The Perfect Game

The sun warmed my body the moment I stepped out of the three-story Communications & Arts Building. A gentle breeze swept across my face as I observed my fellow students. Some rushed to get to class, while others fought for sunny areas on the lawn. I smiled as I passed a long-haired kid playing the guitar. He played under the same tree every day, and I started to wonder if he was a student at all or if he just liked being on the large, sprawling campus.

I passed by the university bookstore and shops, making a mental note to pick up two scantrons for my upcoming tests. Herds of people milled in and out of the student union entrance as I walked in. My eyes immediately fell on Jack and his harem of fans. I couldn’t get over how I’d never noticed it before, but now it was all I saw. He flexed his muscles for a couple of girls who screamed when they grabbed on to his bicep. I heard him say, “Hold on,” as he lifted them into the air. I frowned with disgust as he demonstrated his pitching motion in slow speed, much to the delight of the squealing girls.

“He is such an attention whore.” I slammed my body down in the seat across from Melissa.

“Then stop paying attention to him.”

“It’s sort of hard not to when he’s always creating a spectacle.” I waved my arms toward the gaggle of girls following his every move.

“Hi, Melissa.” A deep voice interrupted my Jack-bashing.

“Oh…hi, Dean,” Melissa responded, her voice all soft and sweet. I shot a quick glance at her under my eyelashes, and smiled to myself.

“Would you mind if I sat with you?” Dean smiled when he asked and kept his hazel eyes locked on Melissa’s.

“No. We’re much better company than your brother’s table anyway,” she teased, poking him in the ribs.

He glanced in Jack’s direction, shaking his head. “It just gets old sometimes, you know?” He placed a slice of pizza on the table and sat down.

“Hi, I’m Dean.” He stretched his hand across the table.

“I’m Cassie. I’m Melissa’s roommate.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“It’s nice to—”

“Dean! What are you doing over here?” Jack’s sultry voice echoed throughout the student union, and I felt my stomach lurch. I lifted my gaze to find him staring at me, so I pinched my lips together, hoping my annoyance would be loud and clear.

“Oh, Kitten. I see you’ve met my little brother.” Jack winked before placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezing.

“Thank God he seems nothing like you. I might actually be able to tolerate him.” I tilted my head and smiled sharply before taking a bite of my turkey sandwich. I noticed Melissa and Jack sharing an amused glance, and I wanted to kick Melissa under the table. The last time I did that it left an ugly bruise on her shin and she didn’t speak to me for days, so I restrained myself.

“You need me to work some of that aggression out of you?” Jack offered with a sexy smile.

My mouth was full, but I didn’t let that stop me. “I’d rather eat dirt.”

“I almost want to see that.” Jack chuckled and one dimple appeared on his cheek.

“You would. Go torture someone else,” I begged, nibbling at my sandwich before looking away.

“But I like torturing you.” He grinned and moved to sit next to me.

“Uh, no!” I shouted before throwing my bag right where he was about to plop his perfect little ass. He stopped short and stood back up.

“Why so angry, Kitten?”

“Why so annoying, jackass?” I mimicked his tone.

I had just taken a bite of my pickle when Jack’s warm breath in my ear stopped my chewing. “You’ll come around. You’ll see. You can’t resist me forever.”

I suddenly had the urge to spit my half-chewed food all over his arrogant face. The thought of doing it made me laugh, and I accidentally inhaled a little of what I was chewing. As I choked and struggled to swallow, he walked away smiling.

“Sorry about my brother. He isn’t really a jerk.” Dean smiled as he defended his brother, his head cocked to one side with sincerity.

I coughed to clear my throat and picked up a napkin. “He just plays one on TV?”

“Something like that. Don’t take him too seriously. He’s just having fun with you.”

I half smiled. “But I’m not having fun.”

“But you are. And he knows it,” Dean added, his expression a mixture of confidence and knowing.

I didn’t respond to Dean’s accusation, not wanting to prove him right…or wrong. I took a healthy bite of my sandwich when Jack walked back over to our table. Caught with a mouth full of food again, I couldn’t speak, so I simply narrowed my eyes and glared at him.

He shoved a napkin into my hand and walked away without saying a word. I started to unfold it before reading #23 on the field, #1 in your heart, followed by some numbers written in black ink. I quickly crumpled it up and threw it in my bag.

“What was that?” Melissa interrupted the thoughts swirling around in my head.

I swallowed. “His phone number, I think. I didn’t really look at it.”

“He gave you his number?” Dean’s face appeared puzzled.

“I think. Maybe I’m wrong. I’ll look at it later.” I was suddenly embarrassed at the assumption that Jack had given me his number, when maybe it wasn’t Jack’s number at all.

Melissa turned toward Dean. “What’s with the face?”

“He doesn’t give out his phone number. There’s no point with him.” Dean’s gaze darted from my face to Jack’s, turning his head to scrutinize his brother, now sitting several tables away.

“He has a cell phone, right?” Melissa asked, her head bobbing.

“Yeah…?” Dean responded, dragging out the word like a question.

“I’m just saying, caller ID!” She rolled her eyes.

“His number is private. It doesn’t show up.”

“Really? Who does that?” Melissa’s face crinkled.

“Someone who had to change his phone number fifteen times in high school because it never stopped ringing, or pinging with text messages.”

“Fifteen times?” I asked, far louder than I intended. I ducked my head as several people sitting nearby stared at me with curiosity.

“It might have been more, but it was insane. The girls would post his number online and then his voice mail would fill up within a day. And then they’d all start calling my phone looking for him when he didn’t answer.”

“Holy shit, that’s bananas!” Melissa laughed at the insanity.

“That’s why it’s weird that he’d give you his number. He doesn’t give anyone his number.” Dean shook his head.

“Well, like I said, I could be wrong,” I quickly recanted.

Melissa gestured toward my bag. “Then get it out and read it now.”

Heat spread throughout my cheeks and down my neck to my chest. “No. Not in the freaking student union while he’s right over there, thanks. Later.”

I rose from the table, grabbed my bag and my trash, and walked nonchalantly past Jack and his pack of groupies. I heard the sound of female voices whining when Jack pulled himself away to jog over and catch up with me.

“I expect you to call me, Kitten.”

“I’m sure you expect a lot of things,” I said rudely, refusing to look at him as his stride slowed and he let me walk away.

“Come to my game tonight!” he shouted when I opened the glass doors.

I turned toward him before walking out. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t you want to see me pitch?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice cocky.

I tilted my head, holding the door open with one arm. “I saw you pitching earlier. In slow motion, remember? I think I got the gist.”

The glass door closed behind me with a loud bang and I walked to my next class, wondering how long I’d be able to resist him.

*****

I opened the door to our two-bedroom apartment, the smell of this morning’s bacon still lingering in the air. Mail and schoolwork were strewn across the top of our table, and I added my backpack to the mess.

Melissa sat watching TV on our L-shaped couch while eating a bowl full of cottage cheese and green grapes. I smiled at her odd food combination and headed straight into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and some chips from the cupboard.

I took a sip of the water, letting the cool moisture replenish my dehydrated body.

“So, we’re going to the baseball game tonight,” she informed me, and the water in my mouth sprayed out all over the carpet.

“Shit.” I laughed and grabbed a towel before bending down to soak up the mess. “You might be, but I’m staying here.”

“Cassie, the whole school goes to the baseball games. It’s like the state of Texas and high school football.” Her head tilted as I looked up from my carpet cleaning, my eyes clearly confused. “Friday Night Lights, hello? Ugh, don’t you watch any TV?”

I chuckled at her frustration with me as she continued. “Anyway, everyone goes. Especially when Jack’s pitching. It’s sort of a spectacle, really.”

“How so?” I asked, tossing the wet towel into the sink before leaning my shoulder against the wall.

She glanced up toward the ceiling and pursed her lips together. Then she looked back at me, draping her body over the side of the couch. “Well, a ton of scouts are there for starters. And reporters from all the local newspapers and TV stations. You just have to see it. Even if you only go to one game, Cassie, it has to be one when Jack’s pitching. Plus, you can take some really cool pictures for that Tuck magazine, or whatever it’s called.”

My eyebrows lifted at the thought of photographing the school’s new stadium and fans. “It’s called Trunk,” I corrected, referring to the university’s student-run magazine. “And someone is already assigned to the baseball team. But I do need to work on my night photography.” I pulled away from the wall and glanced at my camera bag, mulling the idea over.

“And you can work on your action shots too,” she added with a sly smirk.

I rolled my eyes. “Three hours ago you hated this guy, and now you’re like his biggest fan. What gives?”

“Excuse me!” Her voice was animated as she held up one finger. “Jack Carter the guy sucks and should be avoided at all costs. Jack Carter the baseball player is totally amazeballs and should be observed whenever possible. You see the difference?”

I laughed at her insane logic. “They’re both the same guy. Just want to put that out there before I agree to go.”

Her eyes lit up as a grin spread across her face. “You’ll see. So you’ll go with me then?”

I released a breath and closed my eyes. “Yes. I’ll go with you,” I promised, doing my best to sound disappointed.

Her squeals of delight filled the air and I couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation welling within me. I didn’t want to be excited to see Jack in his element…but I was. But I’d be damned if I was going to admit it.