carter + micah

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m i c a h *

"Micah! You're up to pitch!" Coach Andrews calls to me.
"Got it!" I call back. I'm on the school's baseball team, and we have our first game tomorrow evening.
"Alright, boys!" Coach begins as we take a ten-minute break. "We have to win tomorrow! It's our first game!"
"Coach?" One of my teammates asks- Carter Jones. Carter and I are in the same grade; we're friends, but we're not really that close but he's super sweet.
"Yes, sir?" Coach replies.
"What time do we need to be here tomorrow?"
"Um, preferably by 5:00. The game starts at six, so by being here by five, we have enough time to warm up a little bit,"

"Hey," A voice says behind me in the locker room after practice.
I turn around. "Hey, Carter, how are you doing?"
"I'm alright. How are you?"
"I'm good," I say, looking at him. I'd never really noticed before but he is really cute.
"This is going to sound really weird, and I understand if you can't, but is there any way that you can give me a ride home? My mom can't get off in time to get me."
"Yeah, I'd love too!"
"Awesome. Thank you!"

Carter and I get in my car.
I turn to him. "Where are we going?" I ask him.
"I'll tell you where to turn because it's really confusing to say," he tells me with a small laugh.

"Okay, so you're gonna turn left here," Carter tells me.
I turn onto the street.
"Now, this is where it's going to get a little bit confusing," Carter says. "Turn right here, go up the hill, turn left, go up the next hill, go straight, and it's the house at the end of the street,"
I follow his directions and end up at his house; a blue two-story house with a white front door.
"I can pick you up for the game tomorrow if you'd like?" I tell him, phrasing it more as a question rather than a statement.
"I'd appreciate that thank you," he says.
We stare at each other for a few seconds. He turns to get out of the car, but I grab his wrist.
"Do you need a ride tomorrow morning?" I ask him, wanting to spend all of time with him.
"I think I'll be okay," he says.
"Well, if anything changes, just text me, alright?"
He nods.
"Come here," I whisper softly. He leans in, letting me kiss him softly. I put my hand on the back of his neck, tucking my hand in his hair, my other hand on his arm.


The next day at the end of the school day, Carter comes up to me at my locker.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey," I reply, looking at him. "You excited for the game tonight?"
"Yes, I'm so ready! But I actually--do you have a minute?"
"Yeah, you wanna go grab something to eat before the game?"
"Yeah, I can leave my stuff in the locker room?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm doing," I tell him.
We walk out to my car together.
"What's up?" I ask him.
"I just wanna--if you don't want to be friends with me or whatever, I understand," he says.
"What do you mean?"
"I know that you kissed me last night, but if you don't wanna--"
"I kissed you, Carter. I did it for a reason. I like you, Carter,"
He lets out a breath that sounds like he'd been holding it in. "I like you too, Micah,"
I smile at him and then lean and press my lips against his.
"Let's go get something to eat," I tell him.


We're in the fifth inning (of seven) when it happens. It takes a few seconds for anyone to even notice that he's down.
"TIMEOUT!" Coach calls. I'm not sure why he's called a timeout until I turn around. Carter is on the ground, covered in dirt, and cradling his wrist.
I throw down my bat, not caring what anyone is saying, and run over to him, sinking down to his level.
"Hey, what happened?" I ask him. "What happened? I'm right here. What happened?"
He's breathing heavily and crying silently.
"Come here," I tell him as I pull him against me. My legs spread apart so he can lean against me.
"What happened?" I ask him. The team is all starting to gather around as Coach calls 9-1-1; the spectators are gathering around the fence. The other team is standing around awkwardly, but still watching, nonetheless. I press my lips to his forehead.
"What happened, Carter?" I ask him again.
He leans back against me, trying to look at me, but still cradling his wrist.
"I don't know what exactly happened, I was trying to catch the ball and went running to the outfield. I don't know if I got pushed or if I tripped, but I tried to catch myself as I was falling but my hand gave out and I landed on it and I heard it pop. It hurts really bad, Micah," he says, wincing at the end.
"I know, I know, ssh, I know, Coach called 9-1-1, is your mom here?" I ask him.
He shakes his head. "No, she's a travel nurse, she left this morning, it's just her and I at home. My dad lives out of state, and so do my siblings and grandparents."
I pull him onto my lap, wrapping my arms around him.
"Do you want me to go with you?" I ask him.
He nods and closes his eyes.
"Don't-don't close your eyes, Car, I know it hurts, but you can't close your eyes," I say.

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