Page 83 of Wild Hit
So I can keep kissing Miguel.
CHAPTER 30
MIGUEL
My favorite part of the All-Star game is before it even starts, when the players get to meet some of the little fans. It’s a shame that it can’t be open to every single family that purchases tickets to the game, but I think rather than this being a safety concern, it’s more an issue that there’s way less players than fans. A very good first world problem to have.
I’m crouched down between two siblings, a girl and a boy, and we’re smiling for the camera. As we cheese it out, I wonder if Marty still finds all of this too cringe or if she’d be up to taking a picture with her dad.
Eh, probably the former, but I wouldn’t be where I am if I wasn’t a try-hard.
Me
Can we take some pics after this?
Mi Niña Bonita
Like this?
A moment later comes an attachment of her sitting on the stands reserved for the players’s families. To her left is Consuelowith an enormous bucket of popcorn that almost obscures her entirely. On Marty’s right is a mountain of women—I think that would be a good plural for them, since they’re all larger than life. Audrey’s squished next to my daughter, and she appears grumpy about the fact that her two roommates are basically on top of her, matching Marty’s grin.
Well, thanks. Now I’m bummed that I’m not there.
“Can we have your autograph?” the kids ask, looking up at me like I still have hero-shine even though I already warmed up and I kind of stink.
“Of course.” Like magic, one of the organizing staff passes me a stack of papers with the logo’s event and a marker. “What are your names?”
“I’m Aaliyah!”
Then her little brother adds, “And Elijah!”
Their smiles are so contagious that I can’t help but mirror them as I work on the autograph. The two are in pee wees together, but it’s actually Aaliyah the one who wishes to be a professional baseball player—that was actually their introduction earlier. Breaks my damn freaking heart that it doesn’t seem possible the way things are set up. As a girl dad, I want Marty to have whatever she wants.
“Here you go, champs. Stay safe, okay?” As I offer them the autographs, and since it looks like their hair took a lot of effort, rather than patting them on the head I offer my fist for them to bump it.
As they wave me off, new kids start on theme me mechants. I check the players nearby. The guy from Philly’s team is still still occupied with a tween boy who’s asking for pitching tips. On my other side, Ben Williams is just sending off a girl. The problem is that the kids in the waiting line aren’t looking at him for their next turn.
This grown ass man rolls his eyes at me. “Look at you, Mr. Popular.”
As I did while I was still a Rider, I ignore him.
“I hate that about you, man. Acting like you’re more important than everyone else.”
I mention to the staff member, “I’m ready for the next kid.”
“Great!” she chirps. It takes some finagling with the line to find who has the next ticket to meet me.
Meanwhile, Williams takes that as an invitation to keep yapping. “I still can’t believe you left us for a subpar team like the Wild.”
That’s not enough to goad me into conversation. Not only was the Wild a legit contender for the championship before I came along, butheis the second reason why I left Denver. This guy has the touch of the stomach—everything he touches turns to shit. The Wild was a better team before him, and it’s drastically better after him. And the second he arrived to the Riders, the environment started turning into Chernobyl levels of toxic.
I prepare for whatever’s coming next when he turns around so no one can read his lips. “Are you getting some good tail, though? Orlando has a surprisingly juicy crop of women.” He fake gasps. “Wait. You married my ex’s friend right? Then the tail must not really be good.”
That does it.
Not because he’s getting under my skin—and Audrey would have an even better takedown for him if she was here—but the staff member is wheeling in the next kid and I’d like to preserve his innocence.
“Did you forget that the last time you said something like this, you got your nose broken?” I point at the new curve of his nose. “I guess it’s possible since you can’t see it, but it’s there, trust me.”
