Home Run [TSDSB one-shot]

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THERE'S A TINY CREATURE laying on the base of a tree.

From where you're standing, gym sneakers against old cracked pavement, it seems to be a cat of some sort. Maybe one of those orange Tabbys that you see frequently around your neighborhood.

You wonder where they go everyday. They could belong to someone. Little messengers that prowl the streets in the day time, soaking up the warm sunlight into their skin only to report back to their owners with stories of their adventures.

One time, way back in the day when you still wore sparkly clear lip gloss and traded stickers, you were walking home from school during the winter. Your eyes, which were almost concealed by your scarf, saw Miss Carter take one of the cats into her home and sit down in the rocking chair by her window. You didn't know much about cats but something in your mind told you they weren't fans of the colder months. She had placed him (or her, you weren't too sure) on the windowsill, directly in front of the path you were taking. The cat slumped down in what looked like relief and you could practically hear it purr.

Much to your dismay, there's a loud bang to your left and you stop reminiscing, your attention shifting back to the teenage boy next to you. Now, you can't help but giggle. Gomez is crouched in front of the double doors, one knee sitting up while the other supports his weight on the ground. His hands reach up to push away his blonde tresses that tickle the pale skin beneath it. His hair is longer recently, He glances at you in frustration before letting out an annoyed huff. You get a glimpse of the small trickles of sweat on the back of his neck.

"Told you punching it wouldn't help," you tease, a small smirk appearing on your lips.

He just rolls his eyes. "Yeah well if you hadn't thrown that basketball at David's face maybe we wouldn't be on equipment duty."

You bite your lip in guilt, sometimes you could get carried away, especially when you knew David Mitchell was going to be playing for the opposing team.

David was rude and normally never spoke unless absolutely necessary, and when he did it was full of arrogance. He was extremely short and weirdly skinny when he moved to your town. So many people underestimated him, including you.

In a way, he was one of your biggest rivals and you had yet to beat him in a one-on-one match, or at least that was true until today. In the last seconds of the game, right before the last bell of the day rang, you beat David Mitchell at basketball for the first time in four years, and damn did it feel good. The only problem was that David was a sore loser, and after purposefully tripping you while you were walking to the locker room, you reached for the first thing you saw and threw it at his face, which just so happened to be a brand new basketball that was lying on the court. How ironic.

Gomez saw the whole ordeal and being the protective friend he was, decided to trip David right as you threw the ball at him, the orange sphere flying through the air before it crashed straight into one of the gym's windows. Needless to say, you both took a huge loss for the day.

Gomez could see the guilt on your face and let out a sigh. "But I do admit that you have an amazing arm. Maybe you should be a weightlifter instead of dribbling a basketball. You already have the body of one." You gasped and reached down to punch him in the arm.