“Nice hit Murdock,” Grayson’s coach called from far off.
“Thanks coach,” Gray called, watching as the small white projectile sailed out of the ball park and into the parking lot.
“Dang Gray, planning on giving the rest of us a chance?” one of his team mates asked, watching to as the ball sailed away. Gray looked over to his first basemen Reggie Lewis, an African American boy with a mouth like a sailor. He was scrawny, but had a good arm.
“Reggie, quit kissing ass and get to the plate,” Coach Miller called.
“Ah, coach, see what happened was…I was talkin’ to God last night, and he says it’s not my calling be a hitter, natural born pitcher I am, and-” he started.
“Lewis, hit the damn ball and quit blabbin’” Couch called. Grey laughed, Reggie was always trying to get out of bat practice, and last week he had said that his mamma had got hit with shopping cart fighting over a loaf of bread at Kroger that had been his best one yet.
Reggie stepped to the plate and Coach Miller readied to throw the ball. Tipping his blue Yankees hat (he wore it every day, he was the only one that hadn’t got the message that they sucked. Without warning he looked back, then forward, hiking his leg in the air, throwing the ball at home plate and right toward Reggie.
He missed…three times.
“That’s it, hit the showers you pack of girls,” he called. Grey rolled his eyes, did Miller have to be the stereotypical baseball coach, next thing you know he be eating big league chew and spiting sunflower seeds.
“It’s always coming right at me man, and then I feel like I’m going to die right there, just a pile of brown in the dugout,” Reggie stated. Reggie had been Grey’s best friend before he could remember; they had always had each other’s back.
“Yeah man, those palm size sports balls, going at five miles an hour sure can strike the fear of God into you,” Grey scoffed.
“You don’t know what I go through man,” Reggie shook his head. Grey just rolled his eyes, he was used to this.
“How are you going to be ready for the game next week Reg?” Grayson questioned as they walked into the locker room. The floors were hard and the cold sensations always shoot up his legs every time he took his cleats off.
“Easy, I’ll have my super star batter and best friend Grayson Murdock bat for me,” he grinned. “I mean we are like twins,” he joked.
Grey rolled his eyes; the funny thing about it was that this was the furthest thing from the truth. Grey’s family had come over seas from England, they were born and raised Brit’s, and he even had an accent, though he had gotten real good at his American one. He had a crop of sandy blond hair that almost looked bleached in some places. His eyes were a forest green that made his skin look Ivory, thus he was the object of most female affection at Carson High.
Reggie was, as said before, the complete opposite. He had skin the color of rich chocolate and what he called ‘a mini afro’ shaping his head. He had a 1995 St. Louis Cardinal’s hat that he wore backwards constantly, due to his dream of wanting to be a pitcher there.
Grey slipped on his jeans and T- shirt and sat down to start tying his shoes.
“So are you going to Grace’s party tonight?” Reggie asked as he started shoving his shirt over his head.
“Why would you want to go to Grace Johnston’s party, she’s kills cat’s for fun,” Grey asked perplexed.
“Because for one Sophia Broxterman is going to be there, and as your people say, ‘you know how I fancy her’” Reggie smiled.
“That’s nice Reg, real nice,” Grey stated sarcastically. “Besides, Sophia knows you’re a dog, she’s got the bible so far up her butt that she would probably smite you.” He smirked.
“I’ve been practicing; check it in the beginning, God made the heaven, and some girls, I think you’re one of ‘'em baby,” he grinned.
|Ezra Miller||as Jasper|
|Alex Pettyfer||as Grayson|
|Brandon T. Jackson||as Reggie|
|Daniel Radcliffe||as Jace|
|Kellan Lutz||as Wilhelm|
|Chris Zylka||as Christopher|