I Probably Wouldn't Be This Way
Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine and putting these disclaimers will never help make it mine either.
Smiling, I took my position in short stop. I was possibly the only person that could cover all of the required area for shortstop which was everywhere from third to second base as well as two feet in front of the base line all the way to the grass. I enjoyed the challenge and the dry smell of the dirt on the practice field.
James stepped up to the plate. He and I were always the lead of batters. By the wink that he had given me, it was plain to see that he was busting one my way. Oh what a mistake that would be!
The pitcher, Vince Varner, wound up his arm and chucked it towards Zach Steven's, the hind catcher. There was no crack and I waited for Coach Tyson's call.
"Strike!" he yelled, getting into the spirit of the game a little too much.
I rolled my eyes. James always had to make a big deal out of his big hits. Well, not today. Yes, I was his oh so loving girlfriend but I also had a competitive streak that just wouldn't die. I didn't really care about losing the game, more about losing to James, Newton, and Mallory than anything.
Vince threw another ball as fast as he could and once again I heard the coach call, "Strike!"
I zoned out for a second, not really thinking about anything.
Just in time, I noticed that Vince was winding up again. I crouched, ready to spring in any given direction, depending on which way he directed his hit. I silently prayed to God that he wouldn't hit it just over my head.
The pitcher threw, yet another one of his infamous pitches and I got ready for it. Here it comes… I braced myself for the distinct sound of the bat hitting the baseball. That would be my signal to go after the ball with all my might.
Of course, I did hear the sound that sounded weirdly similar to a whip and found myself switching to autopilot. I dove backwards and too my left, snatching the ball, not wasting any time to prop myself up on a knee and throw the ball to first base. The base was tagged by Sean and we now waited the coach's decision.
For once, I found coach's voice annoying when he called out, "Safe!" It was completely obvious that he was out, wasn't it? It had so clearly reached first on his last leap! I would just need to do something to change all of that.
I itched the left side of my face which signaled a new play that James just couldn't resist. It was a challenge, and just like me, James liked a challenge. I went back to my position and I noticed that Jim Stanley was smiling next to me. He knew this play, even if James didn't.
Sean threw the ball towards the pitcher but it was slightly higher than a normal throw, causing the pitcher to 'miss' it. I could see James out of the corner of my eye, falling for the bait so completely oblivious to what was about to happen. He thought that he was so… lucky.
Running as fast as I could towards my target, I imagined James doing the same, but I was too focused on the base and the ball. Jim picked up the ball and with all his strength, threw the ball my way. It practically burned a hole in my glove but I held on tight, vaguely aware of the extreme pain of my middle finger. As quickly as I could, I bent down and tagged James as he attempted to slide into the base.
His cleat met with what I now realized was an injured hand and I released a resisted a groan. The coach walked over to the scene of what I must say, was a great play. Clicking his tongue he pointed towards the two inches between James's foot and the base. Smiling in triumph at James I let my own personal victory sink in.
However, when I stood up, I realized that without the adrenalin rush and the distraction of a play, I could feel how badly my hand was hurt. The throbbing gave it away right away. With each beat of my heart, my hand pounded, only making the pain worsen.
"Uhg," I gusted out, removing my glove with a grunt.
"Are you alright?" James worried and the coach rushed over to look at my hand.
The older of the two men touched it gingerly, "Can you move it.
I tried but, let out a long hiss as I tried to constrict my hand with no avail.
"Take her to the nurse office, James." The coach ordered.
(A/N: Okay, so I have not updated in a while. I'm sorry? I just didn't want to write while I had writers block totally and completely. Please forgive me?)