𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

Katherine jumps as a pair of shorts slap against her leg. 

"Wake up," Russell says. She glowers at him with the burn of a thousand suns. 

"What?" She snaps.

"You're comin' to work with me."

"Like hell." She pulls the blanket up her shoulder further. Blanket? Katherine opens one eye and looks down at her body.

Someone put her in Russell's bed and tucked her in. She groans, pushing the comforter off of her.

"What am I, five?"

"You were shivering," Russell says, sitting on the edge of the bed to put his running shoes on. "Go on, brush your teeth." 

She sits up on her elbows and stares at him. Frowns. Glowers. He wears a faded orange ballcap twisted backwards, a big white longhorn embroidered on it. He wears that one the most, so Katherine assumed it was his favorite. She isn't quite sure what's up with the Longhorn anyway. She didn't think Texas fans existed outside of Texas. 

Gray t-shirt, black shorts, black running shoes. 

"Teeth." Russell pats her ankles underneath the comforter.

Katherine rubs her forehead with the heel of her palm. "You're taking care of horses in that?"

Russell looks down at his attire with a frown. "No, you doorknob, we're going to baseball practice."

"Baseball practice," Katherine hoarsely echoes. "You said you were a dayworker on a ranch."

"Yeah, I am. I am also a summer ball coach." Russell raises his eyebrows at her. "Any more statements or questions?" She just smiles dumbly at him. "Great. Go brush your teeth. And take a shower. You probably smell like whiskey."

"I do not."

She doesn't. She smells like vanilla, like oranges, as she breezes past him.

"Who has baseball practice on a Saturday anyway?"

The Chicken Nuggets, that's who. A U7 baseball team who were clearly given the rights to name their summer team whatever the hell they wanted.

Katherine is way too hungover for this. She sits in the dugout with a big jug of water, lips locked on the straw, and she sips, listening to Russell and his friend/assistant coach Jackson preach to the little kids knelt in a circle before them. They lost both of their games last week, which is fine because winning isn't the goal, it's to have fun. 

Bull shit.

There are two little girls in that crowd of 12. One of them is blonde, free of even a grass stain, and her poor pale skin is flushed with the limited amount of sunlight they've been in for the past fifteen minutes. The other little girl is tanned, already dirty, but her light brown hair is done up neatly in two braids. 

"That her?" Jackson asks. 

"Who?" Russell frowns, watching the kids scatter to warm up. He absently kicks his bat between his feet.

"That girl who smashed Trina's nose last month."

"Oh." Russell glances over his shoulder to Katherine. Her eyebrows are furrowed over her sunglasses, and her mouth hasn't left that waterbottle since she sat down in the dugout. Good. "Yeah, that's her." Russell pauses. "You seen her lately?"

"Trina? Yeah, last week. She went with everyone to the mines." Russell grunts in acknowledgment, pressing the end of the bat into the dirt. "Are you two...dating or something?"