Say It.

Every high school baseball player will tell you the same thing "The best part of baseball is to hit." That's what everyone wants to do. As for me, i agree with that statement 99% of the time, but right now i do not want to hit. I haven't swung a bat in almost two months. I just muscle trained. Fielding the ball came natural but hitting is a very different entity. I grab my bat out of my bag and I throw on a team helmet and I make my way to home plate.

Coach is the one throwing batting practice to all the players. He seems to not be throwing too hard but when i stepped up to the plate he gave me this shit eating grin. Does he know I lied? I look at the coach who goes through a windup and pitches a ball straight down the middle. As the ball passed me all the tension and stress passed me as well. What am I so nervous for? I've done this a million times. I either hit it or I don't. I take a deep breath, I get in my stance, and wait for the next pitch.

Then the most effective bell of all time rang. With the ping of the aluminum bat hitting the ball everyone on that field looked over towards me, and then the fence. That ball is gone! The distance even surprised me. I guess all the lifting i was doing paid off, i can swing the bat faster which can make the ball travel further.

"All right Chase we see you, Now focus on pulling the ball down the third base line."

The rest of the team calls me CB except the coach. I really wish he would. I take the next 10 or so pitches and pull them down the line. After running poles the practice ends. Jorge asked me if I wanted to go to his room and hangout for a while but I told him maybe next time. I decided to stay at the field and hit off the tee for a little bit. About an hour has passed of mindlessly hitting before I hear a voice behind me.

"Ah, so you're the diligent type. Can't say i expected that of you." I turn around to see it's the girl from the lounge room.

"And what did you expect?" I ask while loading the next ball on the tee.

"Thought you would be the cocky type who just shows up and expects to be the best player on the field."

After she finishes her sentence I swing and launch the ball into the netting in front of me.

"You said my name earlier today, how do you know me?"

"I'm Chris's daughter, Brooke."

"Chris?"

"Your coach, Chris Ashford."

I eye her up and down. Nope. They really do not look alike at all. She looks more like the girl at the reception desk if anything.

"That's cool, is your boyfriend on the team?"

"I don't have a boyfriend, and I would never date a player."

I look at her again.

"Thats a shame."

"Is it?" She says with a sly smile. Damn, that's enough to make any guy's heart skip a beat. Me and her go back in forth for a bit with a seemingly easy conversation before she tells me that she better go. Seeing as the sun is setting I decide that it's best for me to head back to the dorm as well. While in bed that night I couldn't help but think about Brooke. I can't say i like her in a romantic way, but she's easy to talk to and pretty attractive. Damn. I should've asked for her number.

The next day during school I realized I left my equipment bag in the dugout. I decided to grab it during lunch. Coach had to attend a scheduling meeting for this year's season so we don't have practice today. I thought it would be better to not let it sit out all day. As I walk to the practice field I notice someone sitting on the bleachers. With the frizzy red hair and a book in her hands I recognized her immediately.

"Whats up Rose?"

She shrugs.

"Why not read in the library during lunch?"

"... It's a nice day." I plop a seat next to her on the bleachers and look out towards the field. A nice day is an understatement. It's downright beautiful. Spotless blue sky, perfect temperature, and a beautifully kept baseball field to look at.

"Do you like baseball?"

She shrugs again. I would've gotten bored with this conversation if it was anyone else but i don't mind the limited words if im talking with her.

"Did you know that I play?"

"Are you good?"

"Ha, i'd like to think so." She doesn't respond. We sit next to each other in silence for a bit. I wonder if she's feeling uncomfortable. I was about to ask her if she wanted me to leave but she spoke up first.

"Why... do you talk to me?"

"Do you not want me to?"

She shakes her head. "That's not what i meant."

"I talk with you because I want to. That's really why I do anything. It's also a nice change of pace."

"You're weird." She says with a smile on her face. Without another word spoken I spent the rest of the lunch period next to her. Doing nothing but staring at the baseball field.

After school I returned to the dorm. Jorge had promised to show me around town today. I walk into the lobby to see Jorge waiting for me.

"I'm just gonna drop off my bag then I'm ready to go."

When I get back to the lobby I see Jorge talking with two of the older kids on the team. One of them pitches and the other plays center field. The center fielder is a year older than me, stands at about 5'7, and the only thing that stood out about him is his speed. Dave was his name.

"Yo, you ready?" I asked, looking at Jorge

"Two dates in one day?" I hear the pitcher say in a sarcastic tone.

"I would never cheat on Jorge."

"What about the date with the red haired girl?"

"Rose?" Jorge chimes in.

"We had lunch together." I explain.

"Look at you" Dave spoke. "second day here and your already trying to fuck the reta-" Before he can finish i grab him by the throat.

"C'mon, finish the sentence. Do it. Say it. Fucking say it."

Dave looks at me before putting both his hands up in the air. I let go of him. Him talking about Rose like that rubbed me the wrong way. There's no romantic feeling there but i definitely know i wouldn't have gotten as mad if he were talking about anyone else.

"Jorge, Lets go."

"...Right."