory decided to stay with Sage, but Cole and Lucia joined us. I found a place calledFroYo-A-GoGothat Harlow seemed really excited about. I think her bowl cost ten dollars alone, with all the strawberries, blueberries, and kiwis she piled into it.

“There’s always tomorrow,” she says with a smile. She’s always so optimistic. I don’t know how she does it.

“Yeah,” I reply, rubbing my neck. “Anderson’s got the start tomorrow, so I think we’ve got a good chance.”

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