Josh tripped forward as he raced after me. He was fast, I'd give him that. Somehow he got in front of me and tried to block my path to the goal.
"I never said I was first string," he said, gasping for breath. "I kind of ride the bench, to be honest. Baseball's more my game."
"Ah. Well, that explains it. Cardio's not a priority when you're just standing on base all day, huh?" I stopped and put my foot atop the ball. Josh placed his hands on his hips and drew in a few deep breaths.
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"Why're you stopping? You intimidated?" he asked. Rather, gasped.
I laughed. "No. Just hoping I don't need the defibrillator."
"Come on. Let's go," he said, wagging his hands at me weakly. "I'm getting the ball back."
I raised my eyebrows. "Are you really? Go ahead."
I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked. Josh looked at me. He looked at the ball. He looked at me again.
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah. I dare you to try to take it from me," I told him.
Josh shrugged and turned away. "Whatever. If you're not even gonna make it hard--"
Suddenly he whipped around again and kicked out his leg for the ball. My ninjalike reflexes, however, had long since switched on. I simply rolled my foot back, sliding the ball around my legs, where it came to rest at my other side. Josh tried to pull up and switch directions. Instead he tripped himself and slid forward. My eyes widened. His leg swept right toward mine and with a sudden swoop, I was going down, too. So much for those reflexes.
Suddenly I was lying crooked over Josh's side, face to the ground. We both turned to extricate ourselves, but instead our legs got hopelessly, awkwardly entangled. My heart started to pound.
"You really do fall a lot, huh?" I said, trying to turn over.
Josh turned on his side so that he was facing me. His chest was
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a mere inch from mine. He had a leaf stuck in his curls and a streak of brown and green across his chin.
"Actually, I did that on purpose," he said.
Gravity reversed itself as he leaned in to kiss me. Gently. Softly. Reverently. Sweetly. This was a real kiss. It was exciting but also comforting, like sinking into a soft pillow. It was as if we just fit. He touched my face with his fingertips and I rested my cheek on his bicep as I kissed him back. There were no thoughts of guilt or remorse or comparison in my mind. It was just Josh and the cold breeze and the scents of cut grass and fallen leaves. This felt like our real first kiss.
"Ahem!"
Josh and I sprang apart. I tried to scramble up but slipped on my heel and fell right back down on my ass. Hard. Standing not twenty yards away were three not-so-happy-looking men. Detective Hauer. Chief Sheridan. Dean Marcus.
"Perhaps I should have had a stricter schedule for those students whom the school was so kind as to host this weekend," Dean Marcus said. He looked cold. Cold and tired and annoyed and accusatory. Like he blamed us for the fact that he was cold and tired and annoyed.
"Sorry, sir," Josh said, pushing himself to his feet. He offered me both his hands and yanked me up from the ground. "Heat-of- the-moment thing. Won't happen again."
"It certainly will not," the dean said, walking toward us. The other two followed. Detective Hauer looked at me as if he was trying
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not to laugh, and I quickly cleared my throat and looked away. If he thought there was some kind of kinship between us, he was wrong. Especially now that I'd seen him following my friend in the dark for God only knew what reason. Until that was explained, we'd be sharing no amused glances. "I think the two of you should separate yourselves for the rest of the weekend. I'll make sure that both Mrs. Lattimer and Mr. Cross are aware of it," Dean Marcus said.
"Yes, sir," Josh replied.
"Yes, sir," I echoed.
"Mr. Hollis, Chief Sheridan and Detective Hauer would like a word," the dean said.