The Catcher: Tomorrow

Chapter Three: Tomorrow

I don’t know. I am not sure. I just don’t. I don’t know if I can go up to Andrew. Not even a ‘hi’. I hate myself… I really am and I’m gunna blow it… again. Why?! I feel like I am going to throw up. You know what? I’m gunna do it. I mean he won’t notice me after all Springsteen is playing in the background and he is jamin’ out to that so…  he won’t notice me anyway. I thought to myself, I have one chance and it’s now or never, the concert is going to be over soon. Ok.

Wait… no… I can’t. What am I doing??? I am a lean and mean baseball star, who takes no prisoners and I am not a fuckin’ wuss. A weak or ineffectual person. I look at my phone it’s 7:00 pm on the dot. Concert ends at 7:30 pm. Plus, it’s getting a bit chilly out and might just head home.  All I know is time’s running out and he is meant for me… and always will be.

As I walk over, I hear a voice, ‘Hey Oliver.’ I peer over my shoulder to see who it was. It was Will, a teammate. ‘What’s up?’ I don’t give him a response… just a quick nod. ‘Killer arm you got there Oliver.’ I wanted to say Look man, I can’t talk right now… I have one chance and I can’t blow it… but Yeah dude was the only thing that translated into words. Will obviously hasn’t gotten the hint: ‘I haven’t seen anyone with that good of an arm… coach noticed too and he wants you to start.” He paused and continued: ‘you are a starter not a relief.’

Will said something afterword, but I didn’t catch it. It was just blah. I am more concerned with Andrew. I was awoken to reality (it must have only been a couple minutes, but felt like forever) when Will shouted: ‘Are you even listening?’ He paused and continued: 6 am tomorrow for a morning workout. See you there. Ronsen isn’t pitching, you are… get in the game!’ I nod.

Shit. Fuck. Where is he? Shit. I blew it… again!  It’s now or never. I look at my phone again. 7:15 pm.  I gotta find him. I dive into the crowd… it’s a miasma. People are leaving in a very disorganized manner. Bumping into people as they contort themselves out. Then there are those who stay for the last couple minutes. Unmoved by what going around them… just soaking in the moment. I can’t find him. After a couple more minutes… still no sight of him. Shit. I guess time to go back to my car…  I blew it… again! I can’t stand it!

It’s chilly out and I gotta get back home anyway… practice at 6 in the morning… Ronsen isn’t pitching. Then out of the corner of my eye… Andrew. He’s walking over. He shouts: ‘Dude, never thought you’d be here.’ I catch my breath. Yeah dude… Yeah. What a fucking coincidence. Andrew continued: ‘great show eh?’ Yeah… killer show. Andrew I guess sensed something: ‘What’s wrong?’ I gasp… he cares… me? Andrew continued: ‘Look… we are from rival teams… but you don’t have to act that way. Hi, I am Andrew. Nice to meet you.’ I exhale harshly: Nice to meet you… I am Oliver. Look I am not mean… I don’t know how to say this… I mean… we only just met face to face… I mean off the field… again I… Andrew nodded… slowly taking it in. ‘Whew. Don’t worry, I won’t judge… spit it out.’ I like you and always… I sighed and held back my tears. Andrew came in and hugged me, as if we known each other for forever. He whispered: ‘Don’t cry, I know. Me too… me too.’ 




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