“Fuck this asshole.” O’Malley scoffs as he grabs his helmet and gets ready to hit the plate.
“Friend of yours?” I ask, chuckling at his response to Guerrero pitching.
“If you call being the biggest douche in the history of baseball and then stealing someone’s shit during training camp friends, then yeah… totally.”
Okay, not a friend.
The team watches the tension between O’Malley and Guerrero and it’s so fucking thick in the air that you can taste it. “This will not go well.”
“No, the fuck it won’t.” Jackson chimes in at my side.
“They just need to fuck and get over it.” Andres chimes in.
Jackson’s and my heads whip around. “What?”
Andres chuckles. “Seriously, you can’t see it?Ellos están locos uno por el otro.”
“No mames!” I scoff. “There is no way O’Malley is into him.”
“Okay,” Andres laughs. “Just you wait.”
I turn back and watch O’Malley stare Guerrero down, mouthing, “Fuck you.” Guerrero just smiles at him as he winds up to pitch. Strike after strike, he throws the heat. O’Malley enters the dugout pissed off, dropping onto the bench.
Fuck.
It’s Jackson, then me, if we get that far.
Two balls and a nice solid hit to left field get Jackson onto second base and Gael makes it to third. Now it’s all up to me.I’ve got this.I walk out and set myself up, taking a deep breath, and I zero in on Guerrero. His first pitch soars across home plate.
“Strike.”
Fuck.
Setting up, I watch him wind back. As it releases, it’s perfect, just the ball I’m looking for, so I let it rip and send the ball up and out of the stadium.
“Wooo!” I scream as I hit the bases, bringing Gael and Jackson home and then myself.
We win eight to five, and me hitting a walk-off home run was the icing on the perfect first game.
Heading into the dressing room, the only thing on my mind is to get changed and go find Isla. What I didn’t expect was to be bombarded by the press, with cameras in my face asking about the game and how I felt about my performance.
Iam so not prepared for this.
I know I’m supposed to be professional and talk with the media, like a good athlete. But I could give two shits right now,so I give short answers and thank them politely, pushing through the crowd. My phone in my hand, I send her a text.
Kai
Where are you?
Isla
We’re heading toward the front of the stadium. I didn’t think we could meet you outside the dressing room.
Don’t freak out, but I’m pretty sure our parents know something is going on with us.
Well, dinner is going to be awesome.
I can just tell.
