“I’m not avoiding you, and I don’t want to be your friend.” Ouch.
“I see we’re going back to the bully jerk thing again.” I push back from my chair to leave. He blocks my path. We’re in the back corner all alone.
“I tried, GG, to stay away from you after you yelled at me, but I can’t. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. When I’m around you I end up fucking up in some way, and my words get twisted.” He runs his hand through his hair, getting flustered. “This shit is new to me.” He motions between us. “I don’t want to kiss the hell out of my friends. That’s why I say we’re not friends. Because from the moment I saw you, that’s all I’ve wanted to do.”
“Oh.” I gasp, sucking in a breath. My body starts to hum the same way it did when he was kissing me.
“Come to the game with me. I get special treatment, so we’ll have good seats and all the food we can eat. You haven't lived until you’ve had a hotdog at the ballpark.” I debate if this is a bad idea. “Please. Let me show you I’m not a dick. Well, that I’m not going to be a dick to you.”
“Okay,” I agree.
He smiles. “Meet me on the front steps when school is over.” He drops a quick kiss on my lips before he turns to go. He suddenly stops, coming back. “Wasn't enough.”
His hands tangle in my hair as he kisses me again. I moan into his mouth, pressing myself into him. He grips my hair tighter, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss. His tongue slides further into my mouth. When he releases me, I’m a bit dazed.
“After school. Be there or I’ll track you down.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond before he’s taking off. I stand there thinking I’m in way over my head.
Chapter Fifteen
Colt
“Looking good, Colt.” Cal, the ticket taker, holds out his fist. I give him a dap.
“You, too, Cal.”
“Who you got with you today?” He peers around my shoulder at GG, who has been sort of hiding behind me since we climbed out of my car.
I tug her forward. “Cal, this is GG. GG, this is Cal, most knowledgeable baseball historian there is. If there’s a stat that exists in baseball, Cal knows it.”
“Not every stat, boy.” Cal grins and winks. He loves the compliment. “This your first day at the ballpark, girl?”
“Um, how did you know?” GG fidgets with the strap of her clear purse.
“You’ve got that big-eyed, never been here before gloss in your eyes. Treat her good, my boy. We want her to come back, right?”
“Right.”
I start down the concourse when Cal grabs my arm. He barks in my ear. “First girl I’ve seen you bring here. Big deal, right?”
I pat his hand. “Big deal.”
“Don’t let her distract you,” he warns.
“I won’t.”
He gives me a pat and a shove. GG pretends like she hasn’t heard every word Cal’s overloud voice shouted into the crowd. I take her by the elbow and direct her to the concession stand. “Hot dog or hamburger?”
“They serve hamburgers here?”
“They serve sushi here.” At her surprised look, I give her a little history. “It used to be regular stadium food like hotdogs, chips, popcorn, beer, but all the stadiums have been upgraded, and you can get fancy stuff, too, like sushi and shit like that. I’m a hotdog person and I only have money for the basics.” There’s no point in me trying to pretend to be deep in the pocket. GG will learn right away that I’m not that kind of guy.
“I’ve never had sushi either. I must be a basics person.” She says this like she doesn’t know.
“Sushi sounds wet and slimy. I don’t think I’d like it. Although Masahiro Tanaka and Gerrit Cole would go on sushi dates. Tanaka had a great slider. Sushi’s good for protein. Low fat, I think. Maybe if you’re rich you like it.” GG’s eyes are glazing over. She does not care about my ruminations. God, I’m bad at this. I shove my hands into my pockets. “Two hot dogs then.”
“Yes. That sounds perfect.”
She isn’t running for the exit...yet. I order our food and lead her down to two seats just a couple rows up from third base. “The bullpen, where the pitchers warm up, used to be over there.” I point to a row of seats. “But they’ve moved it inside so they can sell more tickets.”
“That’s sad.”
“Right? The older stadiums still have them, but they’re being eliminated.” I press my lips together. The game is changing a lot. “They’re even talking about robot umpires who call strikes and balls based on a computer reading.” I hand GG her hot dog. She only got ketchup on hers while mine is loaded with mustard, relish, onion—the whole works.