because now she is holding up a
sign and facing our dugout.
Tap. Tap. A picture of a donut.
Tap. Tap. A picture of a pencil.
It takes me a minute, but I get what she
is saying.
“Coach.”
“Yeah, Bouchard?” Coach Traps calls back
to me.
“A word, please, sir?” He walks to the
dugout fence, where I meet him. I can tell he isn’t happy about being called
away from the game, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to help us win this thing.
“Make it quick, 23. I got a game to
coach.”
“Yes, sir. Grayson is giving away his
pitch, Sir.”
“No shit. I just can’t figure out how.”
“When he goes to throw a curve, he taps
his foot twice and then circles it in the dirt, but when he’s throwing a
fastball, he taps twice and draws a straight line.”
“No shit? How did you figure that out?”
“I didn’t. Cooper’s sister did. She’s in
the stand.”
“Thank her for me, 23.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turn back to Charlee and tip my hat to
her and mouth the words thank you . Charlee, ever the smart aleck, bows
at the waist and curtsies me.
We end up winning the game 6 to 5. I have
no doubt that if it hadn’t been for Charlee’s quick eye and smart thinking, we
would have lost the game. Thanks to her, our winning streak continues. After a
quick shower and change of clothes, I meet Aaron and Charlee at the entrance to
the stadium.
“This chick has decided she is starving.
You wanna run and grab a bite to eat?”
“Sure, sounds good to me.”
“Alright, you guys wanna follow us or how
do you want to do this?” Aaron asks Charlee and Ashlin.
“Yeah, we can follow you. I’ve got
Everly’s base in the car already.”
“Mexican sound good?”
“Mmm. Fuck yes. My favorite,” Charlee
says.
The restaurant is packed when we arrive,
but we are able to find a seat outside on the balcony without much wait. It’s
nice to sit at the table with friends and enjoy a nice, quiet meal without a
lot of drama and crazies interfering. Of course, I should have known that
wouldn’t be good enough for Aaron.
“Who wants to hit up the club when we
leave here?”
“Not me. I’m going to the house. I need to
get my bags packed for tomorrow.” We head back out of town tomorrow, this time
heading to Boston.
“Of course you don’t want to go. You don’t
know how to have a good time,” Aaron says sarcastically.
“Whatever,” I reply.
“I need to get Everly home and in bed, so
I’m out too.”
“I’ll go.” Ashlin offers. “Can I invite a
few friends?”
“Sure, the more the merrier.”
Chapter Eight
Charlee
Ashlin chatters on and on about what she’s
planning to wear to the party tonight, and I try really hard not to shut her
out. I want to be a good friend, so I really do try, but parties and clothes
and all of that have never meant much to me. I have never understood the appeal
of the world of fashion. I mean, what's the point in spending tons of dollars
on something that you may only wear once or twice? I'm a much simpler girl.
Give me a baggy t-shirt and some comfy jeans paired with my favorite Converse,
and I am set. On occasion, I'll slip on a summer dress, but usually only when I
haven't done laundry that week and I don't have anything else to wear—like
today.
The first look Emma got at my closet four
years ago sent her into shock. I worried that she might have a heart attack
looking in at the lack of clothes and accessories. She stood there staring at
my meager belongings with a disgusted curl of her lip. I wanted to say
something, to take up for myself, but I couldn't even muster the energy, so I
just kept my mouth shut and let her dress me whenever the occasion called for
it, which, according to Emma, was often.
“Is Andy going with you?” Andy and Ashlin have
been dating off and on now for the past two years, but apparently, things have
been different lately. He’s been acting strange, and I have a feeling they aren’t
going to last too much
sign and facing our dugout.
Tap. Tap. A picture of a donut.
Tap. Tap. A picture of a pencil.
It takes me a minute, but I get what she
is saying.
“Coach.”
“Yeah, Bouchard?” Coach Traps calls back
to me.
“A word, please, sir?” He walks to the
dugout fence, where I meet him. I can tell he isn’t happy about being called
away from the game, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to help us win this thing.
“Make it quick, 23. I got a game to
coach.”
“Yes, sir. Grayson is giving away his
pitch, Sir.”
“No shit. I just can’t figure out how.”
“When he goes to throw a curve, he taps
his foot twice and then circles it in the dirt, but when he’s throwing a
fastball, he taps twice and draws a straight line.”
“No shit? How did you figure that out?”
“I didn’t. Cooper’s sister did. She’s in
the stand.”
“Thank her for me, 23.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turn back to Charlee and tip my hat to
her and mouth the words thank you . Charlee, ever the smart aleck, bows
at the waist and curtsies me.
We end up winning the game 6 to 5. I have
no doubt that if it hadn’t been for Charlee’s quick eye and smart thinking, we
would have lost the game. Thanks to her, our winning streak continues. After a
quick shower and change of clothes, I meet Aaron and Charlee at the entrance to
the stadium.
“This chick has decided she is starving.
You wanna run and grab a bite to eat?”
“Sure, sounds good to me.”
“Alright, you guys wanna follow us or how
do you want to do this?” Aaron asks Charlee and Ashlin.
“Yeah, we can follow you. I’ve got
Everly’s base in the car already.”
“Mexican sound good?”
“Mmm. Fuck yes. My favorite,” Charlee
says.
The restaurant is packed when we arrive,
but we are able to find a seat outside on the balcony without much wait. It’s
nice to sit at the table with friends and enjoy a nice, quiet meal without a
lot of drama and crazies interfering. Of course, I should have known that
wouldn’t be good enough for Aaron.
“Who wants to hit up the club when we
leave here?”
“Not me. I’m going to the house. I need to
get my bags packed for tomorrow.” We head back out of town tomorrow, this time
heading to Boston.
“Of course you don’t want to go. You don’t
know how to have a good time,” Aaron says sarcastically.
“Whatever,” I reply.
“I need to get Everly home and in bed, so
I’m out too.”
“I’ll go.” Ashlin offers. “Can I invite a
few friends?”
“Sure, the more the merrier.”
Chapter Eight
Charlee
Ashlin chatters on and on about what she’s
planning to wear to the party tonight, and I try really hard not to shut her
out. I want to be a good friend, so I really do try, but parties and clothes
and all of that have never meant much to me. I have never understood the appeal
of the world of fashion. I mean, what's the point in spending tons of dollars
on something that you may only wear once or twice? I'm a much simpler girl.
Give me a baggy t-shirt and some comfy jeans paired with my favorite Converse,
and I am set. On occasion, I'll slip on a summer dress, but usually only when I
haven't done laundry that week and I don't have anything else to wear—like
today.
The first look Emma got at my closet four
years ago sent her into shock. I worried that she might have a heart attack
looking in at the lack of clothes and accessories. She stood there staring at
my meager belongings with a disgusted curl of her lip. I wanted to say
something, to take up for myself, but I couldn't even muster the energy, so I
just kept my mouth shut and let her dress me whenever the occasion called for
it, which, according to Emma, was often.
“Is Andy going with you?” Andy and Ashlin have
been dating off and on now for the past two years, but apparently, things have
been different lately. He’s been acting strange, and I have a feeling they aren’t
going to last too much
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