Pitched

“It wasn’t a date.”

“You sure about that?” The look on her face tells me she’s not buying it.

“Doesn't someone have to ask you out for it to be considered a date? He pretty much grabbed my hand and led me to his car.” He has a major habit of doing that. It’s bossy and annoying, but I don’t try to stop him. I let him lead me around. I know I would hate it if it were anyone else but him doing it.

“Not really, I suppose. I did hear some of the baseball guys talking about how he told them all to stay the hell away from you.” Well, that answers the question as to why so many people pretend they don’t see me. “Kind of hot that he’s that worried about someone else trying to get their hands on you that he would give a blanket warning to the male population here.”

My mouth falls open. I was trying to piece together why he would tell them to stay away from me. Him being jealous over me was never on my list at all. I’m suddenly not so annoyed about everyone giving me a wide berth. It's sweet in a messed-up kind of way. Not that I would ever admit that out loud.

“If he’s so into me, why does it feel like he’s always trying to stay away from me?”

Tricia shrugs. “I don’t know. Boys are fucking strange. They say we’re the difficult ones. Bunch of bullshit.”

I snort a laugh, agreeing with her. I have no idea how to handle this Colt thing. It’s new to me.

My phone vibrates on the table. I pick it up thinking it’s going to be Grams, but it’s a text.

Colt: Where are you? I can’t find you anywhere.

Tricia leans over and reads my text.

“You guys have plans or something?”

“No, but I didn’t know we had plans yesterday either.”

“I really like you, GG, and I know I was a major bitch before so me warning you about Colt might seem messed up, but I’m going to do it anyway. You’re too sweet and tender-hearted for me not to. I saw you trying to help the janitor clean this afternoon.”

“What? He works so hard. I don’t think he ever takes a break.” Plus I enjoyed talking to him. He reminds me a bit of my grandpa.

She lets out a laugh but keeps going. “I want you to be prepared when it comes to Colt. Baseball is his life. It will always come first.”

“I would never ask someone to put me over something else.”

“I know you wouldn’t, but when you start to fall for someone, you want them to always pick you.” She’s right.

“Shit, there you are.” We both turn to see some boy standing there. He has his phone in his hand clicking away.

“What are you doing, Seth? This is the library. You realize that, right?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty nice in here actually.” He glances around like he’s never been in here before.

“What do you want? We’re talking here.”

“Oh. Nothing.” He puts his phone in his pocket and stands there as if he’s waiting for something.

“Will you go away or something?” Tricia snaps at him.

“Yeah, in a second. I’m not getting in trouble. This is getting me brownie points.” I don’t really understand anything he’s saying. “Oh. Never mind. I’m out.” He goes to leave finally, and I see Colt enter the library. The two of them bump the sides of their fists together.

“You didn’t text me back.” He leans down, putting his hands flat on the table. It’s then I notice how freaking big they are.

“Hello to you too, Colt.” Tricia pushes back from her chair. “Remember what I said,” she says before she takes off, leaving me alone with Colt.

“What is it that she wants you to remember?” Colt asks.

“You only texted me a couple of seconds ago.”

“No I didn't.” He grabs my phone, lifting my hand and pressing my thumb to the pad. “See?” He turns the phone around and scrolls up so I can see the other texts he sent before that. Oops.

“Oh. Sorry. Phones are a bit new to me,” I admit. I swear whenever he’s around I can’t help but get a little flustered. No matter how many times I see him, I’m always struck by how handsome he is.

“You’ve been very sheltered,” he says. He’s right in a sense. But in other ways I’ve seen far too much. “I got us tickets to a minor league game. We’re going after school today.”

“We are? Why?” Here he goes again not even bothering to ask me if I want to go.

“You’ve never been to a game. You have to see one.”

I shake my head. “That’s not what I mean. One second it's like you want to be my friend and the next you’re avoiding me.”