Long Stride

This was it. Time to shine. Every softball players dream play. Bases loaded with full count. I came to the plate.

"COUNT FULL." the ump called out.

What the- when did that happen? ... Thoughts ran through my head. If only the crowd shut up. Come on get it together...

I looked at the pitcher ready to swing. Starting her windup, she pushed off and-

"NANAMI!!!" I was jolted awake by- what was it? Who knows. I looked at the clock next to my bed. 6:30. Shit. I overslept. Eh I could do without a shower. I went back to sleep for what seemed like 3 seconds before a creepy figure emerged from the side of my bed.

"Hey there little girl." a creepy voice said. I screamed and hit the rapist with my plastic-yet-damageable bat.

I quickly got out of bed and into the shower. I did my best to hurry, but I realized I forgot to take off my conditioner. God, I'm an idiot.

See the thing is that today I'm going to see Nishuira high. I'm only a 3rd year in middle school, and my parents are MAKING me get a tour of the school. Two-syllables. BOR-ING.

But there's two words making it worth while. Megumi Naharro.

OH.

MY.

GOD.

SHE'S JUST. AMA-ZING. She's only a first year at Nishuira and she's already being scouted to colleges and she plays for the baseball team! AND HAVE YOU SMELLED HER HAIR- I mean. Her batting average!? Her pitching is gloriously perfected and SHES THE BEST OF ALL THE SOFTBALL CLUB TEAMS. I GO TO ALL HER GAMES DURING MY GAME BREAKS. I EVEN GOT HER WATER BOTTLE AFTER A GAME ONCE. Not to be a creep or anything. I wonder where I got that from.

I walked out of the bathroom drying my hair when I heard:

"HONEY, SHE HIT ME AGAIN!" my dad complained.

"WELL THANK GOD IT WASN'T THE PEPPER SPRAY THIS TIME." my mom explained. "And what do you think you're doing?" She caught me half step going to the kitchen.

"Uh." I half-smiled. "Getting food?"

"What? With your hair like that? No, get you tiny ass back in that bathroom. We have 30 minutes till we have to be there! How many times do I have to-"

"Yeah mom. I know. I've known for the past week." I grumbled. Jeesh. She schedules everything a month beforehand.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" She grabbed the small bat I used on my dad as I bolted for the bathroom. You know, there's a reason why I'm the fastest runner on the team.

I locked the door and looked in the mirror. I looked like a real softball player alright. My cut sleeve showing my farmers tan, and my legs being scarred up. Aside from that, my hair was fairly light. Brown with some blonde highlights. To add more to my American-looking features, though I'm pure as Japanese can get, are my green eyes.

Sigh. This is why I don't fit in. Anyways, I braided my unmanageable bangs and combined it with my waist-length hair into a neat pony-tail. Add a finishing touch with a bow and Bwala!

SOFTBALL PLAYER COMPLETE.

I secretly opened the door to the room, and, there was nothing in sight. GOOD. I ran and locked the door and went to my drawers. I needed to be comfortable. That's my motto. "BE COMFORTABLE OR OR...yeah...just be comfortable."

I pulled out a breast cancer softball shirt and pulled it over my head.bI matched the dark gray shirt with some black shorts with pink lining and pulled on my running shoes. What can I say? I support breast cancer plus, I was in the mood for pink. May I say I do look-