𝑨 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆 - Chapter Nine

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You finally made it to the baseball field where the game will be held. Cheers and laughter rang throughout the air as people began sitting down and getting ready for the game. The smell of hotdogs wafted throughout the air, as well as the smell of popcorn.

You quickly ran over to the bike rack, securing your bike into place. You breathed rapidly as you quickly ran to the stands. Your side hurt like hell, but you ignored the pain and continued to look for a perfect spot to sit and watch the game.

You ran up the stairs of the stands, the medal shrilling with every step you take, causing you to earn some annoyed stares. You found a open spot in the middle of the fourth floor of the stands. Breathing heavily, you sat down, feeling your muscles immediately relax.

Suddenly, a high pitch whistle can be heard from all the way across the field, causing the chatter to cease down. You leaned forward, looking in excitement once spotting Bruce making his way onto the field with his team.

Bruce scanned the stands, looking nervous and anxious. But once his eyes landed onto you, his face immediately brightened as he gave you a big toothy smile and an excited wave. You smiled back, giving him a wave.

With one last look, Bruce jogs over to his teammates and coach. You smiled, watching him go. You heard a person beside you clear their throat, catching your attention. You looked over to see an elderly woman sitting next to you. The woman was asian and wore a permanent-like kind face, her kind, warm dark brown eyes rested upon you. Wrinkles upon wrinkles scatter across the woman's face, yet, she kept her beautiful and delicate look.

"Your boyfriend seems like a nice man." She spoke, turning her gaze towards the field.

"H-he's not my boyfriend. He's just a friend." You spoke, looking down. The elderly woman wearily smiled.

"That's what I said at first about my lover." The woman chuckled, slightly shaking her head, causing the curls on her head to bounce.

"But really, I'm here to support my friend. Ya know, what friends do for other friends. So..." You spoke, slightly shrugging your shoulders. The elderly woman just smiled, not saying anything further.

You turned your attention to the game to see Bruce's team move outfield. You leaned forward in anticipation. "Come on Bruce..."

The first batter on the other team, stood at the home plate, holding his baseball bat confidently. Bruce, who is pitcher, tossed the ball in his gloved hand, sending the batter a determined look.

The coach blew his whistle, signaling that it was time for the game to begin. Bruce got into his stance, as the batter prepared himself. Bruce threw the ball, the batter missing. You and many others cheer.

"Yeah! Bruce! Wooohooo!" You yelled out, cupping your hands around your mouth. Bruce smirked.

Bruce threw again.

Second strike.

At this point you were standing up, cheering. Bruce's smirk widens at the sound of your cheers. Bruce got ready to throw again. The batter slightly gulped, his hands beginning to sweat. Bruce threw the baseball again, and this time, harder.