Chapter 2: Rule #9

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March 2019

The rhythmic ping sounds of hitting traveled through the air. Hands covered in black gloves, a boy squeezed the smooth baseball bat firmly, weighing it on his hands with consideration. Readied himself, he hoisted the bat over his shoulders. His eagle eyes were put to work, and as the ball bolted to his side, he swung!

With absolute precision, the ball floated in a fast line, followed with a couple of claps and cheers. With a lopsided grin, the boy slammed the maple wood bat on the base, to have it bounced back to his hand in a spin, displaying a mix of skill and flair. And as he proudly caught back the bat—

"Yeah! That's my bestfriend! Go Tyty!"

Behind the net, you jumped up and down on the tribune, hands clapping in delight. Shouting from the top of your lungs, you cheered for the boy that's been grinning back at you. Shoulders rolled under his red and white jersey, he adjusted his red NY cap, exchanging a glance with grinning you. Moving to the middle of the base, he stood with poise, ready to take on the next play. Planting his foot on the ground, he gripped the ball tightly on his palm, ready to swing whenever he liked. Creasing his forehead in concentration, he observed his opponent—and after he made sure he's ready, he swung!

Strike!

Throwing his gloves and cap to the ground, he shouted in unbridled delight, "Yeah! Let's fucking go!"

"Language, Cavill!"

"Sorry, coach—Winny! Did you see—"

However, his triumphant boasting came to an abrupt halt as he tried to process a scene unfolding before him. Instead of being met by your admiration, he found you.. with a boy, receiving a pink box with a neatly placed black ribbon at the top. He surveyed in disinterest, but not until he saw your face light up—disinterest quickly turned into interest, his face heating up. Ignoring the ongoing practice, he sprinted towards the tribune and shouted, "Hey! Em remember rule number—!"

Just when you redirected your attention back to him, a ball struck him square in the eye. The sound of your voice shouting in the distance echoed through the field as Tyler tumbled down to the ground. Cursing and groaning in pain, he put a hand over his eye—with another supporting his arse that's been flat on the ground. His eye began to sport a shade of blue, however in between his minced eyes, he noticed a faint silhouette.

A boy, notably tall for his age, strolled along the path to him. He got closer.. and closer.. until the silhouette became clearer. 'Damn, bet his eyes still bluer than mine even right now,' Tyler thought. Just when he's about to muster the strength to rise on his own, the boy extended a hand. Tyler observed in suspicion, but then he shrugged off whatever ill prejudice he had—and took the hand hesitantly—to be taken with great strength. Regaining his composure, Tyler found himself face to face with the boy, who smiled and said,

"So—"

"So—"

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