Hiya!!!!
Let me start off as usual by thanking you guys for your amazing love and support. I half laughed and cried tears of joy reading the comments. Comments make me so freaking happy FYI.
Sorry this took forever and a half to post. Softball season is back in full swing.
This chapter does talk about when Gloria was on the heavier side in her childhood. I DO NOT want to offend anyone with anything I say, so please don't take any of this seriously or think this is meant to be hurtful. That's not the aim of this story or chapter. If you do find anything very seriously wrong or degrading, please let me know, so I can fix it without offending more people.
Love,
Elle
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"Bullshit!"
Nathan picked up the stack of cards, casting me an irritated look.
"One four," Dylan mumbled, putting one card on the floor, face down.
"Bullshit!" I sang again.
He groaned and picked up the card that he had just tried to put down.
Dylan, Nathan, Danny, Jackson, Harrison, and I were at an intense game of BS on the floor of Danny and Jackson's room. I couldn't fool anyone at the beginning of the game because I was a terrible liar when it comes to games, so I currently had over half the deck in my hand. This was annoying the crap out of everyone else though. With so many of the cards, I could call them out left and right.
"One five," Jackson muttered, setting down the card face down.
I looked over my deck, and cried out another, "Bullshit!"
All the guys were down to about four or five cards, so I could basically say bullshit for all of them.
It was my turn to lay down a six. I scanned my large assortment of cards and pulled out one six and tossed it down in the middle of the circle.
"One six," I declared.
No one said anything.
"One seven," Harrison exhaled, setting down one card.
"Wait, are you out?" I questioned, looking down at his card-free hands.
"Yeah," he said with a small smile forming.
"Bull fucking shit!" I cried, picking up his card and flipping it over.
Unfortunately, when I turned over the card to face up, a seven of diamonds was looking back at me.
"How do you win at every card game you play?" I pouted, throwing my huge hand of cards on top of the pile.
Harrison shrugged, but that tiny smirk never left his face.
I really liked playing cards when we had free time, and I usually played with Harrison. It was almost annoying to play with the little punk though. I have never won a hand of cards against him. I don't know what it is, but he always finds a way to beat me.
An idea suddenly popped into my head as I gathered the rest of the cards in to a pile.
"Do you wanna play another card game?" I asked casually.
"Sure," he agreed. The little sucker just loves to beat my ass in every card game known to man.
I stood up with the pile of cards in hand and shuffled a few times before dropping the whole stack on Harrison's head.
"It's called 52 card pickup and you just won," I chuckled as Harrison looked up at me from the floor with the smirk gone from his face.
He grumbled at me as he picked up the scattered cards.
"I'll have to remember that one," Jackson chuckled as we watched Harrison pick up the playing cards.
"I always seem to lose that one."
"I wonder why."
It was four in the afternoon, and we had spent most of the day doing basically nothing. Luckily, no physical harm was done to Miles or me after we pulled our little stunt this morning. Danny did ruffle up Miles's hair, which he got a few punches in the stomach in retaliation.
"What now?" Nathan piped up, sitting on the floor still.
It was still a few hours until dinner, and we had basically nothing to do until then.
"I don't know, but I'm bored," Danny whined in agreement.
"Can you cut the whining. I don't know how much more of your wimpy ass I can take," Miles quipped.
"My wimpy ass?" Danny questioned before lunging at Miles.
Both of them tumbled to the floor before wrestling like two five year olds. All of us sat there waiting for them to finish their little play fight.
"You hit like a girl," Miles chuckled, trying to pin Danny on the floor.
"Hey!" I yelped, smacking him across the shoulder with some more force than I usually do.
"Two against one isn't fair," Miles complained, attempting to swat me away while holding Danny down.
They pulled on each other's shirts and grabbed on to their arms and legs. Laughter was now erupting from the center of their wrestling.
"Can you two be done already?" I huffed, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"We will just conclude that you both are wimpy asses, alright? Happy?" Jackson asked, yanking at Miles's shirt.
They both eventually let go of each other and stood up.
"Idiots." I rolled my eyes before going towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Harrison questioned.
"I have a couple of college applications to look at," I answered, looking back.
"Already?"
"Early enrollment."
College has never not been an option for me. My dad harped to me when I was younger about how I was going to college no matter what. It was not an option for me not to go. When I got to be a freshman, I really started looking in to schools and where I wanted to go. I wanted baseball to be a part of it, so I needed to start early, especially since coaches would have to be more persuaded to let me play.
About sophomore year was when I started writing emails to coaches to have them come watch me play. It unfortunately, was a struggle to get them out there. Eventually, I got a few colleges to come watch and that included my number one choice at that point, Georgetown. My dad went to Georgetown and played baseball there for all four years before putting himself up for the draft.
I took a visit and fell in love with the school. The Georgetown coach became interested after watching a few games. He eventually had accepted the fact that if I got in, he would have a girl on the team. I commited in December and all that was left is the application. The application was for Georgetown, so hopefully I will get in. It's a tough school to get in to, so I'm hoping that baseball will push me over the fence to getting in.
Miles pulled the key out of his cargo shorts pocket and tossed it to me, which I caught before heading back to our room.
The application was in the bottom drawer of my night table among other things, including the picture I kept with me. I could see the corner of the picture peeking out from under some other stuff I had in there. I couldn't help but stare at the curling corner in slight disgust before closing the drawer firmly. I flipped open the top and brought up the tab for the Common Core.
I began filling out all of the general information at the top, beginning with my name and birthday. When I got down to the items about my mom's income, Miles walked through the door.
"Hard at work, Princess?" he teased, collapsing on to his bed.
I couldn't help it, but my heart did a little flip at the mention of the stupid pet name.
"Yep, and it's slowly getting there."
"Where are you applying to for early admission?"
It was dumb, but my heart did it again. Everyone in their right mind would ask that question. It was more exciting though because it sounded like he cared.
"Georgetown," I finally squeaked after probably sitting there like an idiot, rolling over his simple question in my mind.
"That's a really good school. Are you trying for baseball too?"
"The coach has offered me a spot, and I'm going to sign in January hopefully."
"Gloria, I had no idea. That's great!" Miles exclaimed, sitting up in his bed.
"It's not that big of a deal," I mumbled, hiding a grin by lowering my face closer to the computer.
"You're going to play D1. Do not downgrade yourself. That's a huge accomplishment."
I glanced up and smiled at him softly. "Thanks, Miles."
"I'm excited for you," he said before leaping up and springing on to my bed.
The bed dipped down with the extra weight, and the momentum caused me to lean heavily on Miles's shoulder. I did my best to keep up right and continue to fill the application out as Miles sat next to me, quietly looking over my shoulder. My right shoulder was resting back on Miles's left shoulder. His body spilled out heat and enclosed me in his warmth. I could barely think straight at our proximity.
"Gloria Carmen, huh?" Miles said, poking me in the side. His breath fanned across my ear and side of my cheek. After several seconds of getting my heart beat somewhat under control, I answered.
"Yeah. What about you, Miles Harris?" I poked back.
"Miles Everett Harris, at your service."
"Everett. I like that." And I really did. It was a freaking hot name. Miles Everett Harris. Miles Everett Harris. Miles Everett Harris.
"I'm glad I am blessed with your acceptance."
"You should be."
"Are you going to fill out any more applications?" Miles asked, leaning over the bed to rummage through the bottom drawer.
As soon as he started to poke around in my drawer, I realized the mistake. The picture was partially visible, and I am not sure if I am mentally ready for him to find out that part of me. I prayed to God that he would just be unobservant and not see it, but in less than five seconds, he spoke.
"What is this?" he asked, pulling a piece of paper out of the drawer. Unfortunately, I found that the piece of paper was the photo.
I nibbled on my bottom lip as he stared at the crumpled picture of a overweight red headed girl that looked oddly similar to me. I could see the puzzle pieces going in to place as he continued to stare.
"Is that you?" he questioned, quietly.
I sighed before answering. "Yeah," I whispered.
We sat in silence as his eyes never left the picture or occasionally, he would glance at me to look at the resemblance.
"Is this one of the things you were going to eventually tell me?" he finally questioned, playing with one of the curling edges.
"More or less," I answered vaguely.
"Do you wanna start now?"
"I guess."
"I don't wanna rush you into it, but this is probably good intro into the topic."
I shuffled around the bed for a moment before taking the fading picture between my own fingers.
"I was about eleven when this picture was taken. This is my German Shepard, I was describing when he was a puppy."
Taking a breath before I continued, I collected my thoughts the best I could.
"I was always a little overweight since I was very little. My dad spoiled me a lot, so food was not hard to come by for me. All through elementary school, I had weight problems and was bullied all the time. I was very quiet back then because no one wanted to be friends with the girl who weighed more than everyone else. It was especially rough after my dad passed. I ate the sadness and depression away, so I only got heavier but not any better mentally. It got so bad that I would sneak food into my room, and whenever my mom left me home alone, I had a feast. I even quit baseball after my dad died because I couldn't take any thing around me that reminded me of him. It was when my mom came out of her drop into depression that she made me realize what I had done to myself. My mom is my hero. If it hadn't been for her, who knows if I would even be here."
The sentences had spilled out one after another with almost no control from my brain. My words hung in the air almost if they had to wait their turn to be analyzed by Miles's brain.
"Why is that such a big secret for you?" Miles asked finally. His question caught me off guard to say the least. It wasn't exactly what I thought he was going to say.
I couldn't even open my mouth to answer the question though. Why do I consider that to be such a big secret?
"I guess, just because it's something in the past that I'm trying to distance myself from."
"It's a pretty incredible thing that you did."
"It needed to be done."
"There you go, downgrading yourself again."
"I'm not downgrading myself. I'm simply saying how I feel," I huffed.
"You've told me all these great things that you've done, and then talk shit about yourself. You're an amazing person, Gloria. You just haven't realized it yet."
My heart slammed against my chest at the endearing words. Why was he being so kind and sweet to me? His words never failed to raise the pounding of my heart beat recently.
We sat in silence staring down at the computer screen in my lap. His hand had made its way down to be resting half on my thigh. I could feel his eyes watching me, and stupidly, I turned my head to glance at him. I was correct, in that his eyes were trained on me, and he did not look away when I caught him. Neither he nor I moved an inch from where we were or broke the stare.
My breaths were coming in low and shallow, only making my heart race more. His face slowly began to inch towards mine, but I did not move away. He was only about a half a foot away from my lips when his eyes shifted from looking into my eyes and fluttering to my lips.
Holy shit.
Is he going to kiss me? Is this really going to happen right now? Did he feel the same way I did?
Holy shit.
Just as he began to lean in further, the door was flung open, hitting the wall in the process. Miles leaped backwards and ended up falling to the floor.
It was none other than Danny who barged in.
"Hey..." he trailed off, observing my position on the bed with a blush slowly creeping up my neck, and Miles sitting on the ground, rubbing his hip from falling on it.
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked cheekily.
"No, I was just helping Gloria with her college application, and then she got mad and pushed me off the bed when I made a stupid comment."
I don't know if it was worse that Danny barged in at the wrong moment when Miles was about to do something, or the fact that Miles was lying about what was going on. There was definite red in my cheeks and probably all over my face. It was internally embarrassing especially that he was hiding it. Could I blame him though?
Danny looked over at me as if to confirm the story.
"He's an idiot," I rasped out, not able to fully catch my breath.
"Anyway," he continued but not without giving us one last look of suspicion. "We're going to dinner in about twenty minutes, so will you guys be joining us?"
"Yep, we'll meet you by the elevator in twenty," Miles agreed.
Danny gave us the thumbs up before walking back out the door and closing the door.
"Gloria," Miles said after several seconds of quiet.
"What?"
"What's the other thing that you see as one of your secrets?"
My blood boiled at him. How could he think that I was actually going to tell him anything and just disregard what had happened two minutes ago?
"I don't want to talk about it, right now," I snapped before setting all the application stuff back in the drawer and plucking the picture out of Miles's fingers.
I got up from the bed and went to the door.
"I'm going to Jackson and Harrison's room," I said and left before I waited for a reply.
...
Crack!
The ball slammed off the bat and went dangerously bouncing to shortstop. It was a routine ground ball, which needed to be played with soft hands.
We were out in the field at the moment. Well, the team was. I was sitting on the bench like usual.
I couldn't help but hold my breath as Walker came in on it. He was being too timid with the ball though.
At the very moment, there was a runner on third with one out and we were only up by one run. This was not a play to mess up on. Walker simply had to field the ball cleanly, look back the runner, then throw the ball to first base to get the second out.
The ball skidded through the grass and raced towards Walker's waiting glove. At the last second, he pulled up to early and the ball went straight under his glove and in to the outfield grass.
It was several seconds of silence from Coach before all hell broke loose.
"Goddammit, get the ball!" he screamed at the field while Tyler, who was in left field, grabbed the ball as it rolled farther in to the outfield. The runner had been smart and raced home, and now, the score was tied. The hitter had made it only to first base, but his usual routine ground ball scored the run.
"Time, Blue!" Rust yelled from the dugout.
The umpire held up his hands to call time while Coach went stalking out of the dugout and towards the pitcher's mound. He called everyone in to a huddle and could be heard yelling his head off at them. After 30 seconds of a full raging session, Coach ripped off his hat and came stomping back to the dugout.
"Gloria, go play short. If you make any mistakes or stupid decisions, I'm taking you out. Got it?" he seethed when he was close enough to make eye contact with me.
"Yes, Coach," I replied before grabbing my glove and jogging out to short. Walker was coming back in to the dugout as I began my run to the field.
"Hey, pick me up, kid," Walker called to me as I hit the grass of the infield.
I looked over my shoulder to give him a thumbs up before continuing on.
The stands seem to have grown quieter as I took my position. I had hit once in the game, but no one thought seriously about me playing yet. The runner at first grunted and stared at me confused. I did my best to ignore the obvious criticism from the stands and other bench of players.
It was really happening. I was playing in the game finally at shortstop. After the first four games had passed with my butt always on the bench I had given up hope. As much as I liked Walker and wanted him to do well, I wanted to play even more.
The umpire behind home plate finally pointed his finger at Logan to begin the game again. I glance towards the kid that was taking a large lead at first. He looked like he was going to go on the first pitch, so I took a few small steps towards second to be ready for the throw. Eli, who was catching this game, noticed me moving from behind his mask. He turned his body every so slightly to the side to ready himself for the throw.
At the exact moment Logan picked up his leg and pulled his glove to his chest, the guy began barreling towards me. I sprinted the short distance to second base and prepared for the throw down that would be coming from Eli.
As soon as the ball snapped in to Eli's awaiting glove, he snatched it out and launched it to second. This play wasn't going to be close. We had this guy out by a long shot. The ball hit my glove, and I pulled it down to sit in front of the base to not allow him to touch second. A split second later, the runner came sliding in like any usual steal. Before I could even think about anything else, the helmet of the runner went crashing forward towards my bare forehead.
My mind didn't react to the oncoming head-butt, but instead it flickered around the idea of how bad this guy's form for sliding was. He basically was going half on his knees, and his head was leading the slide. Without another criticism being able to process, the runner hit me square in the temple. I went flying backwards on to my butt with my glove still clutching the ball into its pocket.
My hand flew up to clutch on to my now throbbing forehead.
"What the actual fuck?" I muttered, closing my eyes.
"Out," the umpire cried after seeing the ball was still firmly tucked into my glove.
My eyes snapped open and glared down at the idiot who was brushing himself off.
"What the hell is your problem?" I snapped.
His eyes flickered over to me and gave me a once over.
"Can't handle it? Then go learn how to play some real baseball," he griped back, walking towards his dugout.
"Why don't you learn how to slide correctly first?" I growled, taking my hand off my temple. "You're suppose to lead with your feet, not your head."
He turned his head to give me one last glare before trotting back into his dugout.
I flicked the ball back to Logan at the pitcher's mound.
"Glor?"
I ignored the all-so-familiar voice.
"Gloria?" It came again, closer this time. Before I could move away, Miles's hand came to rest on my shoulder, gently turning me around.
His touch made me go crazy. Butterflies slammed into my stomach. I was still pissed off from yesterday, however, with the stunt he pulled when Danny walked in. I know it was stupid to even think that he would say anything about what almost happened. The possible relationship, that I could very well be making up in my mind, would probably be considered inappropriate by Coach. Two teammates dating was not the best option. I could easily get kicked off the team and lose the rest of this experience.
Never the less, the whole thing pissed me off. Did I even want him to make a move?"
"What?" I snapped.
"Are you okay?"
That was a loaded question for me, but I knew what he was asking about.
"I'm fantastic," I deadpanned.
We were at the moment facing each other. I did my best to keep an impassive face. His eyes were searching mine, trying to find some kind of break.
"You sure? You just got tackled." His voice was gentle and genuinely concerned with my well-being. This bothered me, though.
My ungloved hand clenched into a fist at my side. He can't just decide he cares now. I sounded crazy to myself at the moment. There was nothing going on between us. I liked him, but he didn't reciprocate the feelings. I had my head wrapped up in myself and forgot about the entire other side of the situation.
"I'm fine. I don't know why you're so fucking worried. I can take care of myself."
"When you're on a team, you're suppose to look out for each other. You need to get that through your thick head. Not everyone is against you. The people on this field are on your team."
I ignored his comment and stomped back over to short.
I knew he was right, but I was far from giving him the satisfaction he wanted to hear. At times though when I've been here, it seems everyone is against me and waiting for me to fail. That was far from the truth, but a wall has been built up around me for so many years that it would take an army to knock it down.