Author's note: Hello friends! It's been so long and I am so excited to share this new work with you. After being uninspired for a while, I got the idea to write this because I was going through old boxes and I found my old softball bat and I became a sentimental little bitch. So naturally, I decided to take that organic moment and use it to make a fanfiction about lesbians. Anyway, it'll take me a chapter or two to kinda warm up and kick into high gear and I'll most likely go back and revamp it later on. So just give me a little time I know it's not too flawless But for now, start with this. I may not have time to update as often as I would like, but I will try to do it. So I hope you enjoy it! Love you, ~S
Also! I uploaded my other fic Coffee and Other Forms of Poison to Inkkit for a fandom contest to it would be super rad if you could vote for it. Link in my bio. So yeah. Bam.
Chapter one
"Fuck." The word hissed between her gleaming teeth as it went up in the cold air along with her breath. She slapped her leather glove hard against her already bruised thigh. Half bruised from timing her earlier pitches, half from frustration. She wiped a cold bead of sweat from her forehead and clenched her ungloved fist to bottle up any more profanities. Heat was building up inside her and the catcher across the way felt it radiating off of her, despite their distance. And because she felt it, the catcher peeled off her mask and started to untangle the Velcro from her wild auburn hair.
"Come on, Alex. It wasn't that bad." She winced as she ripped the harsh material from her hair. "And plus you can't curse too loud right now we'll get caught."
Alex rolled her eyes at that.
It wasn't too late. Eight or Nine at most. But it was far too late for two girls at the tender age of twelve to be out alone. Not that their parents would care, but they knew there'd be some parent or authority who'd be more than willing to ruin their post-practice pitching party.
And pedophiles.
There was that problem too.
"I didn't snap my wrist and my release was too late. Something I could've fixed." Alex yanked her sweaty hand out of her humid glove and let it feel the shock of icy air.The wild-haired girl sighed and pulled her hand out of her own glove, stretching and curling her achy fingers and shaking the kinks out of her wrist.
"You're acting like a baby. It's way past practice, you pitched for an hour before, and they were change ups, might I add, your shoulder probably hates you-"
She was right. Her delts was screaming at her. Completely dull with knots yet completely enraged from strain. Alex's warm hand immediately went to massage it when her friend said those words.
"-And also you're still mad at coach for not putting you in."
Alex furrowed her brow at that at that.
"No I'm not."
"Hm."
"I'm not!" Alex let out a huff of leftover anger from last week. She tore out her ponytail from her chestnut shaded hair, not caring about the strands that came out with it. It wasn't like she was a being a brat about it. She had every right to feel the weight of all the frustration and confusion combined from what happened that dreaded day. She was the best on the team. Simple as that. And everyone knew it. For twelve years old, she could wipe the floor with the JV baseball team of the high school down the street. So when Coach didn't put her in, no one had a clue what was going on in her head. When the team read the lineup and Alex wasn't on the mound, the whole dugout fell silent. Eyes bounced around to find each other in confusion and the whole game, not a single word escaped into the air. The outfield was dead. Nicky didn't catch anything. And Alex was on the verge of tears at First.
The half-armored catcher smiled softly, pushing back her mane of hair behind her ears and walked over to Alex, who was massaging her angered shoulder and pacing around in aimless circles.
"You're not a brat, Vause. Fuck the lineup. You're the best and you know it." Alex failed to suppress her smile.
"Thanks, Nicky."
Nicky laughed when she saw that smile creep across her friend's thin cheeks.
"There she is!" She poked her stomach and the pitcher recoiled, whining but smiling brighter than before. "Now do one more and then we'll call it a night."
Nicky shuffled back over to her spot in front of the fence, her shin guards clunking in her steps and she pulled her glove back over her hand. Alex did the same as she cracked her knuckles against her hip. The catcher lobbed the bright yellow ball to her and she caught it with ease. Alex's freed and sweat-laden hair blew along with the gust of gentle wind that settled over them for a moment.
Nicky squatted back behind their make-shift batter's box, putting up her glove for the pitcher to see.
Alex closed her fire-filled eyes and found her grip on the laces. Then she opened them and saw the batter and the blue collared ump. Just waiting for what she had to give.
She inhaled a slow, cool breath and let it out slower through her mouth, allowing a chilled drop of sweat to surge down from her forehead to her neck.
She took a moment to remember everything. To snap her wrist. To explode forward. To follow through.
And then she took a moment to forget it all.
She loaded back on her leg, the catcher's senses heightening even more than before.
She slapped her thigh for timing.
And then she let it fly.
/
The ball went straight to the pocket of Nicky's glove, dust arising from the leather from the harsh impact.
Alex's forested eyes were still dark from the moment of raw concentration her friend's almond ones mirrored the tint.
The fiery haired coach stood next to Nicky, speedometer in hand. She inched her thin glasses further up her nose and then brought her iron eyes to Alex.
They remained in eye contact for a chilling moment before the Russian woman released her red lips into a subtle smirk.
"Sixty-five."
Nicky's jaw dropped and her eyes instantly freed themselves from all seriousness. She let out a howl of excitement as Alex smiled in doubt.
"No. No way you're fucking with me ." Alex trotted over to the coach who was smiling too and rolling her eyes back into her lids.
"Language. And why would I lie about something like that?" Her thick accent chided as the tall brunette peered over her shoulder.
Alex's eyes kindled her pale cheeks as she laughed in even more disbelief. At seventeen years old, she sported jet black locks and she'd grown about a foot and a half. And her arm certainly matured along with her height and hairstyle decisions. After years of working out the kinks in her game and pitch, she held a permanent spot as first in the lineup and first on the mound in every game. Thus causing chronic numbness in her right shoulder and an abnormally knot-laden (yet muscular) back. She and Nicky would sneak in the school on the weekends to use the weight room, (which they knew was definitely illegal) and then they'd steal ice bags from the grocery store and use them for baths (which they also were aware, was illegal.) She knew all this softball madness would take her somewhere. From the moment she first swung off a tee at nine with the neighborhood boys. All the late night post-pitching parties, playing catch outside, batting practice, bruises, injuries, bone-chilling baths, and minor felonies would take her somewhere eventually. And so far it's taken her to sixty-five miles an hour and a crazy batting average of .446.
Or even college.
Holy shit.
The thought of playing college ball was more than fucking insane to her.
She imagined the look on her mother's face when she would hold the sacred letter in her hands. The tears that would stream down her face as she signed her full name on the contract. The pride that would settle deep into her bones when she'd put on the jersey. To finally make that transition from Litchfield Lion to whoever the hell she'd represent. It all would seem unreal.
But with sixty-five miles and hour,
it could happen.
Nicky stood up to join her, nudging her toned shoulder to substitute a "congratulations."
"Good work, Vause." Red smacked Alex's side to send her back to the dugout.
"Thanks, Red." The pitcher called back as she trotted off.
"Hey, what about me? I caught that thing and Jesus fuck, did it hurt!" Nicky protested and she shook out her hand.
Red smiled down at the fiery girl. A smile spread across her wise cheeks and she rubbed Nicky's shoulder.
"You did good, Nicky."
Nicky smiled back, almost coyly.
"Thanks."
And she scampered off.
/
"What?! Nah nah that's not happenin'. You talkin' bullshit." Taystee rolled her brown eyes as she took a long sip of Gatorade. She wiped the sugary blueness from the corner of her lip with her ebony hand and continued to shake her head.
"No, I promise that's what I heard!" The skinnier, lighter-skinned girl protested. A far larger girl in the opposite corner let out a short, obnoxious laugh.
"Poussey, you trippin'. Ain't nobody joinin' this team. We maxed out."
Poussey ran a palm over her wooly head as the two girls continued to laugh and shout over each other.
"Hey, don't laugh." A small New York accent piped from the floor as she polished the barrel her pink-decaled Easton. "I mean sure, another team member seems a bit unlikely, but it could happen."
"Morello, you so gentle. You know this clown's pullin' ya leg." Taystee pushed Poussey's cheek and continued to laugh.
Morello shrugged her petite shoulders at an outnumbered Poussey, who looked to her for backup.
Alex strode in the dugout just in time.
"What's happening?" She asked coolly as she set her glove in her cubby and fished out a water bottle from her beaten duffle.
The four of them began speaking all at once and all sides of the story overwhelmed the echoey walls. Nicky followed in behind Alex, perplexity plaguing her dusty face.
"What's uh.."
"I don't know."
Nicky sighed as she walked over to her bag next to Alex's and grabbed her bat from inside. She flipped the barrel over and caught it again at the grips with ease. And with a few sharp whacks against a bucket, the dugout went quiet.
"Okay, thank you. Now can someone please explain calmly what's happening."
With complete disregard to Nicky's proposal, the three stooges began telling their side of what happened as Morello sat quietly and raised her hand.
"Thank you, Morello, for being a good model of what should have happened." Nicky brought her annoyed glare to the three girls, who rolled their eyes quietly.
"Thank you, Nicky, for calling on me." Morello turned to the girls behind her. "Cindy, Taystee, Poussey, you're welcome to place your input after I'm finished."
"Thank you, Morello, for including us." Cindy pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side, Taystee mirroring her action.
Alex had to bite back her amusement as she sat down on top of the bench.
"Well," the small girl began, "Poussey here claimed that she heard Red talking to a guy a couple of days ago saying that there's gonna be a new girl."
"Because it's true-" Poussey tried to tag on, but was promptly shushed by Nicky.
"And then, Cindy and Taystee didn't believe her and were laughing and all. And now you're here." Morello ended her story with a smile and a sweet head tilt.
It wasn't long before Alex noticed Nicky staring at the other girl's rosy lips as she licked her own, completely hypnotized.
She hadn't listened to a thing.
So, Alex stepped in.
"Okay so comments." Taystee's hand shot up and Alex nodded her approval.
"We all know that Poussey is messin' because we already have a team and we killin' it as is. So why would Red bring in another girl?" Cindy popped her tongue in agreement.
"Excellent point." Alex called on Poussey.
"Yeah, but I saw her with my own two eyes. They were talking serious shit like forreal."
The clamor arose again and Alex resigned as conversation leader.
Until Red joined in.
"And you're right. I am bringing in another girl. She starts next week." Red brought her glasses to the crown of her crimson head and clicked her pen closed.
The whole dugout hung in dead air.
A whole mix of disbelief, disdain, confusion, anger and a mess of other unnamed emotions began to pump through the team's veins.
Cindy and Poussey looked at each other in disbelief and Morello stopped her bat polishing.
"Wait what?" Alex whipped her head around to look back at Nicky, who was also beyond bewilderment. "Why?"
"That's none of your business. This is my ship. I decide what's best."
"But that's not-" Nicky started, but backed away with her tail between her legs at Red's stony glare.
"Finish up around here. Batting drills off the machine are next."
No one moved.
Everyone was still.
"Well, hurry up! Time is money!" Red's voice startled everyone back into a hazy reality. Everyone moved with haste and purpose, making their way out to the clay. But no one let out a murmur. No one dared cough or sneeze or even swallow.
They all were too sick with frustration.
And Red knew.
/
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