Gerard's Way Of Love

My eyes widened. He knew, he knew that I was too young to be on this show. He was in front of the airport now, and was going to chuck me out the window. He was going to donate my clothes to charity, and when I got home, I would have disappointed Leslie, and my mom would be pissed at me for running away t a reality show. Him finding out was the worst thing that could happen, though.

“Y-y-y-you do?” my voice shook.

“Mmhmm,” his mouth was still next to my ear, “You love baseball.”

My heart rate went down. He found out my guilty pleasure, not my guilty secret.

“Yeah, I do, how’d you find out?”

“Myspace.”

“Oh, cool, so we’re going to a baseball game?”

“Better. We’re going to the batting cages!”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the limo, revealing an abandoned looking building. The only thing that told otherwise was the flashing sign that said “Open.”

“I rented it out, so we could do it together, without screaming fans.”

I nodded, and we went inside of the cool air-conditioned building. I saw the machine and let out a little squeal.

Gerard laughed, “Excited? Go ahead, grab a helmet and a bat. I’ll keep score.”

I did as he told me, and stood in the cage, bat in positon. The first ball came at me full force and I hit it. Soaring, it hit the net in the back of the building.

“Wow! Great job!” Gerard marveled.

I grinned, and hit another ball that was coming towards me.

Thirteen baseballs later, it was Gerard’s turn.

“Watch me whoop your leather butt!” he yelled at the baseball machine.

A ball shot towards him, and he dropped the bat and cowered away from the ball.

“Yeah, kick its ass Gerard!” I said sarcastically.

He looked at me, and gave me a mock angry look. This distraction from the baseball machine was a bad idea, for a baseball shot out, and hit him in the leg.

“Gerard!” I gasped, and ran up to him. He had fallen to the ground, gripping his leg.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow ow,” he groaned.

“Oh, stop, you big baby. I’ve been hit loads of times,” I lifted his pant leg, revelaing a large, baseball sized bruise.

“Ew” he said, crinkling his nose.
“That’s not too bad, you’ll live,” I looked at his face, looking for any signs of further pain. The pain in his face was gone, and in its place was a blank look, and I felt the same look cover my own face.

I leaned in and kissed him softly on his lips. I felt an electric shock, but ignored it. I moved my lips with his, then I pulled away. I didn’t want to get too involved with him. If I did, I was bound to win, whoich was bad, because I was 15 and he was 32.

“There, all better?” I asked, kissing him on the cheek.

“Much, much better,” He grinned.

“I guess we better get home. You need to rest your leg.”

He nodded and we left for home.