The Baseball Player Next Door

Inning 5 ★ First Curveball

"Don't worry, I already texted your mom that I'll drive you home."

He stared me down. I could read his mind wishing that his eyes would suddenly develop laser beams. "I already did what you wanted and you sad you'd leave me alone."

"This is not what I wanted!" I shouted. "What I want is for you to give it your all and not half ass it."

"I didn't half ass it, I'm just out of shape."

Swift as a goddamn rabbit, I lifted his t-shirt and motioned at his freaking washboard abs.

Oh my god, Santiago had washboard abs.

I let that thought go and focused on my point. "You call this out of shape?" I sounded shrill even to my own ears, but I hadn't been expecting my point to be proven so beautifully. He pulled his t-shirt down with a sigh. "You have to get into varsity and your performance today barely cut it JV. We still have a chance of convincing my dad to put you were you belong but you have to-"

"Stop." Santi took a step back. "Stop trying to force me to do things I'm not ready for."

I cocked my head. "What the fuck are you talking about? You were varsity last year."

"Yeah and my brother was alive last year. Things change."

Now I took a step back. That felt like a physical blow.

We didn't talk for a while. The sky grew darker and a breeze picked up. When I looked back at him his eyes were squeezed shut with such force as if to hold back tears.

"It's okay to cry," I told him. "God knows I've cried entire rivers."

He opened them at the same time as the overhead lights turned on. I was blinded for a second. When I focused again he turned his back to me and sat on the sand, looking at the mound. I joined right beside him. He wasn't crying, not outwardly at least.

"I played ball in the streets over the summer," he said, raising his knees and resting his arms on them. "I couldn't touch a ball, you know, after the accident. But when I was there... I was far enough. It didn't matter to any of the kids down there what had happened. All they knew was that I was the gringo who spoke Spanish and could play."

I smiled a little. "Were they good?"

He grunted. "Real good. Some of these stooges don't hold a candle."

"It must be in the DNA."

He looked at me then. "I know it's in mine, I'm just..."

"Afraid of how great you are?"

He licked his lower lip and looked at the mound again. "No. Afraid of not measuring up, I guess."

"Santiago Miranda," I said, shifting so I could face him. "Are you jealous of your brother post mortem?"

He flinched. "You're making me sound like a douche."

"An insecure douche, maybe." I mused it for a second. The empty mound was really painful to look at. I could imagine Seb laughing at our conversation, making sure to let us know how stupid he believed we were. "I mean, I can't blame you. The green eyed monster has lived in me ever since you guys left me in the dust."

He motioned at his eyes. "I am the green eyed monster."

I elbowed him softly, just enough to nudge him out of the idiocy. "No, no. This is good. Here I've been thinking all along that you were some inhuman genius but it turns out you're just as insecure as the rest of them. But wanna know the fun stuff?"

After a pause he indulged me in asking, "What's the fun stuff?"

"Sebastian was jealous of you."

That threw him off. It threw him all the way off balance and he fell away from me on his side. "Don't be blasphemous with the dead."