Page 64 of Fake Dates and Home Plates
When Bash takes a seat next to me, I give him a cocky smile. “Did you let Sunny pick your walk-up song again?”
He nods. “I’ve been doing it since Little League, and no matter how embarrassing the song is, I still let her do it again.”
Bash’s walk-up songs have been a variety of cringeworthy pop songs, but it always gets a laugh from the crowd.
“What did you pick?” he asks me.
I mimic zipping my lips. It wouldn’t matter anyway; Bash only listens to rap music or songs that would be played at the club.
There’s only one person I care about impressing, and I know it was one of her most listened to songs last year. My girl prefers music that’s at least a decade old, but I don’t mind it one bit.
“You’re so whipped,” Bash tells me with a laugh as he buttons his jersey.
I shrug, unable to deny it. Refuting an obvious fact is pointless. “So?”
Bash might be my best friend, but he has no idea what it’s like to be so fucking gone for someone, you’ll take any moment you can be with them. Of meshing your life with theirs so that even when you’re apart, you’re constantly reminded of them.
“I guess even though you’ve had a crush on her for years, it’s still weird to see one of us tied down.”
I’d absolutely love to be tied down by Henley, with literally anything.
As if he can read my dirty thoughts, he laughs, “Get your head out of your girlfriend’s bed and focus on the game.”
Coach Connor steps in, and the noise ceases. He gives us last-minute reminders of how the West Coast Falcons will likely play today. I listen intently, focused on his observations so I know what to expect at bat. Then, he grabs Bash and our backup pitcher, talking over strategy for them.
Walking out of the tunnel, I breathe in the smell of the field—the freshly mowed grass, the smell of newly-painted lines, and the reddish colored dirt we’ll all be wearing by the last inning.
Then, the sound of the crowd comes through. The school spirit here at HVU runs deep, and the student body shows up for us just as much as every other sport.
We take the field first, and I settle into my spot at first base. The sun is bright for our afternoon game, warming my skin as it shines over us.
As the first batter takes a couple of practice swings away from the home plate, I look over to where I know she should be sitting.
Then, I see her.
Our eyes meet briefly, and she smiles before winking at me, but my focus is on the jersey.Custom-made in black and pink, she wears a Knights jersey with my number on it. She stands, showing off her legs in her black cut-off shorts, but my eyes are fixated on her back as she turns.
My last name sits on top of my number, the pink ‘22’ taking up most of the jersey.
Fuck, I do not need to be getting hard in my protective cup.
I hear the umpire call a strike and refocus my attention on the game. I bend my knees, ready for the play if the batter manages a hit off one of Bash’s throws.
Our turn to bat comes quickly, Bash easily striking out three players in the top of the first inning. We jog into the dugout, ready to follow the batting order posted on the wall as one of the coaching staff stands, ready to give us advice as we wait to warm up.
Ezra is first, followed by one of the sophomore guys who doesn’t see a lot of field time but is a fucking wizard with the bat. When my turn comes around, we’re up by one run with two players on base and one out.
The Simple Plan songs play as I swing my bat in the direction of her seat. I can’t see her face clearly from here, but I can make out two figures dancing to the lyrics, and I know that must be Henley and Lily.
I watch as the pitcher communicates with the catcher behind me before he bends and winds up. I know before I’ve even finished swinging that it’s a strike.
“Strike!” the empire confirms.
Rolling my neck, I step back into my stance. This time, the four-seam fastball doesn’t have quite as much speed as his last attempt. When I swing, I hear it connect with a loud thud. Then, I’m dropping the bat and hauling my ass to first base.
It’s a double, and the Knights get two more runs as a result.
The game continues for what feels like forever, and my skin feels itchy with need.
