Can't Stand You

Picking Fights, You Must Not

Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Hello!

It's a new year!!!! Omg! I know the last time I updated was last year... hehe (bad new years puns). I did finally finish this one though.

Sorry for the not super baseball fans. There is some baseball stuff in here. It's a bit of a filler, but it's needed to keep setting up the end of the book. I've realized that we're getting down to the last couple chapters. I think there's only going to be about three or four more *cue the gasping*

Anyway, please please please VOTE COMMENT AND FAN!!!!

Last chapter didn't get a lot of love and that made me sad :(

Let's make this a great one!

Love,
Elle
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"Miles, batting fifth. Playing first. Dylan, batting sixth. Playing second. Jason, batting seventh. Playing right field," Jackson read off the line up card. He took a slight pause after Jason's name, glancing up at me before continuing. "Walker, batting eighth. Playing shortstop, and Logan, you're batting ninth. Pitching."

I knew it. I knew that Coach was going to pull me after the last practice when I looked like I had never been on a baseball field in my life. I couldn't blame him for making the decision. Walker looked much better prepared and smoother. However, practice was never the problem for him. Game time, under pressure, is what did him in. Everyone knew that and today's game would be the test to see if he has moved passed it yet.

"I'm sorry Glors. I don't want to take your position" Walker said, patting my shoulder.

I did my best to put on a smile, but it probably looked more on the lines of a grimace.

"Please don't feel like you need to apologize, Walker. It's not my position, and you out performed me during practice this week. You deserve it. Anyways, our friendship is more important than a position." Guilt clenched at my chest, seeing one of my own teammates feeling like they don't have the right to a position because of me.

"It's definitely more important than a position," Walker agreed. He patted my shoulder again comfortingly.

Coach walked back to the dugout from home plate, where the coaches from each team and the umpire met for a pre-game conference. They exchanged lineups and went over the rules as always.

"We're home. Take the field," Rust called to our huddle by the on-deck circle.

"Hey, go out there and keep playing our ball. We got this. Mustangs on three," Jackson encouraged the circle.

Everyone put a closed hand in the middle of the circle.

"One, two, three."

"Mustangs," we all said in unsion.
With the final word, we all broke off and jogged out to our positions. Being on the bench, I followed Harrison and the rest of the bench players to the outfield to throw.

Harrison and I tossed a ball back and forth until balls in was called by Eli, behind the plate.

I trotted alongside the others sitting the bench. It had been awhile since I had been doing this myself.

Harrison and I took a place on the half fence of the dugout to watch the first inning.

Out of the corner of my eye, Harrison twitched uncomfortably. His lips rolled in and out of his mouth. There were words ready to spill out of his mouth, but being the awkward kid he is, they stayed locked in his throat.

I knew he deserved something from me. However, what to tell him was evading me.

"Please tell me," was blurted out next me.