the plan, man,” Aaron says,
coming to sit next to me.
“Did you see my hit, or were you too busy
staring after my sister?” I know he’s just busting my chops, but the fact that
I was staring after his sister makes this situation feel insanely awkward.
“Dude, can she read the pitch?” I ask,
trying to change the subject. It works, thank God.
“Yeah. She’s always been able to. Actually,
she’s the one who taught me how when we were kids. It just came naturally to
her. Hell, everything to do with sports came easy as hell to her, but she never
really cared about them. One day, I showed my ass, swearing up and down she was
cheating, and she asked me why I didn’t just count the ticks and wait like she
did. I had no fucking clue what she was talking about, but after a lot of
practice, I managed to grasp it.”
“Seriously? Why didn’t she go into sports?
If not to play, as a scout or coach? Hell, anything. People pay out the ass for
someone who can do what she does.”
“She never wanted to. I don’t know, man.”
“Wow. That’s crazy. You think she can read
me?”
“I’ve never found an athlete she can’t
read. Baseball, basketball, soccer, football. It doesn’t matter. She always
knows when he’s going to release. She can pinpoint his pattern in fewer than
five minutes, and after that, there’s no outsmarting her.”
“Damn. You know I’m gonna have to test
it.”
“Go for it. Maybe she can help you hide
your ticks so others won’t be able to read you either.”
“Hell yeah. You think she will?”
“After she finds out that gift on her bed
wasn’t from me? Yeah, she will. She’s going to want to repay you somehow. My
advice to you man . . . let her. And in the future, if you want to make her
happy, don’t do it by buying her stuff. She is as far from materialistic as
they come. Seriously. That girl would rather live under a bridge and be happy
than live in a mansion and be miserable.”
“Dude, you know I didn’t buy it for that.”
“I know that, but she won’t.”
“Fuck.”
“Oh shit. Easy there, Luc, Saint Peter
might come down here and snatch you up right now if he hears you cuss again.”
Aaron laughs, picking at me for my aversion to cussing, but I don’t laugh back
with him. I can’t stop thinking about Charlee and how she’s going to react to
the camera when she finds out I bought it for her.
Never in a million years did I think she
would get pissed off, but then again, I wasn’t really thinking at all. I saw
the way her eyes lit up when she saw that flyer for the photography class, and
then when she said she didn’t have a camera anymore, the heartbreak in her
voice just about destroyed me right then and there, so I pretended to have to
use the restroom, and instead, I ran into Wilson Camera and asked the clerk at
the counter for the best professional camera and any lenses she may need to go
with it. I didn’t care how much it cost. It didn’t matter to me at all. All
that mattered in that moment was making her smile.
“Hey, man, don’t sweat it too bad. If you
want, I’ll just tell her I got it for her.”
“No. I don’t want to start this off by
lying to her. Something tells me she has had enough of that in her life. I’ll
tell her and pray she doesn’t kill me.”
“Kill you? Nah. She’s more into brutally
maiming people nowadays.”
“Thanks. I feel so much better.”
The next two batters strike out, and
before I know it, we’re back on the field. Coach Matherson puts in Troy Grayson
as relief pitcher, and I watch as he goes through his warmup with Aaron.
Charlee watches for a second, but after a quick shake of her head, I have about
as much faith in us winning this game as she does. I wish there was a way to
get her opinion on what she thought he needed to do, but we aren’t allowed to
leave the dugout during the game unless we’re going on field.
Glancing up toward her and Ashlin, it
seems Charlee has had the same thought as me,
coming to sit next to me.
“Did you see my hit, or were you too busy
staring after my sister?” I know he’s just busting my chops, but the fact that
I was staring after his sister makes this situation feel insanely awkward.
“Dude, can she read the pitch?” I ask,
trying to change the subject. It works, thank God.
“Yeah. She’s always been able to. Actually,
she’s the one who taught me how when we were kids. It just came naturally to
her. Hell, everything to do with sports came easy as hell to her, but she never
really cared about them. One day, I showed my ass, swearing up and down she was
cheating, and she asked me why I didn’t just count the ticks and wait like she
did. I had no fucking clue what she was talking about, but after a lot of
practice, I managed to grasp it.”
“Seriously? Why didn’t she go into sports?
If not to play, as a scout or coach? Hell, anything. People pay out the ass for
someone who can do what she does.”
“She never wanted to. I don’t know, man.”
“Wow. That’s crazy. You think she can read
me?”
“I’ve never found an athlete she can’t
read. Baseball, basketball, soccer, football. It doesn’t matter. She always
knows when he’s going to release. She can pinpoint his pattern in fewer than
five minutes, and after that, there’s no outsmarting her.”
“Damn. You know I’m gonna have to test
it.”
“Go for it. Maybe she can help you hide
your ticks so others won’t be able to read you either.”
“Hell yeah. You think she will?”
“After she finds out that gift on her bed
wasn’t from me? Yeah, she will. She’s going to want to repay you somehow. My
advice to you man . . . let her. And in the future, if you want to make her
happy, don’t do it by buying her stuff. She is as far from materialistic as
they come. Seriously. That girl would rather live under a bridge and be happy
than live in a mansion and be miserable.”
“Dude, you know I didn’t buy it for that.”
“I know that, but she won’t.”
“Fuck.”
“Oh shit. Easy there, Luc, Saint Peter
might come down here and snatch you up right now if he hears you cuss again.”
Aaron laughs, picking at me for my aversion to cussing, but I don’t laugh back
with him. I can’t stop thinking about Charlee and how she’s going to react to
the camera when she finds out I bought it for her.
Never in a million years did I think she
would get pissed off, but then again, I wasn’t really thinking at all. I saw
the way her eyes lit up when she saw that flyer for the photography class, and
then when she said she didn’t have a camera anymore, the heartbreak in her
voice just about destroyed me right then and there, so I pretended to have to
use the restroom, and instead, I ran into Wilson Camera and asked the clerk at
the counter for the best professional camera and any lenses she may need to go
with it. I didn’t care how much it cost. It didn’t matter to me at all. All
that mattered in that moment was making her smile.
“Hey, man, don’t sweat it too bad. If you
want, I’ll just tell her I got it for her.”
“No. I don’t want to start this off by
lying to her. Something tells me she has had enough of that in her life. I’ll
tell her and pray she doesn’t kill me.”
“Kill you? Nah. She’s more into brutally
maiming people nowadays.”
“Thanks. I feel so much better.”
The next two batters strike out, and
before I know it, we’re back on the field. Coach Matherson puts in Troy Grayson
as relief pitcher, and I watch as he goes through his warmup with Aaron.
Charlee watches for a second, but after a quick shake of her head, I have about
as much faith in us winning this game as she does. I wish there was a way to
get her opinion on what she thought he needed to do, but we aren’t allowed to
leave the dugout during the game unless we’re going on field.
Glancing up toward her and Ashlin, it
seems Charlee has had the same thought as me,
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