All Rise - Aaron Judge -

4- Pizza

I closed the door to my hotel room, leaning against it. 

All around, tonight was a shit show. The fight, Aaron telling me to get lost, Aaron saying Joe caused the fight, Aaron coming onto the damn bus to give me his number and apologize for saying that. Andrew barely talked on the short ride to the hotel, and Mookie and X didn't reply to my texts.

Aaron was definitely a big part of the shit show. 

I sighed, walking over to my bed and dropping my bag with my speaker and snacks on my suitcase, taking off my pants and falling onto the bed. 

I was way too tired to put on bottoms just to sleep in, so I was just going to sleep in my jersey. It was super comfortable, too, since it was summer and still warm in here with or without the AC. 

I leaned off the bed, grabbing my pants and grabbing the paper from the back pocket. 

(917)- 828- 7212

I threw the pants at my suitcase and laid my head down, looking at the phone number. 'Aaron' was written messily. 

Like I would forget whose number I had with a New York area code. 

If I wasn't related to a major league baseball player and best friends with most of a team, I would've been freaking the fuck out. I mean, I am minorly freaking the fuck out right now, but I don't have enough energy to outwardly react. 

And I wasn't freaking out because he's a baseball player. I was freaking out because there are so many things that could go wrong if I used this number. 

But it wouldn't hurt too much, would it?

Fuck it.

I'll deal with the problems later. 

I grabbed my phone, unlocking it and pulling up the message app. 

Hey

Three letters. One simple word. 

My chest felt tight and I immediately regretted sending the text. 

What the hell is wrong with me? What is going on in my mind that is making me think even being friends with a Yankee would work?  What if he didn't respond? What if Andrew somehow found out and actually got mad at me? Why did I feel like I needed to text him? Why did I text him in the first place? 

What the hell is wrong with me?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Ten seconds later, my phone was ringing. Aaron was calling me. My eyes widened and I froze. Why is he calling me?! 

I hate phone calls! I get sidetracked so easily! 

Fuck, I wish Alyssa was here. She could help me out. 

I took a deep breath, calming my self down. I slowly slid my finger over the screen, answering the call. "Hi," I answered quietly. 

"You actually texted me," Aaron pointed out. 

Okay, that was kind of adorable. He seems a little flustered, cute. 

"I did." Not sure how I feel about it just yet.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I was still angry, and I know what Tyler did. I get why you got angry. Tyler was in the wrong, and so was Joe. It's not one single person's fault. I guess I was just being stubborn and couldn't admit that Tyler didn't really help anything with his slide," he said and I smiled a little. 

He was rambling. He's adorable when he rambles. 

"I know." This was going okay. 

I heard him sigh and I looked up at the ceiling. "I think you did good tonight," I told him. He let out a breathy laugh.