Hitting to Win (Over the Fence #2) (17 page)

“
M
otherfucker
.” I mutter as I swing my bat over my shoulder one more time, ticking it back and forth like the big hand of a clock. I roll my ankle as the pitcher winds up, pursing my lips and whistling out slowly.

And then he launches a 90 mile-an-hour fastball in my direction, and I don’t even flinch. The ball hits the outer corner but is too low, the ump calls a ball. And I live to breathe another pitch.

Inside the stadium, the crowd roars, the first baseball game of the season amping people up and getting a rise out of the Grover fans. And I know somewhere in there, my girlfriend sits, cheering me on with my jersey covering her. And shit, I can’t get distracted about how hot my girl is, because I need to score us some runs right now.

We’re down three to one in the bottom of the seventh, and while we’ve been playing okay on defense, they’ve been killing us in pitching. No one can get a run off this guy. Too bad for him, I’m up and raring to go.

I hear the clicking in the back of my skull, and I know I’m about to hit a bomb. I don’t know how it started, but its kind of my home run sixth sense. I hear this sound and I just know I’m going to whack one over the wall. Owen calls me the Baseball Whisperer. I just want to put us up.

Thank god Clint hit one that broke through the first basemen and shortstop, and his new form got him to second base. He could really run now, instead of chugging around the bases running out of breath.

That asshole pitcher winds up again, and I jump into stance, awaiting his measly throw. This time, its straight over the plate. When my bat connects, straight on in the middle of the piece of wood, I whack, following through with my motion. And then the ball is sailing, flying over the field and the tiny heads of our stupid opponents.

I drop my bat, running like my shoes are on fire and I need to get out of them. Clint is busting his ass just a few yards in front of me, and both of us are rounding the bases like our lives depend on it. And then I look up, for a split-second, and see the outfielder shaking his head and holding up his hands. I slow my roll, trotting around the bases, appreciating the crowd cheering for me for tying up the game.

I search the section where I know family usually sits, and locate my black swan, her pretty face shielded by a Grover hat. I point to her, and nod my head with a cocky gesture. She stands up, waving her hands and then cupping them in a heart, screaming her pretty little head off. I smile like a dopey idiot as I jog around the bases to my team, who are standing out of the dugout, waiting to clap me on the back.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Farris!” Owen pulls on his cap as he fist bumps me. The rest of the guys gather round, clapping me on the head and slapping my ass.

“Alright, ladies, back in the dugout. We have a game to win!” Coach yells at us, and we all turn to file inside, Parker walking up to the plate.

He flies out, getting the last out of the inning, and propelling us into the eighth. Owen keeps the game tied, but the next three batters either fly out or strike out, sending us into the ninth with an anvil on our chests.

Our relief pitcher, Johnny Tombes, comes in and saves our asses, keeping the other side at three. Now its my favorite time of the game. Rally and walk-off time.

Parker bats at the top of the lineup when the inning starts, hitting a shallow single but not beating out the first basemen. One out.

Clint steps up to bat next, swinging at all three of those motherfucker’s puny knuckleballs. Damn it, Clint. Two outs.

And then it’s my turn. No well will I let this asshole tank my ERA in only our first game. I’m getting this walkup. He deals me a high fastball that I balk at, and the umpire calls a strike. Motherfucker. The second pitch is a lob, thrown way into the dirt, and there is the first ball.

And then the clicking comes. I feel it, a slight tick in the back of my jawbone. I smile, a smarmy, cocky grin at that piece of shit up on the mound. Give me all you’ve got.

He eyes me, thinking he’s got one last trick up his sleeve. But, he’s got nothing on my sixth sense.

The pitcher winds up, directing all his might into his five fingers, slinging that leather ball at me, the red seams flashing as they turn over in the air. Everything becomes slow motion, from the way my wrists turn position to the screams of the home fans.

I make contact with a sharp thud, the sickening give of the ball on wood cracking in the air. And then the ball is flying, soaring way past everyone, out into the parking lot. My ears buzz with the deafening roar of the crowd, my instincts a split-second behind. I haven’t even started rounding the bases.

And then Owen is yelling at me. “Run, you moron!”

I take off in a sprint, probably putting too much energy into this run. I should conserve my healthy body for later in the season. But I can’t help it.

This will probably be the last season I play in college. A bunch of the guys know about my plan to enter the draft, but I haven’t told them all. Its what I need to do. It's my dream. Staying here will only be delaying my future, and I need to pursue it with full force.

So I sprint, running toward my teammates and jumping into that pile on home base like it's my giant king bed. My teammates hoot and holler, hug me, jostle and congratulate me. I’m bursting with pride, happiness and joy. And all I want to do is grab Chloe in my arms, swing her around and celebrate these moments before they’re over.

I see her, my perfect girl, running down the bleachers for me, and I wait to scoop her up into me. We might not know exactly what’s going to happen this summer, or beyond that, but I know we’ll make it. I found that person who will stick with me through anything, and I’m smart enough now that I know I’ll never let her go again.

N
ewly bloomed
green leaves dot the oaks lining the main drive on campus. The end-of-spring fragrance is subtle in the air, giving tiny hints that summer was on its way.

"Did you get the call yet?" I had a feeling this would come up soon, although I could feel Minka fighting asking it as much as she could as we walked. On our way to the boy's house, I was trying my hardest not to think about the ever-important phone call I was supposed to receive today.

SAB. Calling to tell me if I made it into the summer intensive or not.

"Not yet." I couldn't say much more, the anxious butterflies in my throat halting me from talking about it.

"Damn, they sure do wait until the last minute, huh? I take my last final tomorrow. This must be torture for you."

"Gee, thanks. Rub it in, Minks."

She gives me a guilty look, twirling a curl around her finger. "Sorry. I just...I want you to find out."

I shrug, conveying that, “Yeah, I'd like to know too." I only have two more finals left, both dances that I have to perform in front of professors, so I'm not sweating anything. I'm just stressed about my intensive, or lack thereof, and about leaving Miles for the summer.

Since our makeup in New York, things have been picture perfect. We spend almost every night sleeping at each other's places, he comes to sit and study in my studio when I dance until midnight, and I sit in the bleachers at his games with Minka, cheering our boys on. Since baseball started again, he's been away more than usual on road games or tournaments. I try to make as many as I can, but sometimes its just not possible. Those three or four days away from him are excruciating. I can't imagine what three months is going to be like.

"So, what are your plans for the summer?" I needed to get my mind off of my anxiety.

"Well, I got an internship at the hospital close to Mitchum, so I'll be living at home. It'll be good, spending some more time with dad. And Owen is in a really prestigious summer league, so he'll be home when he's not on the road for games."

"He's not entering the draft?"

"Not yet. He wants another year with me, he says, but I think he just doesn't want the pressure yet. His dad has let up a lot, but once he makes it big, well...we all know he's going to be a superstar. The cocky jerk. But it's true. So I think he wants one more summer to just be a college kid. The majors will be there when he's ready."

"I get that. Part of me is so nervous for Miles. What if no teams sign him outright?"

"Oh, stop it! Miles is even better than Owen. Cocky jerks the two of them. He will get picked up and play right off the bat. Ha, get it?" She laughs sarcastically at her own pun.

"I know. I just...I'm scared I'll lose him again, Minks. I don't know how you and Owen did it last year, all the back and forth. That stuff is hard."

Minka sighs. "Chloe, that boy loves you more than his own life. More than anything. You will both find a way to make it work, because you love each other. You love what you have with him, how you feel with him, and you'll make it work."

I giggle, feeling better already. "Look at you, Miss Love Therapist."

"Tell me about it. I make myself want to vomit."

We walk the streets behind campus, pausing to say hi to fellow students drinking on their porches or playing cornhole in the front yard. It was officially summer, school was out, and everyone was partying one last time before they shipped home for the summer.

The clearing that held the gravel driveway in front of the guys' house came into view, and I could see Miles's big black truck sitting there. I wanted to run to him, but restrained myself. The only thing that would make me feel less antsy about that phone call was Miles, taking me to his bedroom and distracting me.

Unfortunately, I didn't think that was happening now, considering the core four guys from the baseball team and about forty of their closest friends were playing pong on the large, elevated porch.

Minka and I make our way up the steep wooden steps, and I instantly spot Miles and Owen running the pong table, per usual. I walk up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Hi, sexy. You got a girlfriend around here?” I tease playfully, rubbing his tight abs from behind.

“Shhh…don’t say it too loudly! She might hear. Let’s go to my room, gorgeous.” He turns around and bends his long body to meet my lips.

I can taste the beer on his tongue when he pushes it inside my mouth, lapping at my own tongue and heating me up. When I start to hear whistles, I break away, flushed and turned on.

“Can we please get back to the game now?” Owen whines, his arm wrapped around Minka, pulling her close to his body.

“Celeb shot for me, babe?” Miles holds the ping-pong ball out to me, indicating I should take his shot.

I haven’t partied in weeks, been too caught up in rehearsals and studio time, but I feel like letting loose a little. I’ve earned it.

“Sure, thanks baby.” I take it from him, sticking my tongue out at Owen when he rolls his eyes. He wants to win, and he doesn’t think I’ll sink them. I concentrate, closing one eye and line the ball up, squaring my hips and holding my pinky out like I always did.

Shooting my boyfriend a look, I winked, couldn't help it when he looked so hot, and let the ball fly. When I heard the tiny splash from the other side of the table, I knew I'd sunk the ball. I turned back, seeing Clint on the other side playing with one of the other baseball players, and took a bow as the people around me cheered.

"God, you're so sexy." Miles scooped me up, spinning me in his arms and planting tiny kisses all over my face with his very skilled lips. "Play the rest of the game for me."

"Alright, as long as Owen deems me a worthy partner."

"As long as you keep shooting like that, Bucs, you can stay."

We go back and forth for a while, missing and sinking cups at the same rate Clint and his partner are. I sip on the beer Miles brought me, not wanting to drink out of the nasty pong cups, and try to push the lack of a phone call out of my brain.

"I know you're not playing pong without your favorite partner."

A familiar voice pulls me away from the game, and when I turn, there stands Kels, the crowd parted to allow for her full personality to shine all over the porch.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Minka runs to her, slamming into her with a giant bear hug.

I feel in a daze, having all of my friends back together. I run over to them and join in the jubilation, wiping some of the tears from my eyes. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed Kels this year, how much I could have used her around when all the turmoil had been wracking my life.

Pulling back, I fingered her newly short bob. "So, you didn't want to give anyone a heads up that you were coming home? Typical Kels."

Minka rolls her eyes. "What kind of Kelsey move would it be if she told us? When did you get back? And your hair, I love it!"

Kels pulls back, emotion shining in her round, hazel eyes. She wasn't typically the emotional one, so I was a little surprised. Her auburn hair was chopped to her chin, making her appear older than usual. She'd always had hair almost down to her butt, it was hard adjusting this new her to the old her. But, her clothes were pretty much the same, a festival crop top made of sweater material covering her boobs, which were proportionally huge compared to her tiny waist. Harem pants covered her short legs and bountiful derriere.

Kels had one of those Coke-bottle figures, the body every girl envied and could only be achieved naturally. I'd been so jealous of her in high school, where big boobs and butts were what every guy wanted. Not that that stopped after high school.

"Well, I flew in last night on a red-eye from Europe, and lord knows my parents don't give a fuck where I am, so I came to see my best girls! And get drunk! You won't believe what they drink over in Africa. Shit is like moonshine."

We all laugh, Owen coming up to give her a hug, and Miles hanging back.

"Don't worry, Farris. I won't kick you in the nuts. This time. I haven't heard half the shit you did to my girl while I was away, but you better be glad I was away. I'll give you a pass for now."

Kels motions to him and he walks over like a kicked puppy, then pulls her into his arms while she shrieks. "Don't worry, mini-one, I'll never hurt her again. I promise you can kick my ass though, if I go back on my word. Which I never will."

We all laugh, and I can't put my finger on exactly what is different about Kels. She seems older, more mature. Which clashes with her always spunky attitude, but then again, she was helping impoverished children and endangered animals for a year.

"You didn't save a hug for your best friend?"

Clint comes out from behind us, a wide smirk on his face. Speaking of someone who changed. He's probably lost close to 80 pounds since August. He's leaner, muscular, and extremely hot in that scruffy, lumberjack kind of way. If I wasn't so in love with the blonde giant to my right, I'd actually think Clint was a great catch.

Kels squints, looking at half of what used to be Clint. She must not have realized he was trying to slim down, or at least she doesn't recognize him yet.

"Oh my..." Her jaw drops open, and I see her intake of breath. Kels's porcelain, flawless skin turns the color of a Maraschino cherry, and it all clicks into place. Something has been going on between these two.

Clint is looking at her like she's the sun and he's been standing in the pouring rain for the last twenty years. Like the world has been black and white, and someone's just turned on the color.

"Hi, Clint..." She walks to him, marveling at his newly slim figure, and I know, in Kelsey-language, that she thinks he's hot. I've watched my best friend hook any guy she's wanted for years, and I know this look means she wants him. Clint. I mean, I knew they were talking while she was away, but this is just so strange.

He wraps her in his arms, and I see both of them visibly shudder from the contact when their skin touches the others. I want to look away, this moment is so intimate.

"Alright, back to pong everyone!" Miles clears his throat, slapping me gently on the butt. I throw him a mischievous glance.

"Better not do that while my boyfriend is around..."

"Enough of this. I'm your man, and no one is getting near that pretty ass but me." He smiles, bending his head to nuzzle and plat a wet, open kiss on my neck, and I feel the jolt right to my sex. God, what he does to me.

"I love you, Miles Farriston."

"And I love you, my princess ballerina."

We stand there, smiling at each other like idiots, when I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. Pulling it out in its hot pink case, I turn it over to see a New York area code flashing on the screen.

Miles looks down, and brings his understanding eyes back to mine. "Go take it in my room." He kisses my forehead before turning me around and starting me on my feet, which have just about gone numb by now.

I scurry away into Miles's room, the hum of noise from the porch dissipating as I close the door. Taking one giant deep breath, I press accept on the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi, can I please speak to Chloe Trabucco?"

"Yes, this is she..."

"Hi Chloe, this is Natalie Pinroe from SAB. How are you?"

My nerves actually shook as I sat down on the edge of Miles's grey comforter. "I'm good, how are you?"

Natalie clears her throat. "I'm good, thanks for asking. So, as you know, we had a huge entrant pool this year for our summer intensive program, which is extremely competitive."

She breaks off, causing my stomach to take a dive all the way down to the floor. This can't be good. She's going to tell me I wasn't accepted.

"That being said, we'd like to extend a spot to you. You impressed us, Chloe, and we think you have what it takes to be someone big in the ballet world. That is, if that's what you want."

You know when you get pummeled by a wave in the ocean, only to come up and get hit by another giant wave? The way your senses go haywire, the rushing sound of water in your ears. That's how I feel right now. Shell-shocked, pummeled. The happiest I've ever been in my life.

"Chloe?"

I realize I haven't answered Natalie. "Yes! Yes, of course, yes. Its the only thing I've ever wanted in my life. Thank you...thank you so much. I can't wait."

I hear her smile through the phone. "Great, then. We will see you in June, Chloe."

She cuts the line dead, and I collapse back onto the bed, kicking my feet in a happy dance over my head. I hug myself, rolling around in my pure bliss bubble for just a minute longer.

Collecting myself, I stand and look in the mirror over his dresser. Today is when it all starts happening. And all I want to do is share it with the one person who will be unequivocally happy for me.

I run through the house and out onto the porch, searching like crazy for wherever Miles went. And then I spot him, leaning against the railing, talking to our friends. His eyes find me at the same time, and as soon as my purple meets his blue/green, he breaks into a grin, knowing exactly what I'm thinking.

Miles has me in his arms in two long strides, holding me above his head by my hips, my arms clutching his massive shoulders.

"YAHOOOO!" He shouts like a wild man, making our friends laugh behind him. When he finally puts me down, he grazes my lips, fusing our bubbly energy together and creating one perfect bliss bubble.

"Um, what's going on?" Kels is still standing with Clint, talking and oggling him like a huge piece of meat.

"She got it!" Miles is still just staring at me, a huge smile splitting his perfect, tan face.

"No! You got it? Yes!" Minka breaks Miles and I apart, jumping up and down hugging me.

"Got what? Duh, this girl has been in Africa for like ten months. Fill me in." Kelsey's usual attitude comes out, making me snort.

"I got the summer intensive at SAB that I auditioned for. I'm going to be dancing at the number one company in the United States for three months."

"Fuck yeah!" Kels comes over and wraps me in a huge hug.