The Life Of Aaron Prescott

[5] Do Books Count As An Apology?

The Life Of Aaron Prescott
Journal Entry Five; March 1st

Never would I assume myself to play baseball. I have watched the sport many times with my uncle on certain visits and holidays and me and dad used to play catch while mom would make us cookies. But I've never had any thoughts on playing.

That's until Jordan brought me to one of his T-ball practices. Now, I don't know how I never brought myself to pick up a bat.

Ryan tried as well, but he quickly disliked catching a baseball quickly and stayed mostly to the sidelines with a guy named Mason. I myself couldn't stop running, catching and bating. It felt great, everything about playing felt great.

I can't wait to tell my dad.

A A R O N

Knowing you untimely fucked up while trying to pitch was one of the hardest things ever.

Coach was up my ass about it, as well as all my other teammates. It was frustrating, but I almost felt like this was karma for what I had said to Lindsey. She never talked to me really today when we had bio. She only said that she has finished the notes and was starting to write out new ones.

When she told me about her father yesterday, I couldn't help but empathize quietly with myself. And how her mother had to do two parental roles while creating a business. No wonder why Lindsey goes around in her mother's clothes proud, I would do the same.

I have been trying to think of ways to apologize to her, even if I didn't deserve for her to listen to me. She would be totally in the right to shut her door in my face and scream at me to leave. I never should have judged Lindsey or anyone just because of wealth. My head is definitely out of my ass now.

"Prescott, hit my glove for fucks sake." Coach shouts again, punching the middle of his old catcher's glove before kneeling down again.

Taking a deep breathe, I begin my windup. Maybe I could buy her flowers? Or does Lindsey like chocolate? Wait, what if she's lactose intolerant?

My pitch hits the dirt. Coach catches my awful attempt at a pitch swiftly before standing up. He swipes sweet off his forehead and I see him visibly sigh. I know my head is not in the game right now, and coach knows it too.

He walks over to the mount, taking his glove off and holding it in his left hand. "Aaron," he says. "Is there something bothering you?"

I shake my head no. Coach didn't need to know about this, he would probably think it's stupid anyways. "No, everything's fine coach. I'm just in my head."

Coach shakes his head with a sly smile, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Son, you've been playing ball with me for four years. I know the deference between you being in your head and you thinking about something. So, what did you do and what is their name?"

I let out a sigh of defeat. Coach is similar to me in a lot of ways, he always knows when someone is wither lying or is wrong with them. It's almost scary how alike we can be personality wise.

"Her names Lindsey Hayes." I kick some dirt with my cleat. "And, I said a lot of shit that I shouldn't have to her."

I hear Coach take a deep breathe, patting me on the back before dropping his hand. "Apologize, but make sure it's actually worth the time hearing."

I raise my head, "how do I do that?"

Coach smiles. "Buy her something, but not something cliché like chocolates and teddy bears. No, buy her something that she likes."

Coach turns back after that walking back to the batters box. I smirk as I bring my glove back up to my face. I'll buy Lindsey a book, she mentioned how she like to read while she ranted. I want my apology to be a surprise, but I also don't want to get it wrong. So now all I need to get Rose's number and figure out Lindsey's genre.