Ruby (Rue) Mack is on the varsity softball team. She started pitching for all three years of her high school career, and she hasn't struck out at bat once throughout all of her seasons.
When a mysterious note appears at her locker, threatening to b...
"Threats alone are the weapons of the threatened man."
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I woke to sunlight trickling silently through my bedroom window. Though it was only May, the soft rays brought warmth to my body. I gave a small shiver, feeling the heat enter my body. My alarm clock resounded with the loud guitar strum ringtone I set to wake me up.
Why do we have to get up so early?
An annoyed groan escapes my lips. Somehow my legs find their way out of my bed and to my large vanity dresser.
I examine myself in the mirror. My hair is a fluffed up mess, sticking out at all directions. A full on groan escapes me as I drag my hands through it, trying to tame it even a little bit so I don't look like a hair dried dog.
My clothes for the day are like every other; a softball t-shirt of some sort and sweatpants. It's easier for me to go to practice afterwards if I can skip all the time needed to change into it if I wear it all day.
As I make my way downstairs, I find no sign of my dad, who I assume has already left, and a note from my mother next to a crisp twenty dollar bill.
In the shower Didn't have time to make breakfast Grab something on the way to school
I stick the twenty in my pocket and grab my bag. I make sure to lock the door behind me and make my way to my royal blue Jeep Wrangler, and on the way to school I blast the music as loud as I can to drown out the ever-looming Seal Bay Charter game this week.
~~~🦋🦋🦋~~~
Breanna meets me outside of the school doors. Normally she would wait into her car until I got to school, then we'd meet at my car and walk in together. Today the sun gave off a gentle warmth, making the air devoid of any winter weather.
She dresses like I do, but instead of a t-shirt she sports a hoodless sweatshirt with our school mascot on it. Her bright eyes give no indication of stress for our upcoming game. I hope I mask my emotions as easily as she does.
She narrows her eyes at me. Crap. "You okay, Rue? You seem a little stressed."
I shrug my bag higher up onto my shoulder, hoping the action covers up my nervous shifting. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just a little sore," I say, rubbing my lower arm. "I probably didn't ice enough last night."
She eyes me, but seems content with my response for now. We walk side by side into school and up to the second floor, where my locker is located. A couple underclassmen team members are clustered around my locker, looking agitated. As we approach, they turn their heads towards us, their eyes wide. They move away to let us take a look.
