Bases Loaded Jam (Bases Loaded Jam Series #1)

Ch. 9: Strike One (Jordan)

Getting up on Sunday morning after last night's party was simply too much to do. Even though I wasn't drinking that night, I felt like crashing and sleeping in the whole entire day. However, I was more concerned about Stacia, who had so much to drink that I knew a hangover was going to happen.

I woke up at 9:30 AM and immediately realized that we didn't have a trash bin or some trash bags. We had let someone else borrow our original ones after there's had been turned into props for a science experiment. So I decided to go to a local store that morning. Aside from the bags and bin, I was able to bring bottles of water and some medication in case Stacia suffered a headache. When I returned, Wilma was leaving the room.

"Stacia is about to wake up," she said. "You bring the stuff?"

I showed her the groceries I had and she nodded.

"I'm going to the library to work on homework. But I'll be back to check on her."

With that, Wilma took off while I went inside. I went to see Stacia, who was waking up.

"Morning sleepyhead," I said. "Sleep well?"

"I had this weird dream," said Stacia. "We were partying and I must've had a lot to drink. Then some cops came in and caused a ruckus. And then..."

She rose her head and looked around to see where she was.

"How did we get back here?"

I explained the events of last night to her.

"Well, I guess that wasn't a dream," she said. Just before she was about to speak, her face started to look funny. She looked like she wanted to cough, but knowing hangovers, I could see what it was.

"Here," I said handing her the first thing I grabbed, which was the bin. She grabbed it and started to throw up. I hated seeing her like that because I knew the smell of vomit would be in the air and it would mean a long, pain-staking process of cleanup.

When she finished, I gave her a bottle of water and grabbed the bin. Without really thinking, I went to the kitchen sink and rinsed the sickening out of the bin. Using a sponge and soap, I scrubbed and scrubbed until I could no longer feel the smell. As soon as I was done, Stacia was slowly getting up. Wilma and I had changed her outfit the night before and she was now wearing pajama bottoms and a Hollywood t-shirt I had brought from home. Her hair was a total mess as she walked to the kitchen counter.

"I guess I should use the toilet from here on out," she suggested.

"I think you should quit the drinking," I replied. "You could potentially ruin yourself before you start your softball career.

"Oh relax. As soon as softball season starts, I'll tone it down."

"Softball season starts tomorrow."

"It's only preseason. We don't play games until spring."

"Yes, but we have to do strength and conditioning, hitting in the cages, and work on situational softball."

"I still don't get why we have to do that. We never did that in high school."

That surprised me to hear her say they didn't do offseason workouts.

"Then how could you prepare for games?"

"We just went on field trips for group activities and such. Our season didn't start until January when we got to hit in the cages."

"No wonder your team was bad."

"Hey! That's not fair to criticize my high school team."

It was true. Stacia's high school team was never good in Texas. I would bet the worst high school team in California would beat her team. Hell, I would bet even a little league softball team would beat her high school team. From what she told me, her team won three games in her high school career. Most of the scores were so lopsided that they rarely went to the full seven-innings of softball.