too.”
After she went inside I lifted myself off the swing and turned toward my aunt and uncle’s house. But after a block, I decided my night wasn’t finished yet, and turned back around.
I came upon the ball field and stood at the chain link fence in the darkness where I wouldn’t be seen. I knew I shouldn’t be there, because Malcolm likely would be, but that didn’t seem to make my feet move in the opposite direction. There weren’t more than ten people, so I was surprised by the amount of noise. A few field lights were on, and the brightness was as jarring as the noise. I hooked my fingers in the fence and watched. Three girls sat atop the shoulders of three guys. They raced around the bases, the girls screaming and wobbling as the guys ran. I chuckled at the bent-kneed boys, straining under the weight of the girls, but still managing to run pretty fast. A few people in the bleachers cheered them on.
I scanned the faces in the bleachers, and saw neither Malcolm nor Paul. I looked at the field, and realized Paul was one of the running guys, and he had a tiny brunette clutching his forehead. He was in the lead. He picked up the pace and his rider leaned backward precariously.
Still not seeing Malcolm, I decided it was safe to get a closer look at the race. I walked across the grass and climbed the bleachers to sit beside a girl midway up. She looked over and smiled at me. “Hi, I’m Daisy.”
“I’m Fay.” Then our attention was captured by screaming as the racers rounded home and went for another lap.
I laughed loudly when two of the guys collided at first base. The girls on top of them grabbed each other for balance, which made it harder for the boys to get their footing. Daisy laughed too. We clapped and Daisy let out a whoop when the race ended. Paul had won.
He helped his rider dismount, and leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. She batted him away and wiped her forehead with her hand. “We’re too sweaty for kissing,” I heard her say, but she was smiling.
Paul walked up the bleachers toward me, getting congratulatory slaps on the back on the way. “Hi Fay, you came.” He sat down beside me, trying to catch his breath, and dug around in a cooler at Daisy’s feet. “Here, have a beer.” He tossed it to me, and I caught it.
“That was quite the athletic feat,” I told him, nodding toward the field.
“What can I say? I cannot be beat at Chicken Baseball Racing.”
“Is that what that was?”
“Yep. Watch for it at the next summer Olympics.”
I tipped my head back and took a deep drink of my beer, and an image popped into my mind, of Uncle Todd doing the same thing out by the fire, his neck long and exposed, moving as he swallowed down the beer. I passed the can to Paul. “You have the rest.”
He took it, and I looked up to see Malcolm walking toward the bleachers. “I didn’t think he was here.”
“Sorry. Guess he decided to show up after all.” Paul wiped sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt; a move I knew was intended to give me a glimpse of his stomach. It was a nice stomach, but I couldn’t force my attention off the pressure I felt on the side of my face where Malcolm’s gaze rested. He crossed over home plate and started up the bleachers.
“So what’s up with you and his family? Why can’t you talk to Dearings?” Paul asked.
“Well—” I noticed Daisy was listening closely to our conversation. “It’s complicated.”
By then, Malcolm had reached us, that ever-present grin making me feel guilty. For what, I wasn’t sure; maybe for having the family I did.
“Why is it complicated?” Paul asked.
“Hi,” Malcolm said, and sat down backwards on the bench in front of me, crowding into my space. I shifted my feet to the side, making room for his feet. “I’d like to know the answer to that question, too.”
I allowed myself to look at Malcolm’s
After she went inside I lifted myself off the swing and turned toward my aunt and uncle’s house. But after a block, I decided my night wasn’t finished yet, and turned back around.
I came upon the ball field and stood at the chain link fence in the darkness where I wouldn’t be seen. I knew I shouldn’t be there, because Malcolm likely would be, but that didn’t seem to make my feet move in the opposite direction. There weren’t more than ten people, so I was surprised by the amount of noise. A few field lights were on, and the brightness was as jarring as the noise. I hooked my fingers in the fence and watched. Three girls sat atop the shoulders of three guys. They raced around the bases, the girls screaming and wobbling as the guys ran. I chuckled at the bent-kneed boys, straining under the weight of the girls, but still managing to run pretty fast. A few people in the bleachers cheered them on.
I scanned the faces in the bleachers, and saw neither Malcolm nor Paul. I looked at the field, and realized Paul was one of the running guys, and he had a tiny brunette clutching his forehead. He was in the lead. He picked up the pace and his rider leaned backward precariously.
Still not seeing Malcolm, I decided it was safe to get a closer look at the race. I walked across the grass and climbed the bleachers to sit beside a girl midway up. She looked over and smiled at me. “Hi, I’m Daisy.”
“I’m Fay.” Then our attention was captured by screaming as the racers rounded home and went for another lap.
I laughed loudly when two of the guys collided at first base. The girls on top of them grabbed each other for balance, which made it harder for the boys to get their footing. Daisy laughed too. We clapped and Daisy let out a whoop when the race ended. Paul had won.
He helped his rider dismount, and leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. She batted him away and wiped her forehead with her hand. “We’re too sweaty for kissing,” I heard her say, but she was smiling.
Paul walked up the bleachers toward me, getting congratulatory slaps on the back on the way. “Hi Fay, you came.” He sat down beside me, trying to catch his breath, and dug around in a cooler at Daisy’s feet. “Here, have a beer.” He tossed it to me, and I caught it.
“That was quite the athletic feat,” I told him, nodding toward the field.
“What can I say? I cannot be beat at Chicken Baseball Racing.”
“Is that what that was?”
“Yep. Watch for it at the next summer Olympics.”
I tipped my head back and took a deep drink of my beer, and an image popped into my mind, of Uncle Todd doing the same thing out by the fire, his neck long and exposed, moving as he swallowed down the beer. I passed the can to Paul. “You have the rest.”
He took it, and I looked up to see Malcolm walking toward the bleachers. “I didn’t think he was here.”
“Sorry. Guess he decided to show up after all.” Paul wiped sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt; a move I knew was intended to give me a glimpse of his stomach. It was a nice stomach, but I couldn’t force my attention off the pressure I felt on the side of my face where Malcolm’s gaze rested. He crossed over home plate and started up the bleachers.
“So what’s up with you and his family? Why can’t you talk to Dearings?” Paul asked.
“Well—” I noticed Daisy was listening closely to our conversation. “It’s complicated.”
By then, Malcolm had reached us, that ever-present grin making me feel guilty. For what, I wasn’t sure; maybe for having the family I did.
“Why is it complicated?” Paul asked.
“Hi,” Malcolm said, and sat down backwards on the bench in front of me, crowding into my space. I shifted my feet to the side, making room for his feet. “I’d like to know the answer to that question, too.”
I allowed myself to look at Malcolm’s
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