Senior Year Box Set

We all chuckled because I’d been giving my brother a hard time about asking his ex out. None of us could believe he’d gone this long without crawling back. It was apparent to all of us that Jill was patiently waiting for him because she wasn’t shy about putting down any advances other guys made towards her.

“I’ll tell him that you’re thinking of asking Jill to Prom. Maybe that will get him off his butt,” Johan suggested.

“Have you asked Gina?” I asked Wolf.

“Not yet. I might not ask her,” Wolf admitted.

We all whipped our heads around to make sure we heard right.

“She’s started to get on my nerves,” he explained.

“I would think you two would constantly be having make-up sex,” I teased.

“If only that ever happened,” Wolf said.

That made us all laugh.

“Shouldn’t I at least get some head?” Wolf asked.

“You really should wait until you’re married,” Johan counseled.

“He has a point,” I said with a straight face.

“Screw you, Dawson.”

“Hey, leave David alone. He’s the poster child for why you should wait,” Tim said.

“My mama didn’t raise no fool. I know to wrap it,” Wolf said.

“First, I will remind you, Wolf, about that time at Notre Dame when you didn’t wrap it. Second, karma is a bitch, and she is about to park both of your butts into that hedgerow up ahead,” I said, pointing.

“Settle down,” Johan said, playing peacemaker.

This was what I’d been missing. Just shooting the shit with the guys. I realized that I was a happy boy at that moment.

◊◊◊

Our second game was against Mt. Vernon. By now, fans had started to show up, and the bleachers were a quarter filled. We’d gotten lucky: we had a perfect spring day for baseball. The weather forecast predicted it would warm up to the mid-seventies.

My teammates were amused because a contingent of middle-school girls had taken up residence in the centerfield bleachers. They were trying everything they could to get my attention. I was doing my best to ignore them until one of my favorite songs came on over the PA system. I began to wiggle my butt to the beat of the music.

“Shake it, Baby!” one of them called.

My head whipped around, and I gave them a shocked look, which caused peals of giggles. I trotted out toward them.

“Show me what you can do,” I said as I began to dance.

It was funny to watch the girls collectively blush. Then one of them got brave and began to dance. Not wanting to be left out, the rest joined in. Their skill ranged from awkward to your mother would die if she saw you shaking your moneymaker like that.

When the song ended, I bowed to the young ladies and trotted back to my position in center field.

Bryan Callahan was pitching for us, with Yuri taking his place at shortstop. He got roughed up a little in the first inning, giving up two runs. In our half of the first, we went down in order. Bryan settled down in the second and got us out of their half of the inning with no further damage.

I came up first in the second inning. Moose had talked to the umpires about what had been happening with me. They’d warned Mt. Vernon that if they even accidentally hit me with a pitch, there would be ejections. If it happened twice, they would forfeit the game.

At least they were looking out for my safety; that made me happy. No matter how much safety gear you wore, getting drilled by a baseball hurt. And frankly, I was to the point where I might have to retaliate if it continued.

I understood that throwing at players was a way to throw them off their game or send them a message. But for cripes’ sake, this was high school baseball.

As I came up to bat, I saw their coach give a signal to the catcher. He, in turn, stepped over home plate and yelled out where he wanted everyone positioned. The second baseman and shortstop jogged out to the shallow outfield to let the outfielders know. They had done this a couple of times last inning.

I settled into the batter’s box and watched as their pitcher threw me four straight pitches that were way outside to walk me. While I trotted to first, I noticed them follow the same routine of relaying the defensive alignment. I had nearly reached the bag when the second baseman and shortstop began their jog to tell the outfielders.

I accelerated and made the turn at first and raced to second base. The crowd erupted to alert the infielders that something was happening. I made it easily.

Their coach came storming out of the dugout to protest. The umpire told him that it was a live play because they hadn’t called time to make their adjustments. While that chaos played out, Coach Haskins came over to get my elbow protector.

“That was a first. Keep being aggressive on the base paths,” he encouraged.

Yuri was up next. On his first pitch, he swung and missed on a perfect fastball. Their coach barked out something to the catcher, who turned his head to see what he wanted. I didn’t hesitate and broke towards third. Again, the crowd gave me away, causing the catcher to twirl around and throw.