17. Alex
“Why are they so big?” Alex clutches two balls in her hands and presses them against her chest. “Or at least bigger than average. And softer, right?” she asks Antonio.
“They’re exactly the size they’re supposed to be, because they’re softballs, not baseballs.”
“Ohhh, right.” Alex tosses the yellow-lime balls into a bucket and sweeps her gaze outside her position in front of the dugout. There’s a buzz of energy from what’s at least a few dozen people, some in bleachers, but most scattered across the grounds in red or blue track pants and hats.
No disrespect to soft or baseball connoisseurs, but she can’t tell the difference between the fields, bats, or mitts. Football is much more her speed, though she’s still just a spectator then. The only reason she’s here now is to support Sogno versus prism’s annual extramural game. Funny enough, football is the sport they’d usually be playing, but since Evren, Stefanie, and Dara signed up this time, a committee voted on switching to softball to make things more fair.
People like Alex, Yuna, and Ben opted to handle the more important things like equipment, water and towels, and–
“Woohoo, go babe!” Yuna hollers from the opposite covering at Frankie, who adjusts his cleats on the home plate. She shakes a set of blue pom-poms and does a few leaps in place, but the game hasn’t even started yet.
“You know…kinda disappointed I don’t have my own cheerleader,” Antonio says, inspecting his bat.
“You do. My pom-poms are over by the coolers. I had a whole costume, but it was mad short. And kind of tight. Too late to get the next size up, though.”
“Really?” he asks with a bit of skepticism. “Don’t you think you should have gotten a second opinion?”
Alex grins. “I did. Ben’s.”
“A third?”
“Yuna’s.”
Antonio’s eyebrows bunch together.
“If you still want to see me in it, just say so, Leo.”
“I do.” He steps closer, squeezes her hip, and whispers, “Then I can help you get out.”
Alex tries not to collapse. “Then… I guess you’d better win.” She laughs. “I feel like I should be wearing your varsity jacket or something. Go red team!” Antonio gives a small smile and Alex shimmies the remaining feet to the dugout to pour a cup of electrolytes, since Antonio has just stolen all of hers, and he’s barely touched her.
It’s not a secret that they’ve entered this bubble, but PDA has been fairly non-existent. They haven’t even held hands since her birthday, though Alex has ended up on Antonio’s office couch quite a few times in a fashion similar to that night. The liquid courage she had then is long gone by now, and she’s been nervous to go any further. Probably because Nik was the only person she’d been entertaining for a while, and technically it has only been a couple of weeks in this bubble, so she’s overthinking, as usual.
Alex drinks everything in her cup as Ben comes over and sits on a bench.
“You look…flushed,” he says with a smile.
“I, ugh–yeah.” She sits and leans on his shoulder.
“Well, save some energy for tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
Ben moves abruptly, twisting his body so he can face Alex with the wrath of a scorned king. If it weren’t for her reflexes shooting her arm onto the bench, she would have fallen on her face.
“Benjamin, what the hell?! I was kidding!”
“Well, it wasn’t funny! I almost had a heart attack.”
Alex pokes her bottom lip out. “I can’t believe you really think I’d let you down after how long we’ve been looking forward to this.”
Ben had finally (kind of?) found the courage to ask out Valentin (Salsa guy) by casually joking about a comedy show Frankie, Yuna, Alex, and Antonio were all seeing tonight and how he’d be the fifth wheel. The thing is, before last week, these plans didn’t actually exist.
“Unless…you’d want to join me?” is how Ben apparently phrased it.
And yes, he would. So Alex wasn’t about to let her friend look like a liar. Nor would she desert him knowing how much he was freaking out.
Ben sighs and relaxes his posture. “Perdón. I think I’m still just super nervous. I didn’t think he’d actually say yes.”
“Why wouldn’t he? You’re the total damn package.”
“Right…” He crosses an ankle over the opposite knee and shakes it.
Alex pokes him in the elbow. “Say it.”
“I’m…the total package?”
“Like you mean it!” She pokes him in the stomach and he cackles.
“Okay! I’m the total damn package!”
“Yes. We’re gonna have a really good time, and qué será, será. Right?”
Ben beams and nods. “Sí, mami.”
Satisfied, Alex redirects her attention to the field, and realizes the game has started. She’s just in time to hear the thud of Frankie’s bat against a ball. It floats high, but lands right in Antonio’s lifted hand. He catches her eye, tips his brows, and gives her a lazy smile. Then his face hardens as he tosses the ball to Pete at the pitcher’s mound, as if it never happened. So…maybe it was quick enough that only she saw it?
But Ben says, “You better drink some more of that if you’re gonna survive this thing. Even I feel thirsty now.”
Alex wipes her forehead and fills her cheeks with air before feebly shaking her red pom pom.
A competitive Antonio is sexy to watch, with his commanding voice and unflappable concentration (which makes the moments he chooses to focus on her even more captivating), but the game itself is way more entertaining than she expected.
If Alex didn’t know most of these people all knew each other, she would have thought they were mortal enemies. It’s not supposed to be that much of a contact sport, and yet, players are running and sliding into each other, and on three separate occasions, Antonio steps over one of his opponents, taunting him as he lies on the ground.
Every other outburst points out how trash someone is, how someone’s glad someone isn’t on their team (or pissed because they are). Only Evren and Dara are respectful, but that may only be because they don’t say much at all.
In the end, Antonio’s red team takes the win for what is the third year in a row, and Alex can’t help but feel a little pride–and relief, as everyone returns to normal and congratulates each other on a good game.
A guy in a blue cap jogs to the red team’s dugout and leans over the wired fence. Alex recognizes him as the one Antonio stepped over during the game. “Hey, sorry–you think I could grab some water? Our cooler’s empty.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Alex turns and bends, quickly retrieving one of the last water bottles from the cooler.
“Thanks. I’m Zeke, by the way.”
“Hi, Zeke, I’m–”
“Bye, Weighther,” Alex hears from behind Zeke. Antonio appears and walks around the gate to her side, and Alex practically shivers from his less-than-friendly stare. Maybe they are mortal enemies.
Zeke clicks his tongue. “I thought we were good now, Antonio?”
“This is me being good, Weighther. You got your water. Have a day.”
Alex inadvertently snorts. Just a day? This man is pettier than I am.
“Nice to meet you, beautiful stranger,” Zeke says after shrugging. “Thanks for the water.”
Antonio’s fist fastens as he lets out a long, low breath. Like a deflating balloon.
“What was that about?” Alex asks.
“Wasn’t it obvious? We’re the best of friends,” he responds tightly, still eyeing Zeke. Then he shakes his head. “I’ve never met anyone more snakey.”
“Seriously?”
Antonio looks at her. “Yeah, see, it’s that kind of shock that makes him even more aggravating. Nobody thinks he’s capable of being grimy, then next thing you know you’ve got a court date to prove the stash of coke in your trunk isn’t yours, but even though you know who it belongs to, you don’t wanna be a snitch.”
Alex gasps. “He did that to you?”
Antoio scoffs. “Course not. Frankie.”
“And they still work together?!” Then again, Alex doesn’t tend to sever ties so easily either, but in comparison to James’s offenses, well…no one has ever reached that level.
“It was a while back, so Frankie might have forgiven him, but…”
“We don’t fuck with Zeke,” Alex finishes.
Antonio flaunts a sly smile. “Nah, we don’t fuck with Zeke.” He reaches into a drawstring bag, pulls out a red cap, and puts it on Alex, backwards. “I don’t have a jacket, but does this work?”
She detains a schoolgirl squeal and nods. He holds her gaze for a second, eyes brewing up a tempest before they get closer, and closer, and then…
His lips are on hers.
Oh my God.
Alex feels a vulnerability in his touch, one she hasn’t felt before. It almost feels… shy? Antonio’s hand reaches out for hers, his thumb softly brushing the back. Even though this is the first time they’ve had an audience for their kiss, it doesn’t feel like a spectacle. This…whatever sentiment sparked this, is just for her.
“Holy shit. There we go,” someone says.
Is that…clapping?
Sure enough, when they pull apart, Yuna, Frankie, Ben, and Makeo surround them as if watching a street performance.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Antonio mutters. “What is wrong with you people?”
“Absolutely nothing, brother,” Frankie says, taking off an elbow guard. “Absolutely nothing.”
Antonio opens his passenger door for Alex, and she plops her canvas sneakers on the painted, white line. When she stands, she gets a hint of his fresh, clean scent and inhales for more.
“Thank you for doing this,” she says. “I know a double date is probably not on your top ten list of fun things.”
He closes the door after she’s out completely. “Not even top one-hundred.”
“Well, at least it’s not a triple date like it was supposed to be, since Yuna and Frankie can’t come anymore. So maybe that’s better?”
Antonio looks at the sun, half hidden by the horizon. “Not really.”
She sighs with a smile. “Welp. Points for honesty, I guess. Come on.”
Alex grabs his hand. It felt like the natural thing to do, and from the way Antonio instantly reciprocates, she wasn’t wrong. This just must be the day for testing boundaries.
A few feet up, Antonio jerks forward, and Alex grips his hand tighter, pulling him back a bit.
“Did you just…trip?”
“Why do you look so happy about it?” he asks.
“Because I am,” Alex says, her smile deepening. “Makes you seem more…I don’t know.”
“Seem more clumsy like you? I’ve got a hell of a way to go before that happens.”
“You know what? I hope you trip again. And next time, I won’t catch you.”
“Damn. Now I’m terrified.” Antonio trembles dramatically.
Alex somewhat hates that she can’t stop the laugh that falls out of her. “Yo, like…wow.”
As they walk closer to the venue, Antonio scrunches his nose. “Really?”
“What?”
“A Laugh’s Resort? That’s stupid as hell.”
“Oh, don’t be a jerk, Leo. It’s…you know.” Alex waves a hand towards the letters inside a flashing speech bubble sign with palm trees on the edges.
“It’s what?”
“It’s cute! Like a last resort? Or like…where laughs go to vacation? Either way, it’s cute!”
“You owe me.” He opens the door and gently presses her forward by the back of her neck.
“How can you say that when we haven’t even gotten to the actual show?”
“You. Owe me.”
What a baby. “Fine. We can stop by Leo’s and I’ll get you some chicken parm. How ‘bout that?”
“It’s a start.”
“Well, hello there, friends! Glad you could make it!” Ben exclaims, waving them over to a red, round, high-top table. The lobby is pretty empty for a show that starts in twenty-five minutes, but hopefully that’s because everyone’s mostly inside already.
Alex is happy to see Valentin looks exactly like his pictures, with his tousled, curly, black hair and hooded eyes. He has on a satin shirt with the top buttons undone, making her feel like he could break out into a eight-count demonstration at any moment. He looks ecstatic to see her, all but bouncing with energy and holding his arms wide open, but they fall before she gets there.
“Sorry, you good with hugs? I forgot we’ve never actually met.”
Oh my gosh, he’s adorable. “Hugs are great, Valentin.”
The ensuing embrace does not disappoint; it makes Alex feel incredibly warm and giddy.
Even more so does Antonio and Ben’s handshake-hug, which she’s seen sparingly and exclusively with Frankie and Gio.
Another boundary within the bubble, it seems. Though, this could be Antonio the businessman. She’ll take it, either way.
“Have you guys gotten anything to drink yet?” Alex asks.
Valentin shakes his head. “Nope. And apparently anything you get out here doesn’t count towards the minimum inside the showroom.”
“Oh, right, I forgot. I hate that rule. We ready, then?”
“Yup,” Ben says, leading them towards the front podium.
“So, Valentin, Ben was telling me you’re a welder? You do a lot of railroad maintenance?” Alex asks.
“Yup. I’m fourth-generation,” he replies, as they stand in line behind another group of four.
“Oh, how cool!”
“Thanks! And you, you’re in tech, right?”
“Uhh… yup.” She pulls at her ear. “Basically. Back to you, though, thanks for rounding out the group. Ben’s not the kind of guy to just fill space with anyone. So when he was like, you gotta meet Valentin, I knew you had to be special to him.”
“Is that so?” Valentin smiles broadly and bumps shoulders with Ben, who blushes.
“I-I–well…you know. Maybe.”
Alex chuckles. Et voilà. She peeks at Antonio, who’s looking at his phone but caressing her back. It dawns on her that she’s not entirely sure if this counts as their first date, too. It all happened rather inelegantly, but it still feels like a step up from dinner, since they’ve eaten together plenty of times.
She debates interrupting him, but gets sidetracked by the next song playing from the speakers, and begins singing along quietly.
Once they get to the podium, Antonio finally puts his phone in his pocket. “Sorry. Memorial Day stuff.”
Alex shrugs. “Anything else I can help with?”
“Not for that, but thanks.”
The staff person taps on a tablet. “Would you all be interested in upgrading to one of our booths? Dedicated server, premium view, and–”
“Yes. We’ll be away from everyone else, right?” Antonio interjects.
The staff member stammers, “Well, I mean…”
“Sorry,” Alex says. “I think he means not right next to anyone else. A separate booth.”
“Oh! Of course.”
“Then yes.” Antonio pulls out a card and hands it to the staff member.
“Would you also like this to be the card we use for your tab?”
Alex already knows another “yes” is milliseconds from rolling off Antonio’s tongue, but Ben beats him to it.
“No, it’ll be another one. Jeez, Antonio,” he says with a laugh. “I’m trying to impress someone, too.”
Alex giggles, partially because she’s certain Antonio isn’t paying just for chivalry, but for convenience. The staff person nods, swipes Antonio’s card, then hands their group off to someone else who leads them to a booth in the back, just close enough to the exit so it won’t be an awkward walk to the bathroom, or to exit, period.
Ben and Alex slide into the middle, while Antonio and Valentin take the edges. Their server approaches quickly, and they order a round of shots, cocktails, and some appetizers, not needing to deliberate much with such a limited menu.
Valentin pulls the table into a discussion with one of the most randomly polarizing prompts ever: over or under for toilet paper. Alex never knew it was such a huge deal, but apparently it can be to some people, Antonio included.
“That’s insane,” he says, after she shares she puts it on whatever way she pulls it out of the pack. “It’s over. Always.”
“Agreed,” says Ben.
“Hey, you two do whatever floats your boats.”
Antonio shakes his head, while his hand drifts down Alex’s thigh in search of hers.
She threads their fingers together. “Aww, you learning my love language already?” All too predictably, he sports his signature koala look, and Alex bursts into laughter. “Never mind.”
They sit through a rather rough opening act in which the comic shares the graphic details of their sex life. The next comedian spends most of their time battling a heckler, making Alex look forward to the intermission more than anything.
“I’m scared to ask what you think so far,” she admits to Antonio.
“I think… We may have found the one person on the planet who is even less funny than you are. And you most definitely still owe me.”
“Well…” Alex peeks over at Valentin and Ben, in their own world, then looks into Antonio’s eyes. “I’d say it was worth it.”