Page 100 of The Third Baseman

I’d overheard so many of these conversations over the past month, and they were only slightly more explicit than the conversations I used to overhear at school. In fact, I’d heard so many that I could now block them out. But maybe it was because of what happened last night, or because it was exactly like the conversation I’d overheard by the team posters on my first day at work, that this was grating a little bit harder.

Jesus, had that really only been a month ago?

“He’d definitely set fire to your bed.”

“Think of all that experience.”

“If he was teaching, I’d never miss class. And I’d let him bite my apples.”

“Do you think he’s as good at sex as he is at baseball?”

“God, where’s a good pair of ear plugs when you need them?” hissed Lowe. “They’re not even original.”

But I wasn’t listening to Lowe.

What I was doing, however, was interrupting the girls before I could stop myself.

“He’s better…”

All four of them stopped gossiping, turned around, and glared at me. I met every ounce of their annoyance with my own, and a healthy dose of snark for good measure. Especially when the blonde one raised a brow as she slowly glowered, starting at my feet and gave me a thorough once over. “Yeah, right. As if you’d know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought anyone could join in.”

If she pursed her lips any tighter, the filler would pop. “This is a private conversation.”

I plastered on my best fake smile and gave her a non-committal shrug. “If you wanted a private conversation then you shouldn’t be standing in the restroom of a baseball stadium talking at the top of your voice.”

They each shot me a death stare worthy of a hormonal teenage girl, but turned back to their conversation.

“Nice,” grinned Beulah.

“Oh my God, that’s why you’re all glowy!” whispered Lowe just as a stall finally opened up.

Beulah snuck through before any of the girls noticed, because they were now too busy using their inside voices.

“Hey!” the blonde one shrieked, but it was too late.

“You snooze, you lose,” Beulah winked, slamming the door in her face. Lowe muffled a snort behind me.

“I really should talk to Penn about who he lets in here.”

“Yeah, guess I’ll have to get used to it all over again,” I rolled my eyes.

“What does that mean? Did something really happen?” she whispered.

I nodded but kept my mouth schooled in a straight line. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Oh shit.” She stopped me from continuing with a wave of her hand. “Wait until Beulah is here, then you won’t have to repeat it. Plus, not sure we need any ears.”

I looked over to the girls, a slightly smaller group now two had managed to get into a stall together.

“Beulah, hurry up!” Lowe called.

“Coming, sorry.” She emerged still doing up her jeans, but didn’t have time to get out of the stall completely before the other two girls pushed her out of the way. “Watch it.”

“Shouldn’t have jumped line.”

“God,” Beulah muttered, rubbing her elbow after she’d washed her hands. “Girls are the worst.”

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