Chapter 5
Jase
Three Months Later
I took shortstop for a cold gameday in February. After warmups to start the inning, I got set at my position.
Martin took the mound, and his first pitch was right down the middle.
The batter watched it zip by for strike one.
The hitter squared early on the next pitch, as if he were going to bunt, then pulled back, watching the ball hit the right corner of the strike zone for strike two.
The third pitch came at the knees, and he hit it toward me.
I moved for it, took the hop clean, and threw it across the diamond for the out at first base.
Cal Poly’s next hitter battled and drew a walk. With a runner on first, the third batter chased a ball away and outside, chopping it toward Ortiz at second. He gathered the ball and fed it to me, my right foot sliding over the bag for the force as I fired the ball to first.
Double play.
Inning over.
Coach Michaels met us at the top step, giving each of us a high five as we entered the dugout. “Good half inning. Let’s get those bats hot.”
Murillo led off, fighting through seven pitches, then took a walk.
Christensen bunted him over to second, taking the out at first. Then I was up.
The first pitch missed, coming inside and a little too close to my hands for my liking.
I choked up a little on the bat and waited for the next pitch.
The hurler threw a curveball, and I swung, sending it into right center.
Murillo scored from second, and we were up 1-0 just like that.
Dylan batted next and popped out to left. Farlow followed, and although he hit five foul balls, he ultimately struck out for the third out.
In the top of the second, the Mustangs dropped a hit into center. Dylan charged and held the runner at first, where he stayed because Martin was on fire, striking out the next three batters.
It was a close game. Dylan worked the count even in the fourth, got a fastball up, and drove it to the right-center alley. He took second standing and turned it into a triple when the relay missed the cutoff. On the next pitch, Ortiz lifted a deep fly to left, and Dylan tagged up and scored.
2-0.
Cal Poly pushed in the fifth with a leadoff walk.
They ran on a hit-and-run, and the ball found the hole on the right side, leaving runners on first and third with no outs.
With the corners in and the middle infielders at double-play depth, the next hitter chopped one to me.
I moved to second, stepped on the bag, and turned the double play.
We traded the run for two outs, leaving the score two to one.
The next batter lined out to left on the first pitch, and the inning was over.
“They got lucky,” Goodall stated as we headed off the field.
“Let’s get that run back,” I replied.
We didn’t get it back in that inning or the next.
They loaded the bases in the seventh with a single, a walk, and an infield hit up the third-base line.
Our reliever was struggling to find the zone, and Coach Ruiz jogged out to the mound as the infield came in to hear what our pitching coach had to say.
“Breathe. Work the knees and let your infield help.”
“Yeah, let them hit it to me.” I smirked.
Ruiz headed back, and we brought the middle in halfway, keeping the corners even.
The next hitter hit a one-hopper to my left, just like I wanted.
I slid, came up, and fired home. Our catcher stepped on the plate for the force out, then threw to first. Double play.
Two outs, runners left at second and third.
The next batter chased a slider in the dirt for strike three.
The student section jumped and cheered as we walked off the field, grateful we’d kept the Mustangs from scoring.
Ortiz started our half and shot a single through the right side.
Pak entered as a pinch runner and stole second on the following pitch.
Navarro was next. He stayed on a slider and lined it to left, and Pak held at third.
Goodall came up and chopped one to the right side.
Pak scored, Navarro moved to second, and Goodall was thrown out at first.
3-1.
One out.
Sato lifted a fly to center for out two. Murillo went down swinging, ending the inning.
“At least we have a little cushion,” Dylan said as he grabbed his glove.
“Yeah, but wish it were more,” Farlow affirmed.
Of course, we wanted to be ahead by more than two runs, but at least we weren’t losing.
In the eighth inning, Cal Poly went three up and three down. We threatened again in the bottom half, with Dylan pulling a double into the corner. Farlow moved him to third with a clean grounder to second. We didn’t cash it in, but we were still up by two going into the ninth.
Our closer, Kane, took the mound, and the first batter dumped a single into shallow left.
The next batter walked, and the following hitter tried to jump on the first pitch and rolled it to me at short.
I went to second, Ortiz turned it, and the runner beat the throw by half a step, leaving runners on the corners with one out.
Their four-hitter stood in and stared down Kane on the mound.
The first pitch was a strike, the second was fouled off into the stands near Cal Poly’s dugout, then Kane missed low for a ball.
Kane went fastball in next, and the hitter fouled again.
Two and two. Kane threw a slider away next, and the batter swung and missed.
Two outs.
The home crowd was on their feet as the next Mustang stepped up to bat. Kane threw one belt-high for strike one. His next pitch was a fastball up, and the batter hit a fly ball into right-center. Dylan charged and caught it at his knees, then held on.
Game.
We won 3-1.
I parked my 4Runner in my usual spot in the underground garage at our apartment complex, and Dylan and I grabbed our stuff.
He unlocked the elevator with his fob and stepped in first. I followed and pressed the button for our floor.
The elevator stopped on the ground floor, and the doors opened to reveal Mr. Wells from 3D holding a bouquet of red roses.
“Beautiful roses. Are those for Mrs. Wells?” Dylan asked as the older man stepped inside.
Mr. Wells pressed the button for the third floor. “Absolutely. I’ve been giving her red roses every Valentine’s Day for forty-two years.”
I balked. “It’s Valentine’s Day?”
Mr. Wells furrowed his brow. “You don’t know the date?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Baseball and school kinda consume our lives.”
“I knew it was Valentine’s Day,” Dylan stated. “Just don’t have a valentine.”
“That too.” I chuckled.
The elevator stopped on the third floor, and Mr. Wells stepped out. He turned and said, “You have plenty of time to find the one. Just have fun.”
“Oh, we are.” I grinned. “Tell Mrs. Wells hello for us.”
The older gentleman walked away as the doors closed.
We took the elevator to the fifth floor and headed for our apartment.
Mrs. Cohen’s dog barked hello through the door as we passed.
Dylan unlocked our door and took off his shoes as soon as he was inside.
“Want to go out tonight? Maybe find someone to hook up with?” he asked.
The thought of going out on Valentine’s Day didn’t sound appealing. “Not really. I’d rather order in and watch a movie or something.”
“Ortiz was talking about hitting up the taco truck near campus for dinner. I can bring you back something if you want.”
My stomach growled at the thought of the carne asada tacos with the salsa verde I could bathe in. “Yeah, grab me my usual.”
“Cool.”
He headed for his room while I went to mine where I changed out of my jeans and into joggers to get more comfortable.
Lying on my bed, I started scrolling through The Loop, stopping on a post Faye had posted five minutes ago.
The caption read: Galentine with my bestie, with a line of hearts and a cupcake.
In a boomerang-style clip, the pair blew kisses at the camera.
I watched it again, my finger itching to tap the like button, but I didn’t. I never did. I opened our thread and let my eyes linger on the last exchange from eight months ago. I hesitated for a beat, then started to type:
Happy Valentine’s Day. Red suits you
To my surprise, I saw that she read the DM right away, and then she started typing.
Compliments from LA. Bold move for a guy who heard no last time
I remember the no. I also remember the 4th
That was a good night. Where’s Dylan btw?
Getting us tacos
Aw, are you having your own Palentine?
Palentine? Is that what it’s called?
Yeah
Then I guess we are but we don’t look as good as you and Morgan do
Oh? What are you wearing?
My eyes widened at her unexpected question, and I smiled as I texted back:
Gray joggers
Of course you are
What’s wrong with that?
Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s actually pretty sexy
Smiling wider, I replied:
You think I’m sexy?
It took her a full minute to answer:
Do you think I would have slept with you if I didn’t?
Then why did you turn me down when I messaged you before?
Because I can’t let you think I’d just spread my legs for you whenever you want
But you want to again?
If it happens, it happens
I’d like it to happen
If it does, when do you think it will?
Fallon’s wedding
You were invited?
Yeah. Me and Dylan
Then I guess we’ll see what happens