The Pitcher's Act

12

OLIVIA

Your roommate gave me your number. :)

Great.

Don't act so excited. BTW Crawford won't leave. He's become a couch potato.

He probably likes how clean your place is. He probably feels like he's on vacation.
You want me to get him?

No. It's fine. Sadie's loving the attention.

I set my phone down, not even realizing the smile on my face as I text Colby Jones. The man I kissed last night. The man I hated two weeks ago.

Fuck. I don't need to smile at his texts. This is not good. At all. It was just a drunken kiss. I don't like him. He just gave me attention.

"Livvy, what are you smiling at over there?" Sadie asks as she and Crawford mix margaritas at the island table.

Fuck. "Funny video," I say, turning my attention to the television. Crawford even clawed his way into what we were watching. We wanted to watch Gossip Girl, but he vetoed it, and now we are watching back-to-back NFL games because he's the guest.

It could be worse. It could be baseball. I find it to be boring, especially when they're good teams. It's just a constant back and forth of nothing happening. At least with a sucky team, you can watch runs come in from the other.

Jonesy plays baseball. He's a damn good player. He was in the top running for pitcher of the year last season. Maybe this year, he will get it. I watched a few games last season. My roommates forced me to watch, and he threw a no-hitter both times.

I'm a football girl, which is why I cheer. My older brother played, so I learned from him, and while girls couldn't play football, I chose the next best thing: cheer.

This past week was so fucking boring. I had to sit and watch my teammates cheer without me. All I watched was my spot being empty the whole time. It felt like something was missing.

"Orders up, Livvy," Sadie yells from the kitchen.

I set my computer down while working on an essay for my history class and walked to the kitchen. When I walked in, Michael Crawford wore an apron as he poured a drink into Sadie's glass. They look adorable together. I hope she likes him and isn't using him.

Michael grabs a glass, pours the frozen liquid into it, and then hands it to me. They grin as they watch me go to my first sip, and I almost throw up. "Jesus, is there any margarita mix in this?"

Sadie looks to Crawford, "I thought you were putting it in there?"

He grins wider, "I did."

"What a fucking drop? Could you at least warn me before I suck down a huge gulp!" He laughs, pulling the mix out on the table. I unscrew the cap, pour the mixture straight in, and stir it with my straw. I taste it, and it already tastes ten times better.

Sadie rolls her eyes, doing the same for hers, while Crawford takes his straight and sits back down in front of the couch. We follow him, and I sit on the love chair while they share the couch.

Michael quickly drinks his, already getting up for a second drink. "I thought we were causally drinking while we watched this. Not getting hammered."