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CHAPTER FOURTEEN: TALK
ೃ⁀➷ANTHONY VOLPE
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"So, she still won't talk to me," Anthony told the cameras. It was true. He'd seen her a couple times since the incident at the club, and every time, she avoided him like the plague. She didn't look at him, she didn't talk to him, she didn't even acknowledge his presence. He tried to apologize, but every time he tried she would make up some excuse and walk away. He didn't know if she told anybody about what happened, but judging by the way Lila hadn't tried to cut his dick off yet, he assumed she kept it to herself.
Anthony didn't know how to feel. He didn't regret what had happened, or at least he was pretty sure he didn't. It had been amazing, every second of it, and he really wouldn't mind doing it again. But at the same time, he was confused, and frustrated, and upset.
"I have no idea what to do," he continued, letting his head drop back against the couch. "She won't talk to me, and she's avoiding me like I'm the fucking plague. She hates me."
He looked away and took a deep breath. When he turned back to the camera, he had a fake smile on his face but there waa a twinkle in his eye.
"Anyway, opening day's tomorrow!"
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OPENING DAY WAS finally upon them, and the Yankees were playing The San Francisco Giants. Anthony was excited, nervous, and a little bit nauseous, but he was ready.
The moment when he took the field was one he'd never forget. The fans cheered louder than anything he'd ever heard, the sun was shining, and the atmosphere was electric. There were cameras, reporters, and fans all over the stadium, and there were people as far as the eye could see.
