𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 | 𝐛. 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 - 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧

"BENJAMIN, can I speak with you?" Lennon asks.
I try to ignore her. We've torn each other limb from limb, we don't need to do this in public.
"Benny, please!" She calls out, running after me.
I have to ignore her. I have to ignore her. I have to ignore her.
"Come on, Benny. You can at least talk to me!" She shouts.
I spin around, my eyes narrowed at her. What did she just say?
"I don't have to say shit. You left me all alone in that Sand-hole. You lied to me. So, as far as I'm concerned, I don't have to talk to you until I'm ready." I say. "We made a promise, a truce. We promised to not speak to avoid conflict in our careers. When we try to talk, we end up hurting each other even worse."
Her eyes meet mine. Her blue eyes turn clear like water. I'm hurting her—I'm hurting Lennon. She bites her lip and sighs out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Can you tell me how you succeeded with such an amazing catch in tonight's game? The watchers back home are dying to hear how you did it." She changes the subject.
I cock an eyebrow. Her cheeks are red and her hands are shaky. She's holding it all in.
"What, you brought it up and then you're quick to change the subject when you're under fire? What, are you afraid your fans will look at you differently if they know the truth about you?" I ask.
Her eyes start to turn red—you know how when you know you're going to cry but you don't want to so you hold in the tears and your eyes turn red? That's how she looks. I'm making her look this way. I'm attacking Lennon.
"There's nothing to tell, Mr. Rodriguez. Now, tell us about that spectacular catch earlier tonight." She says.
I shake my head. She can't talk about it. She won't talk about it. All those weeks of looking at each other, the touching, the hugging, the talking. It's all been like this—avoiding the subject, and now... She can't talk about it. Our efforts last week failed us and now we can barely look at one another.
"No. Not until you tell me about why you can't talk about it. What's so bad about talking about heartbreak? This is the United States of America, after all. Everyone at home is probably dying to hear the juicy details. So, go on, Lennon. Tell them." I say.
She furrows her eyebrows. Her peach pink lips curl down into a frown. She licks her bottom lip and shakes her head.
"Why are you such an Asshole?" She asks, her voice breaking. "You said you didn't want to talk about it! And I agreed! But you just can't let it go. You just can't let me have my heartbreak in peace!"
I scoff, rolling my eyes. I laugh, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Your heartbreak? What heartbreak? You didn't come back. That's your fault!" I shout.
She shakes her head. Tears start to stream down her cheeks.
"No, it's not! I tried, Benny! I tried to come home! Don't you see that? I tried, damn it!" She screams at me.
Her bottom lip quivers under her teeth. She swallows, sniffling quietly.
"You didn't try, Lennon. You never even came home. I went to the airport every day, hoping I would see you. You never came. You didn't try. I'm surprised you didn't forget me." I say.
She places a hand on her forehead. Her hand shakes on her skin. I turn around, going to leave. Her hand grabs my jersey, bunching it up on my chest. Her hand shakes as it holds onto the fabric of my jersey.
"Do you really think I could forget you? I dream about you every night. And when I wake up, I cry because I remember that I didn't make it back to you in time. I cry because I know that you hate me. I tried to come home. I bought a plane ticket. I tried to fly out—they kept canceling the flight. By the time I made it back to the valley, you were gone. I went to the Sandlot, expecting you to be batting. But it was empty. You were gone. I asked Smalls where you went and he said you made it to the Minors. So I let you go. Two years later, I was watching a Dodger's game with my Dad and I saw your name on the screen. I've been their number one fan ever since. For you. For you, Benjamin Rodriguez." She says.
I can feel my expression soften. I never knew that. I left so abruptly. I needed a distraction. The minors accepted me and I left without a second's hesitation. I barely gave my friends a chance to say goodbye. Lennon reaches up to her hat and takes it off. She folds it slightly and hands it to me.
"I think you'll need this more than I will. I won't be needing it where I'm going." She says.
I take the hat. She turns, releasing my jersey. I grab her hand, pulling her back slightly.
"Wait, Lennon. Where are you going? What are you doing?" I ask.
She sighs, looking at my hand. She steps closer again.
"I'm going home, Benny. We don't work well together—you said so yourself. And You and I both know it. One of us has to leave. You were here first." She says. "So, I quit. Good luck."
I release her arm in shock. She turns, walking away quickly.
"Lennon, wait!" I shout. "Don't go, please. Please."
She looks back at me, a sigh suppressed in her lungs. I approach her. She looks up at me, her lips parted to speak softly.
"Kiss me, Benny." She whispers.
I cock an eyebrow, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.
"Really? You really want me to kiss you after all I've done to hurt you?" I ask.
She nods, a frown on her perfect peach lips.
"Kiss me, Benny. So, that way, I can leave, and you'll know that we can survive without each other." She whispers.
I nod, pressing our foreheads together. She's leaving. Really leaving. She's leaving again, and this time, it is my fault. I press our lips together, gingerly kissing her. Sparks ignite from the tension. The attraction is almost impossible to break. It's a magnetic pull towards her. I back away, sighing. She touches my cheek, her thumb brushing the corner of my lips.
"Goodbye, Benjamin Rodriguez." She says. "You deserved so much better. I'm sorry."
She removes her hand from my cheek and turns. She walks away, disappearing beyond the doors. I look down at my hand, looking at the baseball cap. I turn around, my eyes burning. My cheeks are wet, wet with tears.
"What are you doing? Go after her! There's a flight leaving for New York in 45 minutes! You could catch her!" Cal exclaims.
I shake my head, looking up at the sky. She really left.
"No, Cal. I don't think I'll catch that flight." I say, exhaling shakily.