The Mute Reporter

14- Six Years Earlier

Samuel Winters

Today was the first game of the season for Jensen's team, and they were doing pretty good.

Jensen was the only one on the team so far who managed to hit and get on first base. It was only the second inning, and I wasn't that worried.

I was in the stands this time, watching him. It's a bit of a different view than the dugout, but I was practically sitting right on top of it.

Jensen makes it to second base before they get three strikes and have to switch out with the other team.

Jensen runs in, and he takes off his helmet.

He sees me staring at him, and sends me a wink, ducking into the dugout before I can respond.

I wrote down in my journal.

Jensen is an arrogant asshole for flirting with his reporter

I smirk. If Jensen wants to play more than one game tonight, then he can bring it on.

———

It was the last stretch of the game, it was tied 2-2.

Jensen was up at bat, and there were two strikes on their plate.

The ball is pitched, and Jensen swings. It's a high ball, but he still hits it, and it goes soaring into the sky.

Everyone around me jumps out of their seats in excitement. I'm too focused on what Jensen is doing to care.

Jensen hits first. People are cheering.

The ball goes over the back fence. Everyone is now jumping.

Jensen exclaims in victory when he just hit second base.

Everyone is now screaming "run home!" And so he does exactly that.

Jensen hits the home plate after going past third base, and the rest of his team runs out onto the field, surrounding him and cheering even louder than the audience.

I wrote down another thing in my book.

However, he is a reliable player. His skills make up for his attitude on the field.

After I jot that down, I wait patiently as the stadium clears, mainly composed of overly happy Denver baseball fans.

After Jensen's team settles down on the dirt, they slowly trickle into the dugout and into the showers right under.

He eventually comes over, and still looks a little surprised to see me still sitting there.

I didn't have to stay after the game, but I chose to. I wanted to at least congratulate him.

He beckons me over, and I grab my things and stand up, walking to the wall separating me in the stands and him on the dirt.

"What are you still doing here?" He grins widely at me, and I just shrug.

'I'd figured I'd congratulate you.'

He gives me a weird look.

"I'm not that advanced in ASL yet, Sam."

Something about the way he said my name was different compared to every other time. Like there were butterflies inside of me, fluttering around.

Or maybe I was just embarrassed I thought he could fully understand me, when clearly his interpreter/teacher could only do so much in a limited time.

So I write it down on a blank sheet of paper this time, grateful that looking down at the paper hid the blush rising to my cheeks.

"Wait for me in the team room and then you can congratulate me properly."