"I heard you scored a date, Gwen!" Brook giggles when I get to the patch of grass where me and Brook usually sit with my french fries.
"Uh, what?" Brook raises her eyebrows at me.
"You know, the one with Owen tonight?"
"First of all, it's not a date," I clarify, shoving a french fry into my mouth. I always underestimate how hot those french fries are. My tongue tosses it around the roof of my mouth, playing hot potato with it like 2nd graders when they're bored at play practice.
"Haha, if you say so." I roll my eyes.
"Second of all, how do you even know that?"
"Rumor gets around fast, Gwen. Being such a gossip veteran yourself, I thought you would have known that by now." She laughs, but her laugh is hollow and drawn out quickly.
"Perhaps I should've."
"I'm sure you haven't forgotten the fiasco back in October?" I nodded, remembering the trainwreck that was last halloween. It was rather embarrassing and I don't like thinking about it.
"Hey ladies," Owen towers above us, holding a bowl of french fries. He sits down cross-legged next to me. Brook smiles at me, her curly caramel hair falling out from behind her ears as she tilts her head. Her eyes hollow as they burn into my soul.
--
"Honey, Brook's here to see you!" I put down my book, and gaze back into the mirror on my vanity desk. A giant zit sits above my left eyebrow.
"Send her up, Ma!" Brook had called a few minutes earlier to check on what I was doing and what I was wearing, when I told her that I was reading and that I was wearing the same outfit I did to school that day, which was a sweater with sweatpants. She told me she was coming over and hung up before I could respond. I chuckle to myself in the mirror as I lean onto the desk, staring at the giant zit that seems like it takes up my whole face. Brook bursts through my door, clutching a hot pink handbag.
"Girl." She takes her time, staring at the atrocity of my dirty school clothes, korean ramen sauce that stains my sweater and my beige sweatpants that have dried paint sticking to them forever from the mural we did back in November. "You haven't started getting ready yet?" Her eyebrows go up in disbelief.
"The fair's in an hour, I think that's more than enough time, brook," I raise my eyebrow at her in response.
"You should at least be choosing your outfit for your date-"
"It is not a date-"
"And for all those guys you're going to kiss tonight-"
"It's a kissing booth, for goodness sake," I laugh as I push myself up from my swivel chair. She shakes her head, and holds in a laugh, striding over to my closet. Her hands quickly weave through all the different shirts and dresses in my wardrobe. She mutters to herself as she takes out a gudetama crop top and black distressed jeans. She holds it up in front of me.
"Not bad..." She stares at it for a second, then puts it back in the wardrobe. She starts rummaging through the entirety of my closet. This isn't new. I've succumbed to Brook picking out outfits for me during 'important' events. She finally pulls out a pink, off-shoulder dress that flares at the waist that I've only worn once, for my sister's wedding. Brook's grin grows wider, stretching to her ears as she nods. "Yessss..." She hisses.
"Noo..." I hiss back. My sister's wedding was a year and a half ago, so I doubt it would fit. "It's not going to fit."
"Fine..." Brook pouts. She finally holds up a loose white crop top and pastel pink jean shorts. "This is cute..." She throws it at me to wear.
Brook rips open her bag, that has all her colorful makeup and lip stuff. She whips out a fluffy brush and starts brushing it across my cheekbones and the tip of my nose. "Close your eyes." I close my eyes. "Ok, so imagine this. You're at the kissing booth-"
"I don't like where this is-" Despite my attempt to stop her, she continues, applying eyeshadow to my eye. Even with my eyes closed, I can hear the goofy mile in her voice.
"And you're blindfolded so you can't see who's in front of you, so you have to listen to decipher who it is." She glides my only pink lip gloss across my lips. "So you hear shuffling in front of you. He leans in, and you kiss him. You still can't quite tell who he is, but he tastes like cookies-"
"This is ridiculous-"
"His hand finds your wrist and grips it gently. It's warm, like fresh baked bread," I giggle at that statement. "Then you smell him. The same smell you've smelt for forever. It's... Owen!" My eyes shoot open suddenly.
"Stoppp," I laugh, pushing her away. I look at the heavily caked on mascara that Brook layered on my lashes in the mirror, and notice my cheeks turning a bright pink. "I would never imagine that," I lie.
"You just did, admit it hon," Brook chuckles. Our laughter dies down after a few minutes. "You do know what he thinks of you as, right?"
"A friend?" I sure hope so. It'd be kinda awkward if he did like me more than that, to be honest, as if it's not already awkward. I look up at her as she applies eyeliner to my eyes. A small laugh escapes her lips.
"Honey," My mom yells from the foyer. "Owen's here!" Brook jumps, throwing all her makeup off my vanity into her bag. She claps as she pulls me from the vanity and over to the larger mirror on my closet door, her smile as wide as ever.
"You look stunning!" She whispers into my ear. "If I were him, I would be going to the kissing booth more than once at 5:30." I playfully push her off of me.
"Ok, that's enough excitement for you today, sweetie." Brook giggles like a little school girl. Brook pushes me through my white door.
"Go get em' Tiger!" She smiles, and I smile back. "I have to help out with the kissing booth, so I'll catch up with you there!" I nod. I sling my bag around my shoulder and climb down the stairs to the kitchen, where mom is baking something, probably for Tony, my little brother, who's birthday is tomorrow. He's going to have a batman theme party and he's inviting all his friends, including Owen's little brother, Josh, who's in his class. Mom pulls out 30 dollars out of her mom jeans pocket.
"Don't spend it all in one place, pumpkin." She winks at me as I take the money from her. Despite her very Korean upbringings, she's adopted the "American mom" stereotype.
"Thanks, mom." My lavender socks make me slip across the wooden flooring as I try to run to the door as quickly as possible. I land on the floor in front of the front door and struggle to throw on my converse high tops quickly.
I lace them on and throw open the door to a very nervous looking Owen. He has a black leather jacket covering his one good arm and a plain white t-shirt, and black jeans. When the door opens he sees me and he doesn't smile. He just looks me up and down slowly and bites his lip.
"Is something wrong?" I ask after a hot minute of him just staring at me. "Is it the zit that's throwing you off?" I laugh, pointing to it.
"No, no, it's just... you look great," He smiles at me, running his hand through his hair. "Let's go."
YOU ARE READING
Baseball Bae (lol ima change the title later)
Romance(the cover has nothing to do with the story lol) It's baseball season in South Carolina, and Guinevere (Gwen) Gray has helped prepare Owen Sinclair, her best friend from like, diapers, for the season that could determine his baseball career for the...
