“Ass!”
Caleb turned his head. Had he missed something?
“What an ass!” Frank repeated. He was a young guy, maybe all of twenty, with a quick temper. He was an amazing shortstop, though, so they sometimes let the temper slide.
“Who’s an ass?” Caleb shot back.
“That announcer! Who the hell is he?”
“Not sure.” Caleb glanced around the dugout. No one else seemed pissed. “Why? What did he say?”
Frank spat at the ground and frowned. “Fucker said we made a lot of errors.”
Caleb pressed his lips together. He considered pointing out that the announcer was right, but didn’t think Frank would like that too much and wisely kept his thoughts to himself. Sometimes it was better tolet Frank just blow off the mad before trying to reason with him.
“Anyone know what happened to Al?” Brandon interjected.
“Quit,” Coach Middleton announced. “Yesterday.”
“Fuck! Why?” Frank looked shocked. He had really liked the old guy. Even went fishing with him a few times.
Coach Middleton shrugged and turned back to watch the game. Frank threw his hands in the air and stalkedto the other end of the dugout.
Caleb didn’t blame him for getting frustrated. Jay Middleton was a decent pitching coach, but his communication skills were terrible. Frankly, Caleb was surprised he had even spoken up about Al.
“Dodson, up on deck!”
Caleb grabbed his bat and helmet and stepped onto the dirt. He settled the helmet on his head and moved to the on-deck circle and began swinging.
By the time he stepped up to bat, his team had one on first and another on third. He needed to get a base hit. He took his spot in the batter’s box, digging his cleat into the dirt as he concentrated on the pitcher.
“Damn,” someone whispered behind him. “I would know that ass anywhere.”
Caleb lurched back and missed the pitch. He glared at the catcher. “What the hell, man?”
The catcher lifted his mask a little and winked. It was Juan.
Caleb’s stomach fell, and he felt the blood drain from his face. He’d been so relieved that Juan hadn’t recognized him earlier, he hadn’t paid attention to him since.
“Shut up,” he hissed.
“Hmm, you didn’t want me to be quiet last year,” he answered and grinned. “In fact, I seem to remember you telling me you liked how loud I moaned.”
“Fuck!” Caleb glanced around. All eyes were on them, but he was pretty sure no one was close enough to hear.
“Yeah, we did do that,” Juan said with a quiet chuckle.
“Everything okay, Dodson?”
His head swiveled toward the pitching coach. “Yeah, sorry,” he hollered as he glared at Juan again.
Juan flipped his mask down and crouched into position.
Flustered, Caleb tried to get his head back into the game. Concentrate!
“Caleb Dodson, number thirteen, ready to try again,” the announcer said.
When the pitch came, he was ready, but he ended up swinging and missing. Two strikes. He groaned. Not a great way to start the season.
When that third pitch arrived, his bat made contact and he ended up grounding the ball directly to the Lions’ third baseman. Caleb made a mad dash for first base anyway, and heard the crowd begin to cheer. The Lions’ third baseman had fumbled the ball and was scrambling for it, allowing their man on third tomake it home and the man on first to get to second. Caleb arrived safely at first and braced his hands onhis knees. Juan had shaken him and he was pissed that he had allowed it to happen.
Blood pumped in his ears as he scanned the infield and settled on Juan, standing at home plate, grinningfrom ear to ear, the catcher’s mask resting on top of his jet black curls. Caleb didn’t care how hot Juan looked, but he would make sure he’d talk to him tonight before they left the stadium. He needed to make sure Juan didn’t go any further with this.
He ended up scoring a run before the next inning began, but the rest of their game was pretty bad. Soon, it became clear the fans were growing bored, until their mascot got into character, dressed in a large white rabbit suit and a jersey that matched the team’s. The guy was only a year or so out of high schooland this was his first game, too. Caleb was impressed with how well he engaged the crowd. He kept them soentertained, the guests didn’t even seem upset their home team was being crushed.
The mascot also didn’t seem to mind wearing the dreadful costume. The kid looked like the fucking Easter Bunny. God, you couldn’t pay Caleb enough to put on that damn suit and dance around. Those bunnyfeet were huge. Caleb was surprised the guy didn’t trip over them.