“I leaned my head back. "I look worse than I did the night you met me."
"I thought you looked fine."
I rolled my head to the side, so I could see him. Hoping the shadows made it so he couldn't see me. "What are you talking about? I looked like a Cirque du Soleil performer."
"What are you talking about?"
"The black dots around my eyes?"
He shook his head. "I'm lost."
"You were staring--"
"Oh, yeah." He gazed through the windshield. "Sorry about that. I've just never seen eyes as green as yours. I was trying to figure out if you wore contacts."
"You were looking at my eyes?"
"Yeah."
"Not the makeup?"
He turned his attention back to me. "I didn't realize you were wearing any. That night, anyway. Tonight it's pretty obvious."
"Oh." Didn't I feel silly? "I thought--" I shook my head. "Never mind." On second thought...
"You don't like all the makeup?"
"I just don't think you need it. I mean, you look pretty without it."
Oh, really? That was totally unexpected.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much players have to focus, and I know not to be a distraction. I just got caught up in the moment, in the great game, in your terrific pitching.”
But I felt a need to explain more.
“Look, Jason, I love baseball. I love the crack of the bat hitting the ball. I love the seventh-inning stretch and singing ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game.’ I love eating hot dogs and standing for the singing of the national anthem. I love doing the wave. I love Kiss Cam. I love that the game isn’t over until it’s over.
“I love the thrill of a home run and the disappointment of an out at first. I love the way a batter stands at the plate and the catcher readies himself to receive the pitch. I love watching the pitcher windup. I love sitting in the stands and feeling like I’m part of the game.
“And tonight, watching you pitch, I forgot that I’m only a small part—the spectator. Watching you, I felt like I was in the game, out on that field with you. You’re out there on the mound, living a dream that so few people ever experience.
“I’m sorry, sorry that tonight I ruined the moment for you.”
He was staring at me intently. I’d just bared my soul. Why didn’t he speak? What could he possibly be thinking?
My nerves stretched taut.
“Say something,” I demanded.
“There’s nothing else to say,” he said in that quiet way he had.
Then he lowered his head and kissed me.”
“As though suddenly realized how intimate it seemed to be in my bedroom, he cleared his throat and took a step back.
He gave my room one more look and took another step back. “It’s amazing what a room can reveal.”
Then he walked down the hallway and knocked on Tiffany’s door.
I wondered what he’d discover looking into her room.”
“Big surprise. Mom had instituted a curfew. Like there was something we’d do after midnight that we wouldn’t do before.”
“You know, the real problem is going to come in a few days when it begins yellowing. Then it’ll seriously clash with your reddish hair.”
Only Tiffany would worry about properly accessorizing a black eye.
“But it’ll go great with my eyes,” I said. “Because yellow and green go together.”
“Mmm. Might work. Still, come and see me if you want it to go away.”
And what was she going to do? Wave a magic wand?”
“What are you doing?” Tiffany sked.
Holding the cap, I faced her. “I have to wear the cap to get a discounted price on the barbecue.”
She snatched the cap from between my fingers. “You’re not ruining my creation with a baseball hat. Pay full price. Beauty isn’t cheap.”
“I looked in the mirror again. I wasn’t even sure I could get the cap on over the fluff. “Maybe we went a little overboard.”
“Trust me. We didn’t.”
I wasn’t so sure, though, when we walked into the kitchen where Dad was giving Jason pointers on driving in the rain, as though Raglan offered challenges he might never have encountered before.”
“Their jaws dropped.
Mom had been taking the lid off the tub of tonight’s dinner--fried chicken. Even she looked stunned.
I felt a need to explain. “My eye turned black. I asked Tiffany to cover up the bruising.”
“Well, she did an outstanding job,” Mom said.
“Took me three hours,” Tiffany said. “I need to get ready to go to the hospital. Have fun at Dave and Bubba’s.”
She left, and I wondered if I should go back upstairs, step into the shower, and wash everything off. Display my bruised face with pride.
“Do I need to put on a suit for this place?” Jason asked. “’Cuz I thought anything named Bubba’s would be casual.”
“Jason struck out the first, second, and third batters.
“Do not go talk to him,” Bird said.
“No problem.”
“Don’t even look at him,” she said.
“Now, that I can’t do. He’s so cute.”
“Once he stared the car, I said, “I just want you to know I’m paying for my meal, because I know it’ll be full price, and I didn’t want you to think I was expecting you to pay for it, because this isn’t a date. It’s just the team and the host sisters, brothers, whatever, getting together to have some fun tonight since it’s raining…or was raining…it’s obviously not raining now. And you’re just giving me a ride, not a meal.”
Shut me up! Shut me up! Shut me up!
He shifted into reverse, then backed out of the driveway. “I’m buying your dinner.”
“No, really--”
“Dani.”
It was the first time I could recall him actually saying my name. I loved the way it just rumbled, his voice so deep, so perfect. I wanted him to say it again, over and over.
But he’d stopped in the middle of the street. I figured any minute Dad was going to come barreling out of the house to find out what was wrong. I looked over at Jason.
“I’m buying your dinner, as my thanks to you for convincing your family to host me. Just accept it, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
He drove, and I settled into my seat, wondering what other surprises the night might hold.”
“No surprise. I was the only one at Dave and Bubba’s not wearing a Ragland Rattlers cap. Talk about feeling disloyal. And uncomfortable.”
“No surprise. I was the only one at Dave and Bubba’s not wearing a Ragland Rattlers cap. Talk about feeling disloyal. And uncomfortable.
My discomfort must have shown, because while we were waiting in line to get our food, Jason took off his cap, folded it, and stuck it in his back jeans pocket.
“You don’t have to do that on my account,” I said.
He shrugged. “I was taught not to wear a hat indoors.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever met anyone who did things with so little fanfare. I thought about telling him to put his hat back on, but the truth was, it made me feel less self-conscious not to be the only one.”
“Is there room for me to sit with y’all?”
Not really, but she was, after all, Miss Teen Ragland. And my sister.
“Sure,” I said. “We’ll make room.”
I scrunched up next to Bird.
“It’s a good thing I like you,” she whispered.”
“Whoa! Where’d your black eye go?” she asked as I set my tray down and sat beside her.
“Tiffany covered it up for me.”
“I’ll say. I hate to think how much she damaged the ozone with all the hairspray she must have used on your hair.”
“Thanks, Bird. You look nice this evening, too,” I said.
The waitress dropped off a basket of hot rolls. I grabbed one and started slathering butter on it.
“Sorry. It’s just a shock to see you looking so…”
“Pretty.”
“You’ve always been pretty.”
“Oh, please. Can we move on to another subject?” I glanced over to see Jason eating and talking with Brandon.
“Yeah, I think we better. I’ve heard of head injuries changing people’s personalities--”
“Bird, you don’t live with a beauty queen, okay? I know when it comes to appearances, I’ll always fall short. And if you want to know the truth, I’m a little self-conscious about the whole makeover.”
“Sorry,” she said.
“Subject change?”
“Right.” She looked around as though searching for a subject.
I hated being so irritable, but I just didn’t feel like me tonight.”
“As soon as we finished eating, we went to the back room where Dave or Bubba had set up half a dozen pool tables. Along the walls were pinball and old video game machines. I’m talking original Pac-Man. It was like this was where old games were put out to pasture.”
“Hey,” I said, wondering why I was either short on words or babbling when I spoke to him. I touched his hat. “Didn’t help. I still lost.”
The game, anyway. I’d won a date.
“Mac’s pretty good at pool,” he said.
“You’re no slouch, either.”
“It didn’t look like you were paying attention.”
In the beginning, until Mac had shown up, I’d been riveted.
“When I was looking at the program last night, I noticed you and Mac play for the same university,” I said, doing our usual change-the-subject thing. “You must know each other pretty well.”
“Pretty well.”
“He seems really nice.”
“He’s a pretty good guy.”
Not exactly a resounding endorsement. But then guys probably didn’t spend a lot of time complimenting other guys.
He’s the best. He’s the greatest. If I were a girl, I’d definitely go out with him.”
“Jason was the next batter. He did his whole Velcro routine. Then he stepped up to the plate.
The first ball went past.
“Strike!”
I groaned. “Come on, Jason.”
He swung at the second.
I didn’t realize I was squeezing Tiffany’s and Bird’s hands until Bird said, “You know, bones break under pressure.”
“Oh, sorry.” I tried holding my own hands, but it wasn’t as comforting.”
“Tiffany had taken a pass on eating. She was entertaining a couple of guys in the pool area. By entertaining, I mean asking silly questions they were dumb enough to try to answer.”
“I didn’t realize I was squeezing Tiffany’s and Bird’s hands until Bird said, “You know, bones break under pressure.”
“Mac didn’t know me the way Jason did. But he was my boyfriend. Wasn’t he?
But if he was, why had I spotted him giving Tiffany miniature golf pointers at Dad’s party? His arms wrapped around her, his hands on hers as they gripped the golf club. It was way too similar to our encounter at Dave and Bubba’s.
But what really bothered me was that I wasn’t upset. Shouldn’t I have been upset?
Put Tiffany in the front seat of the car with Jason, and I’d be trying not to go ballistic because she was that close to him.”
“We went outside and stood on the covered porch. It was raining again. Hard.
“Crap, I left the umbrella in the car,” he said. “Let me go get--”
“Don’t be silly. I won’t melt.”
“You sure?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Okay, then.”
He grabbed my hand--his was so warm, so large--and we made a mad dash across the puddle-filled parking lot. He had his keys out and was beeping the locks before we got there. We both jumped inside, through opposite doors, at the same time.
Laughing, drenched, and cold.
“I’ll get the heater going,” he said, cranking up the car.
“It’s June, in Texas.”
“I know, but I’m cold.”
“Wishing I had a towel, I used my fingers to wipe the raindrops off my face. My wet face that had been partially protected by the brim of his cap. Which would have worked if the rain fell straight down. This had been slashing across.
“Oh, no.”
“What?” Jason said.
“Turn on the light.”
He did. I lowered the sun visor, looked at my reflection in the mirror, groaned, and slapped the visor back into place. “Turn the light off.”
“What’s wrong?”
I didn’t look at him, didn’t want him to see. “The makeup ran.”
Not as badly as I’d expected, but I had dark smudges beneath my eyes and my bruising was more visible.
“So what?”
I leaned my head back. “I look worse than I did the night you met me.”
“I thought you looked fine.”
I rolled my head to the side, so I could see him. Hoping the shadows made it so he couldn’t see me. “What are you talking about? I looked like a Cirque de Soleil performer.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The black dots around my eyes?”
He shook his head. “I’m lost.”
“You were staring--”
“Oh, yeah.” He gazed through the windshield. “Sorry about that. I’ve just never seen eyes as green as yours. I was trying to figure out if you wore contacts.”
“You were looking at my eyes?”
“Yeah.”
“Not the makeup.”
He turned his attention back to me. “I didn’t realize you were wearing any. That night, anyway. Tonight it’s pretty obvious.”
“Oh.” Didn’t I feel silly? “I thought--” I shook my head. “Never mind.” On second thought…
“You don’t like all the makeup?”
“I just don’t think you need it. I mean, you look pretty without it.”
Oh, really? That was totally unexpected.
He started tapping the steering wheel like he was listening to a rock concert, or suddenly embarrassed, maybe wishing someone would shut him up. “Sorry I don’t have a towel in the car.”
Subject change. He was embarrassed. How cute was that?”
“I look worse than I did the night you met me.”
“I thought you looked fine.”
I rolled my head to the side, so I could see him. Hoping the shadows made it so he couldn’t see me. “What are you talking about? I looked like a Cirque de Soleil performer.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The black dots around my eyes?”
He shook his head. “I’m lost.”
“You were staring--”
“Oh, yeah.” He gazed through the windshield. “Sorry about that. I’ve just never seen eyes as green as yours. I was trying to figure out if you wore contacts.”
“You were looking at my eyes?”
“Yeah.”
“Not the makeup.”
He turned his attention back to me. “I didn’t realize you were wearing any. That night, anyway. Tonight it’s pretty obvious.”
“Oh.” Didn’t I feel silly? “I thought--” I shook my head. “Never mind.” On second thought…
“You don’t like all the makeup?”
“I just don’t think you need it. I mean, you look pretty without it.”
Oh, really? That was totally unexpected.”
“I didn’t realize you were wearing any. That night, anyway. Tonight it’s pretty obvious.”
“Oh.” Didn’t I feel silly? “I thought--” I shook my head. “Never mind.” On second thought…
“You don’t like all the makeup?”
“I just don’t think you need it. I mean, you look pretty without it.”
“Have you found it different having girls in the house?”
He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah.”
“Would you care to elaborate?”
“Nope.”
I looked up from my writing. “If you don’t elaborate, it’s going to be a very short article.”
“Look, I’ve already gotten into it once tonight--”
“Are you implying I’m hard to live with? Is that why you won’t comment further? Because you think I’ll be offended? I won’t be.”
“No further comment.”
I sighed, tempted to toss the recorder at him.
“Okay, then, we’ll move on. What’s been the most difficult aspect of living with us?”
There was silence, but it was the kind where you can sense someone wants to speak but doesn’t. Jason was so incredibly still, as though he was weighing consequences.
“Not kissing you,” he finally said, quietly.”
“Have you found it different having girls in the house?”
He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah.”
“Would you care to elaborate?”
“Nope.”
I looked up from my writing. “If you don’t elaborate, it’s going to be a very short article.”
“Look, I’ve already gotten into it once tonight--”
“Are you implying I’m hard to live with? Is that why you won’t comment further? Because you think I’ll be offended? I won’t be.”
“No further comment.”
I sighed, tempted to toss the recorder at him.
“Okay, then, we’ll move on. What’s been the most difficult aspect of living with us?”
There was silence, but it was the kind where you can sense someone wants to speak but doesn’t. Jason was so incredibly still, as though he was weighing consequences.
“Not kissing you,” he finally said, quietly.
My heart did this little stutter. I just stared at him as the recorder continued to run, searching for sound. My hand was shaking when I reached over and turned it off.
“But you did kiss me, and you said it was a mistake.”
“Because getting involved with you is a bad idea, on so many levels.”
“Care to share one of those levels?”
“I’m living in your house. Your parents are giving me a roof over my head. Your mom brings home extra takeout. I’m here only for the summer. Then I’m back at school.” He reached up, removed the ice pack from around his shoulder, and set it on the table. “And Mac? After we went to Dave and Bubba’s, he comes out to the mound and tells me he thinks you’re hot. And I know you like him, so I was willing to bunt.”
“Bunt?”
“Willing to sacrifice my happiness.”
“You thought you’d be happy being with me?”
“Are you kidding? You’re cute, easy to talk to. You love baseball. You make me smile, make me laugh. And we won’t even mention how much I liked kissing you.”
Only he had mentioned it. And now I was thinking about it when I really shouldn’t be.”
“You don’t like all the makeup?”
“I just don’t think you need it. I mean, you look pretty without it.”
Oh, really? That was totally unexpected.
He started tapping the steering wheel like he was listening to a rock concert, or suddenly embarrassed, maybe wishing someone would shut him up. “Sorry I don’t have a towel in the car.”
Subject change. He was embarrassed. How cute was that?
“That’s okay. We should probably get home, anyway, and we have plenty of towels there.”
“Right.”
He shifted into reverse and did that thing guys do where they twist their whole bodies and put their arm across the back of the seat. Only his car had bucket seats, and his fingers grazed my cheek and then jerked as though they’d been stung, before he grabbed the back of the headrest.
He was staring at me, really staring at me, and I wondered if he wanted his fingers to touch my cheek again, because I wanted them to. I wanted to feel that spark again, that little spark I felt every time he gave me the slightest accidental touch.
“Do you like Mac?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah,” I said really quickly, too quickly.
He nodded, looked over his shoulder, and backed out of the parking spot.
As we drove home, a heavy silence filled the car. I began to wonder if maybe he hadn’t really been asking if I liked Mac.
If maybe he’d been asking something completely different. Maybe he’d been asking if I liked him.”
“For the briefest of seconds, it was like he looked back into the stands, like maybe he spotted me, shaking my rattle, giving him all the encouragement I could. I could have sworn I saw a corner of his mouth curl up. Then he did the whole Velcro batting glove thing and stepped up to the plate.
The pitch came.
He swung.
Crack!
He hit it! He hit it! I jumped up and started shouting.
I had a second to see the stunned look on his face, like maybe he’d never hit the ball before, but that couldn’t be…
And then I realized what it was. As he started running, he turned his head, his gaze following the ball…
The ball that went out of the ballpark!
Right over the Backyard Mania billboard!
Home run!
My boyfriend had hit a home run!
I jumped around, pointing at the number on my jersey, hugging Bird, hugging Tiffany, watching Jason slapping his coach’s hand as he rounded third. I watched him cross home plate, wearing the biggest grin on his face.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Bird said.
“That we’re ahead two to nothing?”
“It means he’ll insist you sit in this exact spot for every game. He’ll think this is the good luck spot.”
“No way.”
“Either that, or he’ll ask you not to wash your underwear.”
“Ew! That’s so not happening. Maybe I can convince him it was wearing the jersey.”
Yeah, I thought. That’s the ticket.”
“For the briefest of seconds, it was like he looked back into the stands, like maybe he spotted me, shaking my rattle, giving him all the encouragement I could. I could have sworn I saw a corner of his mouth curl up. Then he did the whole Velcro batting glove thing and stepped up to the plate.
The pitch came.
He swung.
Crack!
He hit it! He hit it! I jumped up and started shouting.
I had a second to see the stunned look on his face, like maybe he’d never hit the ball before, but that couldn’t be…
And then I realized what it was. As he started running, he turned his head, his gaze following the ball…
The ball that went out of the ballpark!
Right over the Backyard Mania billboard!
Home run!
My boyfriend had hit a home run!”
“It’s actually entertaining.”
“You say that like you’re surprised.”
He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming eighteen-wheeler, and I realized I’d really put him on the spot. What could he say to that? Based on our numerous conversations, I was under the impression communication wasn’t your strong suit?
“Never mind,” I said, taking the steam kettle off the stove and filling it with water. I was a British-breakfast-tea-in-the-morning girl, and I made it using a real teapot and everything. “I’m not fishing for compliments.”
Okay, I was a little.
“I just…I just didn’t expect it to be so funny,” Jason said.
“You wanted a serious column about hot dogs?”
“She could feel the common blood song inside the place, the chorus of ancestors moving about in familiar constellations.”
“They stole from rich merchants and temples and kings. They didn't steal from poor people; this was not because there was anything virtuous about poor people, it was simply because poor people had no money.”
“You do not say no to the girl with the deities.”
“Our education might stop, if we so choose. Our brains’ never does. The brain will keep reacting to how we decide to use it. The difference is not whether or not we learn, but what and how we learn.”
“if he maintained that speed and went outside, the ship would appear to him as if it wasn’t moving at all since he would be moving at the same velocity. But going outside at a high velocity was risky. He’d expose himself to gamma radiation and the threat of micrometeoroids. Getting hit by a tiny rock particle would likely be fatal. Victor couldn’t take that risk. Not with so much at stake. It would”
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