FWB Friends With Baseball

The Incident.

Jailyn~

"Things just got that much more complicated for me with the whole Instagram thing. WE need to make sure that we're being more careful from here on out. If it gets out that we know each other, I'm fucked." I text Christian knowing that so much more than either of us anticipated is in jeopardy now. There's still no way for me to wrap my head around everything from today. Waking up this morning, my only goal was to hit the gym. Now I'm dealing with social media drama, letting go of a friend, and now apparently on track to be an Olympian. This is all so insane. Sending Christian a follow-up text, "I don't mean to sound pissy or anything, today has just been, probably, the craziest day of my life. Good luck tonight, not that you need it, MVP. :P"

How am I even supposed to really decompress after today? It doesn't feel like the right call to tell anyone about my possible shot at the Olympics. Not at least until I make my decision on it. Talking about Christian and me is obviously off the table. Christian is really the only person I can truly talk to about everything going on, but he's in Miami. Odds are I don't even get a text back until probably midnight. This is all just insane.

My drive home is silent as I think about the conversation Cathy and I had. Obviously, it'd be incredible to even get a glimpse at the Olympic level. Let alone even be able to say I had a shot at that. Not even I can deny that right now as my own biggest critic. No matter how much I might be at that level, how am I supposed to feel like I am? If there were any cuts when I was in high school, I know that I'd have been cut because of that system. This decision seems impossible, even knowing I have time to make it.

Getting into my apartment, I toss my keys down along with my duffle so I can grab a shower before Christian's game starts. Grabbing a cropped hoodie and a pair of leggings, I head to my bathroom. I've got nothing going on today besides watching the game now. Maybe I should invite Tyler, see if he'll bring Dylan over. That actually seems like the best plan right now, given the insanity of today.

"No shit," I say, laughing when I open the door, "I didn't realize you were the Dylan this morning!"

Dylan laughs, and Tyler just looks confused, "He came up to me at the gym and was pushing the Yeli topic."

Tyler laughs, "Cause he knows that we're friends."

"Why the hell didn't you say anything," I ask Dylan.

"I didn't want to take it away from Ty," Dylan laughs, "And I felt like it'd be harder to give you shit if you knew."

Scoffing, I roll my eyes with a smile letting the two of them into my apartment. "Kristen coming?"

Shaking my head, I reply, "No, I'm no longer on speaking terms with her."

"Why?" He asks.

"She was being a bitch about me not sharing my sex life with her, then she called me selfish for it. Then she compared that to her not showing up to my mom's funeral. So, we're not talking," I tell Tyler, "I don't plan on reaching out either."

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't see that coming," Tyler comments. "Probably for the better in your case."

"Yeah," I reply. "Anyway, you guys make yourself at home, games on soon. If you guys want, I can order a pizza or something." Given how last minute this was, there wasn't too much planning that went into it. Just some good company to wind down after a crazy day.

The three of us talk until the beginning of the game pulls our attention. Neither Lorenzo nor Yasmani manages to get on base bringing Yeli up with two outs already. Resting my lips on the rim of my wine glass, I watch as the first two pitches get him a 1-1 count. Hernandez gets ready to pitch again, while my attention is on Christian as he gets set to continue his at-bat. The pitch comes in, and Christian makes contact fouling it off, immediately falling to a knee. I can't help my slight gasp, seeing him pretty obviously hurting. After about four seconds, he moves to sit, tucking his head between his knees. Holy fuck. Christian is still down even after the replay. This really can't be good. Fouling a ball off you sucks, but for the most part, they're pretty easy to shake off.