Stop Making Eyes At Me | JENSOO

Chapter 8

"Come on, kiddo, you can do it!" Jisoo calls, her hands cupped in front of her mouth.

She whoops as the seven-year-old at home plate hits a ball in the direction of left field and, just a little casually, runs to first base.

Dara, sitting on the bleachers next to Jisoo, squints over her sunglasses. "Hey, not bad. I might have to start recruiting. We'll have to do some work on the running discipline, though."

Jisoo sits back down and smacks her sister on the shoulder. "Hey! Leave my kid alone!"

Dara grins at her. "You ran better at that age."

"Yeah, because you chased me."

They bicker a bit as they pay attention to the game, until the second of Jisoo's twin daughters gets up to the plate, at which point Jisoo bolts up to stand and cheer again.

The little girl strikes out, but she looks at her mother through the fence, grins, and shrugs, and Jisoo beams back at her.

All is well, until the weakest player on the team, a small, nervous boy, comes up to the plate.

And the trouble starts.

"Choke up on the bat!" his father screams from the seat behind Jisoo and Dara. "Where are you looking? Don't swing at that! That's way out of the zone! Are you blind? Come on, Oliver! Hey! Pay attention to the ball! Run! RUN FASTER!"

He mutters a stream of curses under his breath as his son gets out at first. "Damn kid'll never play for the A's."

Jisoo clenches her hand in her lap, and Dara sighs. "Here it goes," she mumbles.

"Sir, you do realize that they're seven, right?" Jisoo says, her voice ice cold as she turns to face the father. "They have plenty of time to be good at baseball. And besides, the odds of playing for the Majors? Slim to none. The sport is just for fun. Let the kids have fun. If you can't handle that, please do us all, including your son, a favor and never come to a game again."

"I can encourage my son as much as I want," the man snarls in response.

"Mm, yeah, but it's not so much encouragement as pressuring the poor kid and making him do worse during the desperate effort to please you."

Dara, not even turning around, raises her hand. "College coach. I can second that observation."

The man splutters to come up with a reply before simply glaring and moving over to the other end of the bleachers.

At that precise moment, Jennie joins Jisoo and Dara with a four-year-old boy on her shoulders.

"Aw," Jennie says, sounding disappointed. "Did I miss Jisoo ripping apart a jerk parent again?"

"Sadly, she didn't threaten to deck him," Dara comments.

"That was just strike one," Jisoo mutters darkly.

"Mama," the boy on Jennie's shoulders says brightly, "we won!"

"You did? That's great, buddy!"

He proudly pats the filthy #27 on the chest of his tee ball uniform. "I catched a ball! Two times!"

Jennie reaches up to adjust the hat on her son's head, grinning affectionately. "Mhm. They were sort of easy little pop-ups, but he did a good job. He's making progress." She winks at Dara. "Maybe he'll see the error of his little outfielder ways and switch to catcher sometime."