Do You Know Indigo?

Chapter Twenty

Later, after a wasted hour of art, I headed to PE. During my previous class Kieran seemed to have a fixed, confused look on his face. Surely the process of Dahli was no mystery to him. Still, his far away expression made me anxious.

Whilst changing for gym I was clumsy and forgot about my savage bruises. The two girls who stood opposite took long hard looks before realising they were being rude. They didn't say anything though, and Beth was too busy chattering about Andy Smith in shorts to realise.

Quickly, I glanced at the thunderous bruises engulfing my arms before hiding them beneath my jumper. I promptly made my way out of the cramped changing room before anyone else suspected anything.

It was softball season, my favourite season aside from tag rugby - possibly because I lacked any grace whatsoever. I begged my gym teacher Mr Frasier to let me play, not caring that my arm was broken. He agreed, proclaiming that on my head be it. Chucking me a mitt, he ordered me to stand in back stop position before he changed his mind.

I stretched off confidently, only wincing when pulling the skin were my bruises lay. Mr Frasier split us into two teams. While Beth and I remained together, Kieran was on the opposing team with the likes of Sarah Davis and David Wicks. This would be fun.

We took our places; my team batting. This was more than a game of softball, this was war.

Mr Frasier threw the ball. Sandy Mitchell bent his legs down and swung the bat with a frightening swish. Like a bullet from a gun the ball flew through the air. Sandy dropped the bat and began to race around the bases. Sandy and I had frequently bonded over softball before his friends started giving us stick for it.

I watched as Sandy turned to check where the ball was and was pleased to see it was miles away. With ease he soared past home, pumping his fist. He looked my way for praise and I grinned.

"That is how you play softball." Mr Frasier smirked as Sandy stuck his tongue out at me on the way to the back of the line.

Boys.

My body ached after only fifteen minutes of play. I folded my arms across my chest, being careful of my broken one. Beth had seen me flinch, aware something was amiss.

"What's the matter? Are your arms OK?" she asked.

"Course, why wouldn't they be?" I assured her, trying to make my current stance appear natural. She showed no sign of suspicion but then not only she was a drama queen.

"I don't think you should be playing even if it's only back stop," she lectured before going to bat. I shrugged her off, she knew I was too competitive to watch from the sidelines.

Our team were four runs up and fielding once more. I stood waiting for the ball to enter the thatched pocket of my glove. David Wicks was batting, not a great risk to the current standings. Half-heartedly he smacked the ball and charged to first base. I caught the in coming ball and placed my foot on the home base resulting in Jenna Holmes, an athletic wonder, being the second person in her team to be put out.

The next batter took their place. A sharp, cool twinge forked its way down my spine. Kieran would be standing behind me glaring with his indigo eyes. I whipped my head around to confront him.

"Can I help you?" I questioned nonchalantly, the chill of his glare unnerving me. He raised an eyebrow. I waited for his reply, not enjoying his clear inspection of me. "Well?" I growled, forgetting to keep an eye on the ball racing towards the batter.

"Now you mention it," he began after I heard the crack of the bat and ball. I groaned.

"One second." I spun and after a moment caught the ball that was on its way back to where the batter had once stood. Quickly, I shifted onto the base but David Wicks had wisely remained in third.