ɢᴜɪᴅᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

21 | Undefeated

"Jones! Finish 'em out!" coach shouts into his megaphone. He's been using it a lot lately, which annoyed the fuck out of the coaches on the opposing teams.

I slide on my new pair of gloves, clapping my hands together to get a feel for them, before stepping out into the field. The cheering in the stands get louder as I snatch my favorite bat from its place on the fence. I risk a quick glance at the stands, my eyes automatically zoning in on my friends. Ryland's munching on mozzarella sticks (I'm more than convinced he doesn't care about seeing us play, and just wants food.) Maria's waving a blue #1 finger in the air, her hair in two braids to show off her spirit makeup. Then I look at Arzhel, who's shyly waving a smaller version of our team flag.

I shake my head as a smile threatens to break through. I twirl the bat in my hand as I make my way to the home plate. We're up against Westwood University. We destroyed them last season, and they came back with a vengeance. We're tied at the moment, and I'm the last batter. I guess I'm the make or break of this game, and you better believe I'm going to fucking make it. I face off with their captain, who's toying with the ball in his hands. A few jokes float to the top of my mind, and I press my lips together in a feeble attempt to not let them loose.

A whistle blows to signal the last play. I decide to use a stance that's new to me, and my team. I've only swung in this position a handful of times, and that was only during private practices. The way my body turns, and the position of my arms, allows me to hit the ball harder, making it fly a good distance.

Plus, Westwood's players are slow on the uptake, their pitches being predictable and slow. I tilt my head, patiently waiting for the pitch. Their captain glares at me before attempting to fast pitch the ball. Everyone's so agressive, I think as I swing the bat fast and hard. I don't even look at the ball as I drop my bat with a quickness. Dust kicks up as I dart off the home plate. Shouts from my team, and cheers from the stands, drone in and out of my ears as I focus on the sound of my feet pounding against the ground and the crunch of the dirt.

It feels like I'm floating as I fly past first and second base. I hear shouting from Westwood, but don't care to look. Third base and our home plate is always the farthest apart, making me push harder to reach it. I slide off of third base, my cleats digging into my feet. Westwood is busy freaking the fuck out, while I laugh. I keep my pace, and run straight into Kian's arms. He lifts me up as we meet at the home plate, the rest of our team emerging from the dugout. The final whistle blows, and our score changes—breaking the tie. My team surrounds me, chanting our team name. The stands follow suit, whistling and hollering their praise. Three more games, then it's the championships. We're in there.

Jared stands rigidly by the dugout, a scowl permanently on his face. He was still benched when he came back, and did his best to try and figure out why I get to play. His eye is still healing, and I won't lie and say the look didn't satisfy me. He deserved everything he got, and more. I'd do it again if prompted.

"Alright, boys, hit the showers! We're about to celebrate all damn night!" our captain shouts, patting me on the back before jogging away.

We follow after him, and I look towards to the stands to see Arzhel, Maria, and Ryland standing. They're clapping, and this time I let a wide smile shine through as Arzhel starts to wave the small flag more confidently. Ryland puts two fingers in his mouth, emitting the loudest whistle of them all. I catch up with Kian, throwing my hat somewhere as I open my locker. I usually wait until I get home to shower, but today's an exception. I yank my sports bag from the small space, and head into the shared showers. I'm glad Guild decided to make actual stalls, instead of open space. I've unfortunately gained the reflex to dodge small, white towels.

Hot water immediately crashes down onto my body, and as much as I love the feeling, I turn it until the water is almost icy cold. My body's been sweating way more with each play, and I feel hot as fuck. A cold shower is what I need right now, and maybe I'll have a hot one when I get home. I quickly scrub my body down, making sure to get every key part. I don't have time to wash my hair in locker room showers, so I tie it back in a small ponytail before stepping under the shower head. The cold water sends a small shock through my body, but I quickly adjust and appreciate the feeling it does to my bones.