Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Fifty-Three: Arizona

If you ever feel lame, remember that @fakeempires is writing a Christian Yelich fanfic that already has fifty-three parts, okay? OKAY!

Anyway, back to some dramarama.

***

The plane ride to Arizona was short, but unpleasant. A mix of morning sickness and nerves kept me in the bathroom for most of it. I wasn't ready to face him, but I was out of excuses.

"Did you let him know you're here?" Hannah asked me as we drove our rental to our hotel.

"Not yet," I whispered. "Can we just enjoy the game, and I'll text him later? I don't want to distract him while he plays."

"Okay, you can have that. An award for your bravery in getting this far." Hannah smiled at me.

***

I didn't want anyone to recognize me, so I put on a Brewers hat my mom had bought me for Christmas a couple of years ago "to represent Milwaukee in Los Angeles" and covered my eyes with dark sunglasses. "No one will know, right?" I asked Hannah.

"Maybe if they're a super fan, but I think the game will draw all the attention away from you. You should be okay."

"Can you wear sunglasses too?" I asked Hannah. "More people know who you are," I joked.

"Of course," she informed me as we made our way into the stadium to watch the White Sox at Brewers. She pushed her shades from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose before we found our seats.

"This is awfully close," I whispered. We were only a few rows behind the home on-deck circle. "He's going to see me.

"Relax," she urged. "Plus, you're here to see him. It's not a big deal if he sees you."

I placed my hands in my lap and looked down at them anxiously. It was the first time I noticed that my stomach protruded a little more than it used to. "I'm showing," I continued to whisper.

Hannah looked over at my stomach and laughed. "You look like you have a tiny food baby forged by a single hotdog. You're fine."

I tried to get lost in the game, but I was having difficult focusing on what was happening, mainly because #21 was standing in the on-deck circle right in front of me, and he kept giving me strange looks.

"#21 is staring at me," I whispered.

"You're being paranoid. He's sorta cute, though. You should be flattered if he is."

Hannah watched #21 for a moment and tapped my knee. "You're right. He's definitely looking at you." He gave me another glance before taking his at-bat.

Christian, on the other hand, paid no attention to the audience while in the circle. He just took a few practice swings in time with Travis' pitches and moved into the batter's box before hitting an effortless double. Hannah cheered loudly for him while I clapped subtlety – not wanting to draw attention to us.

Seeing him made me feel queasy again, a sensation that initiated my first trip to the bathroom. I ended up spending most of the nine innings out of my seat.

"Where were you?" Hannah asked in annoyance when I returned at the top of the ninth. "The game is almost over. You've been gone three hours."

"I was just doing the new usual. You know, vomiting. I also took a walk around the stadium; that was nice."

"You could have invited me, jerk. That #21 guy is still glancing in this direction from the dugout every now and then."

"I looked him up. His name is Travis Shaw. Maybe he's into you, and that's why he keeps looking our way."

Hannah shook her head. "Nah, I think he recognizes you. Anyway, you should text Christian now that the game is over."

I took out my phone from my bag and started to text Christian. It felt like the right time . . . If there ever was a right time for this sort of thing.

Annie: Can I see you tonight, please? I'm in Arizona. I'm actually at your game.

Annie: Nice hit, by the way.

I tapped send and then glanced out at the field. I quickly noticed Christian flirting with a woman out of the corner of my eye. My heart dropped as he pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn't long or particularly passionate, but it was still a kiss. And that meant something, especially for him to do it in public in front of a crowd of a few thousand people.

I booked it out of the stadium as quickly as I could; Hannah struggled to keep up with me, even despite my nausea. I knew she saw the same thing I did.

"Annie, I'm so sorry you had to see that," she muttered breathlessly once she caught up to me in the parking lot. "You run really fast when you want to," she whispered as she pulled me into a motherly hug.

"He didn't do anything wrong," I cried into her shoulder, my voice muffled. "I let him go. I shouldn't have expected anything different. I don't even know what I want"

"That doesn't mean you don't have a right to feel hurt," she said softly. "Let's head out, okay? I'll even let you eat some sugar."

I used the back of my hand to push up my sunglasses and wipe the tears away from underneath the frames.

"I can't tell him now. I can't do anything to jeopardize his new relationship; that would be extremely selfish."

Hannah nodded that she understood how I was feeling in the moment. "Do you want to drive home and tackle this problem again soon?"

"Yes," my voice was barely audible. By "yes," I meant I never wanted to tackle the problem. He didn't need to know. Maybe he'd find a happy life with her, and they'd have a family after knowing each other a reasonable amount of time. She could travel with him and cook for him and watch his every at-bat. I couldn't do any of those things.

"Girl, you're spacing out. Let's go. If we leave now, we'll be home by midnight."

"Thank you for not making me stay."

"It's going to be fine."

"You keep saying that, and I was starting to believe you, but I'm not so sure anymore."

We found our rental and started the long drive home to Los Angeles.

***

After showering and changing clothes, I grabbed the rest of my things from my locker as Shaw and I made our normal post-game small talk. "Dude, how's Paige? Isn't she awesome?"

"Yeah, she's pretty great," I mumbled while looking at my phone to check texts. "Holy shit, man. Annie texted me. And she's here. I have to find her." I stuffed all of my items into my backpack as quickly as I could.

Travis rolled his eyes and shook his head at me. "Yeah, I saw her a few rows behind the on-deck circle. She was with another woman . . . Who was also pretty hot. Don't tell my wife I said that."

"And you didn't tell me?" I asked, my tone clearly upset – borderline angry.

"You were finally getting over her, man. You and Paige seem pretty happy when you're together, and she's happy with you. I didn't want to ruin that progress."

"That was an asshole move, Shaw. You don't do that type of shit just because you want to see me with your best friend. Yeah, I like Paige. She's pretty and nice and fun. But I'm in love with Annie. Like, insanely in love with her. And I don't think she'd come here to fuck with my head. She came here for a reason."

I quickly responded to Annie's text.

Christian: Where are you? Name the time and place, and I'll be there.

Christian: I still love you, Annie Delaney.

Hopefully she wouldn't keep me waiting too long.