At the Heart of it All

Part Thirteen - Shortstop

Who goes outside in friggin' five degree weather?

My hands are so cold that they ache. The air is sharp and stings when it enters my lungs. My head - with my hair still in two French braids from last night - is hidden beneath the semi-warmth of the hood on my sweater.

The only good part about weather this cold is that I can't feel the lactic acid building in my muscles as I run.

I know what everyone's thinking - five degrees isn't that cold. I would agree, except for the fact that it's nearly November and this is the first time since last winter that the temperature's dropped this far. There's usually some days like these in September where everyone can get used to the frigidity of fall. I didn't get that this year.

I'm freezing.

K.J. comes up behind me, looking just as cold as I feel. There's a conspiratorial grin on her face.

"So," She starts. "How was your date with Andrew?" She says his name in a singsong voice, like she expects me to start gushing over him. Then again, maybe she does. Andrew's pretty much exactly the type of guy I would tend to go for.

I shrug, frowning a little at the reminder.

"Meh." I say nonchalantly. "It was fine."

K.J. looks a bit confused.

"But . . . I mean . . . he's totally perfect for you!" She sputters. I give a breathy laugh.

"That's what I thought! He's pretty dry, though." K.J. raises her eyebrows.

"Hm. Do I need to hear details?" I shake my head.

"Nah, there aren't really any details to speak of - we went bowling for half an hour and parted ways."

A somewhat disgusted look crosses K.J.'s face. I chuckle.

"I know."

"Only half an hour? I thought you had to pay for an hour . . . ?"

I shrug, really not feeling like going into it. K.J. doesn't question me any further. 

We're nearly done the laps when Ms. Craig yells at us to hurry up. Everyone else is already finished.

We start playing.

Can you guess where I start?

Outfield?

You got it.

"Now today," Ms. Craig begins. "I want to see you guys in proper form, alright? Four infielders and three outfielders."

I take an outfield position, knowing that I'm not a strong enough player to play one of the bases. The other option would be shortstop, but Beckett likes to play shortstop. Not that I'd be good enough to do it, anyways.

It takes me a few minutes to realize that Beckett isn't playing shortstop. In fact - he's not here at all. 

I wander between second and third base, taking up position where Beckett would have. Maybe I'll have actually learned something, from all the time that I spend watching him. 

Jeremy hits first, and he fouls all of his balls past the baseline.

I'm preparing to catch something from someone who can actually hit when I hear a voice call out from across the field. 

"Sorry I'm late, Ms. Craig."

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Hey everybody - long time no see, hm?