“Someone’s dogging ya,” Kidd says as he nods behind me. I can hear my name being called, but I don’t want to look because he’s likely up to something. The fact that my name is being called means nothing, since the kids are always trying to get us to sign things, give them a bat during the game or even look at them. It was a thrill when it happened to me so I know what it’s like to get attention from your favorite player, let alone any player.
“Just a fan, I’m assuming,” I say, shrugging him off and focusing on Mackenzie’s at bat.
He shakes his head and starts laughing. “A super fan,” he says, nodding behind me again. “You might want to turn around.”
“You might want to pay attention to the game. Mackenzie could hit a foul ball and smack you in the tallywacker.”
“Jesus Davenport, just turn the hell around.”
I roll my eyes and finally give in, but only halfheartedly. I look over my left shoulder and see no one calling me and over my right to find the same thing.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kidd swings the bat a few times before he stops because Mackenzie has a hit and is now on first base. “Turn all the way around, Davenport. Stop being a bitch.”
I do as he says and I’m met with a pair of green eyes that I have burnt into my memory. She’s sitting behind our dugout in the center seat. She stands and points to her shirt. The front of it says, “I’m sorry”. I can’t help the stupid ass grin that is plastered all over my face.
I lean forward, resting my hands on the edge of the dugout. “Are you busy after the game?”
“No,” Daisy says with a smile.
“You are now,” I say, not caring that I’m probably jumping the gun and assuming she wants to see me. It’s not a guess; I know she does. “Stay right there and I’ll come get you when the game is over.”
Before I know it, we’re on the Jumbo Tron with hearts all around our picture. She covers her face and I turn back to the game, only to turn around and wave my hat at the section she’s in. They roar with cheers and start chanting my name.
We win, nine to one. I had a few more base hits and some RBI’s to add to our run count. Every Renegade player had at least one base hit. It’s odd when that happens, but we take it and run with it when it does. As soon as I enter the clubhouse the reporters are there. They call my name and instead of going to them, they come over to me and shove their microphones into my face as soon as I sit down.
“Ethan, you made a pretty big display of affection today during the game. Do you care to tell us about your girlfriend?”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember. She means everything to me.” Suddenly their microphones are even more in my face.
“What’s her name?”
“Baseball!”
I wish I had a camera at this exact moment so I can capture their expressions as they all deadpan at my answer. They’re stupid if they think I’m going to say anything about Daisy. We have a long road ahead of us and the last thing we need is the media hounding us. I do enough stupid shit that brings us plenty of attention. We don’t need any more.
The reporters don’t like me much after that answer, not that I can blame them. Kidd punches me in the shoulder and winks at me.
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