“You don’t look it. You look stoic as hell.”
I shrug. “Let’s go. I’m ready.”
“Alright. A man who gets down to business. I like that.”
I stand, grab my glove, and I head out for my first major league warm up.
The stadium lights hit differently here. They’re brighter, sharper, and everything’s louder.
The crowd’s already buzzing as I jog out to the field and take my spot at third.
The dirt feels the same. At least that part hasn’t changed.
I flex my glove and set my feet.
“Hey, rookie,” the shortstop calls over. “Don’t screw this up.”
I glance at him, and he grins.
“Oh really? I was going to try and screw it up. Now I won’t.”
“Geezus,” he comes back with. “Just making conversation.”
The first pitch comes in, and the batter swings, rocketing the ball right down the line. Right at me.
Instinct takes over. I move, glove down, handle it clean, then fire it across the diamond for an out.
The crowd pops, but I don’t react.
Just turn, walk back to my spot, and tap the dirt with my spikes.
Because just for a second, I swear I can hear her.
Yeah.
My jaw tightens.
The next pitch is a ball.
Man, I’m going insane. MaybeI’mthe one who’s going to need a rebound now.
Except, what I really want is just to see Cassie after this game.
I bite my lower lip, and reach into my back pocket for a few sunflower seeds, and take it all in.
Our pitcher strikes out the next two batters, and we jog into the dugout.
One of the veteran catchers catches my eye as I hit the dugout steps.
“Hey, rookie,” he says, nodding toward me. “Try and have some fun out there, will ya? You look like you’re waiting in line at the DMV.”
That gets a small laugh out of me.
I shake my head, forcing something that almost looks like a smile.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll work on that.”
But as I drop onto the bench, still chewing the same damn seeds, I already know I won’t.
