I glance out across the field toward the dugout and catch Greyson’s eye. He’s practically scowling at the row of our co-workers and friends—especially aiming irritated laser eyes at Dustin, our new half-mascot.
Greyson did explicitly tell everyone not to come, but I think it’s sweet that they showed up. And I actually think under his crusty exterior, Greyson does too.
Avery leans in close so only I can hear her. “Five.”
“Five what?”
“Five times he’s looked your way since we sat down. That’s the only score I’m interested in today.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I tell her.
“I’m living through you.”
“Why don’t you date someone?” I whisper. “I can live through you.”
“Maybe one day. I’m holding out for a guy who makes it worth my while.”
“I fully understand that,” I tell her. “Try swearing it off. Seems to be the time someone you can’t resist comes into the mix.”
She giggles.
Mom looks over. “No fair, you two. Keeping secrets when you were little was one thing. As adults, we’re all supposed to share.”
I send Avery a quick look that saysdon’t you dare. She pinches her lips shut.
The team moms are all seated together on the row behind us.
The players for both teams warm up and then our opponents, the Honey Bears, take the field while the Llamacorns gather helmets and bats. Greyson and Will start calling players’ names, having the girls line up near the dugout fence.
Greyson takes the mound. And he glances at me—again.
Avery leans in. “Eight.”
“Are you really going to keep score this whole game?”
“Oh. I’m absolutely keeping score. This is awesome. He can’t help himself.”
I want to be irritated with my sister, but honestly, she’s right. It is pretty awesome.
The game progresses. Dustin gets everyone to do a wave. It’s a mess, but we’re all laughing.
Then he starts a chant each time a batter comes up to the plate, shouting their name and saying, “Go Llamacorns!”
Greyson keeps shooting him death glares, and that only serves as fuel to Dustin’s antics.
Mia’s fourth at bat. We’ve got a girl on second and one on third. One player already struck out.
She plants her feet in a batting stance, adjusts her grip, and nods at Greyson. He throws her the ball, not holding back like he did for the other three batters before her.
Dustin shouts, “Gooooo Meeeeee-aaaahhh!” right as she swings and the bat makes that satisfying thwack connecting with the ball.
The crowd is on their feet, cheering and whooping. Parents are shouting over one another, “Run! Run!”
It soars over the infielders’ heads, out over the outfield and keeps flying almost to the fence. Mia takes off like a bolt of lightning. The girl on third runs home. Luna’s on second. She stands still until Greyson shouts, “Run, Luna! Run!” Then she runs to third, landing on the base with a hop and a smile around at everyone.
“Run home, Luna!” Greyson shouts. Mia’s almost to third at this point.
“Run! Home! Lunaaaaaah!” Dustin shouts. Then he starts singing “Run Home, Luna,” to the tune ofHang on Sloopy.
