Running Home

The Big Game

One man on first base, two strikes, and the cruel pitcher of fate.

"Come on queer just hit the ball, or do you need a rainbow tutu?" The catcher pulled me out of my haze, screaming and hollering like always. How did our championship game end up just like that one desperate night?

"Aye blue, you gunna do anythin about him talkin to my player like that?" My coach was calling out the umpire, but again he apparently didn't hear anything from either side.

It wasn't my fault that I was open and out unlike you. Why aren't you?

Adam was on first base, just like the night where you had a little too much to drink. You had walked clumsily into the little cafe I worked in after a party. Talking for hours, spilling little things about you that I already knew, but I let you be. Then you blabbering about boys being cute, I couldn't help but feel my heart flutter from excitement. We ended up out back behind the cafe, sipping coffee that was slightly too hot.

You were tipsy I knew that. You were loud, giggly, and flirty, the exact opposite of you when we're in chemistry together. But when you leaned in I couldn't help but do the same.

Our noses smashed into each other, and you pulled back laughing, I'm pretty sure Japan could hear your laughter. It was cute, just like the tinge of pink on your cheeks.

You began to lean in again, but this time I let you do all the work, I didn't think either of our noses could take it again. Our lips brushed for a second, and it felt as if my whole life was leading up to that moment, but you kept leaning, unfortunately to the left.

You kissed my cheek, and passed out onto my shoulder. As much as I wanted that to have a different outcome, I couldn't help but admire you dark hair and matching eyelashes. Your hooked nose was casting a shadow onto your full lips, kissable lips.

I couldn't tell how much time had passed before you had awaken. I was admiring you when your eyes shot open. You had been slow to realize where you were, but when you did you had shoved me away, hard. I have a scar on my elbow from you from when I scraped it on the pavement. You had immediately ran down the alley and around the corner.

Strike One. Just like when I took a swing in the game, but heard it hit the glove of the catcher with a thud.

Strike two had been just the same. I took a swing and missed.

The next day at school I waited to talk to you. It felt like forever, an eternity of misery. I stood by your locker when you came around into the hallway, your arm was slung around your girlfriend's waist. I had forgotten all about her when I was to busy remembering where all your freckles were.

Your eyes locked with mine, and I was sold that you had wanted me just as much as I wanted you. Then you turned towards her, and pecked her on the lips and started walking towards me. It hurt to see her with you, it wasn't like I had a crush on you since I was 13 after spending years of little league together.

"Hey, Mat." You never call me Mat, always Matty, this isn't good. "Listen, yesterday was uh, well what I meant to say was I thought, well think that maybe we should keep it to ourselves. Actually let's just forget it happened alright, you know for Ashley's sake."

You remembered, that at least meant you weren't that drunk. I wish you were drunk now, so you didn't realize what you were saying. You just smashed my heart into a million pieces in less than a minute, but I knew well enough that all of those pieces still belonged to you.