It was a chilly day in May, with a few clouds in the sky. The sun was barely peaking out from behind them. The grass wasn't even fully green yet. The birds were silent, and the only noise there was were the crack of the bats hitting the ball and the crowd cheering. I had learned how every player on my brother Zach's team hits. Now, my brother was up to bat. I watched intently.
The first pitch was pitched. It was a perfect pitch! My brother swung!.... He missed.... I watched the ball land in the catchers glove. I watched him carefully now. The way he grabbed the ball from the glove and threw it back to the pitcher or first base I don't remember was perfect. The way he bent down to catch, the way set up his feet, the way he did everything. It was perfect.
At the time I didn't realize what I was saying because it was just a stupid boy who would NEVER like me. I wasn't the prettiest girl or the skinniest girl, so I didn't have a chance. I always thought negatively about myself so I didn't think anyone would ever like me. I remembered the catchers number for some odd reason. He was number 10. He played on BMU's Varsity team.
