Chapter 9
I had been saved by Baseball Boy's TV viewing invitation by an asshole.
His name was James Taylor. I was pretty much an expert on James Taylor. Not the jackass standing before me, but the folk singer. My father loved James Taylor, the singer. So much in fact that I had a pretty good idea that if James Taylor, the singer came knocking at the door my police chief father would marry him.
This James Taylor, however, my dad would throw into the slammer. You got a friend in this asshole? Definitely not. Baseball Boy was seeing this first hand.
"Where's that hot little piece of ass sister of yours, Cullen?"
James Taylor needed his ass kicked.
"Aww, man, don't say that kind of stuff!"
"What are you going to do about it, Cullen?" He was handsome, but he had a weird nose. He had a James Spader complex.
I had enough. "James Taylor, go sing your folk music somewhere else. The kid and I are heading out."
The jerk looked me from top to bottom. It made me feel dirty. "Why are you hanging out with the hobo?"
Baseball Boy got in his face. "Don't you dare say anything about my girlfriend!"
What?
James Taylor pushed the kid to the ground. "You might be team captain, but that's only because of your batting average. Don't forget who's boss!"
I don't know what came over me, but seeing the kid in the grass made me feel...well...bad. I punched James Taylor in eye.
"What the fuck?" He cried.
Coach Clapp lumbered over. He was a few days away from a coronary. He probably would be well served to exercise with the team.
"Miss Swan, what did you do to my star pitcher? I can give you detention for this!" He had to bend down to catch his breath.
"I wonder what my father would say when I tell him James Taylor was going to squeeze my breast? He is the chief of police after all."
Coach Clapp looked upset. He grabbed James Taylor's shirt and dragged him towards the gymnasium. "Taylor, we need a chat."
"Come on, Baseball Boy. You can walk me to my truck."