“I told you I’m bad at being put on the spot. This is a great example.”
I’m laughing again. “You’re just not bad. You’re truly awful.”
“Hey,” he says. “I’m trying here. I almost had an idea before you interrupted me with your face.”
I clear my throat. “Sorry. My bad.” I gesture toward him. “By all means continue almost having an idea.”
He rolls his eyes. “Hush.”
I slam my mouth shut.
“Actually, look away.”
“You can’t be serious,” I say, already failing at being quiet.
He crosses his arms and waits. “I can’t think with you staring at me.”
I shake my head, but I shift my weight and stare out the window anyway because at this point it’s a game. “Happy?”
“Much better.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You like it.”
I do.
I like it more than I should admit because enjoying his company this much when I hated him yesterday feels like a crime. And yet, right now I don’t care. I don’t want this feeling to go away. I want to stay in this bubble of happiness where I’m just a girl teasing a boy.
“I got it,” he says.
I spin around. “Are you sure? Or do you need to get more inspiration from the back of my head?”
“It was helpful, but I’m good.”
“Well, let’s hear your great idea.”
He runs his hand through his hair, curls bouncing right back. “Let’s find a baseball field.”
“Of course.”
We find an older field not too far from where we were. It’s a little beat up with rust on the chain-link fence and the wood is chipping on the benches surrounding it. Even the bases are worn out, but it doesn’t matter.
Myles grabs his duffel bag out of the back of his car, and he puts his helmet on me. “Are you ready?”
I blow a strand of hair out of my face. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
I cross my arms. “Do you realize how unfair this is? I haven’t swung a bat in years.”
“Come on. You can’t be that bad.”
Oh, but I am. The first pitch he throws has me jumping out of the way and screaming.
He laughs.
“You almost hit me!”
