Throwing Like A Girl

Changed into a pair of sweat-capris and my jersey, I sat in the same spot I’d been in when we went out to eat after the last game. Coach was playing news radio for traffic updates, so everyone was listening to iPods. We’d already stopped for lunch at Taco Bell and were, according to Jordan, nearly there. I was curled up on my seat, elbow hanging over the back of the bench and legs folded up under me while music played softly in my ears and I read Keeping the Moon for the millionth time. The bumping of the van as it drove along made reading a little difficult, but I knew the story well enough that I could probably repeat most of it in my sleep.

“’Keeping the Moon.’ I didn’t peg you as a romance novel-reader, Throckmorton,” Jesse said, flicking my elbow, which was maybe a foot from his chest.

I jabbed at him with my elbow. “Romance isn’t in this book till the very end,” I told him.

“Then what’s it about?” he asked.

Jordan turned the book in my hand so he could read the back. “’Fifteen-year-old Colie never fit in. First, it was because she was fat. Then, after she lost the weight, it was because of a reputation she didn't deserve.’ You actually read this crap, Bree?”

“The description makes it sound worse than it is. It really is a good book,” I said, glancing at what page I was on before closing the book.

“Whatever you say,” Jesse snorted.

“It’s a girl thing, I guess,” Mark said. “I see Avery with one of those all the freaking time.”

That was surprising. Avery didn’t seem very bookish to me.

A few moments later, the van stopped. “We’re here, guys.”

We won easily. Underwood was a team made up mostly of freshmen who obviously had no experience playing baseball whatsoever, with some decidedly un-athletic upperclassmen who were likely playing for P.E. credits. Evan struck most of them out, and their few hits stayed in the infield. I felt bad for the guys in the outfield—they did pretty much nothing for the entire time we played defense. When we were up to bat, nearly all of us were walked multiple times before the umps put the mercy rule into effect.

Now Jordan, Jesse, Mark, Evan, Damien, and I were squished into a booth meant for four at Round Table, nursing the last bits of our sodas and gnawing on the remaining crusts of our shared pizza. I was squished between Jesse and Jordan, and they were pretty much the things holding me up. I was dead tired, which was odd since we won without really even trying.

“Sleepy?” Jesse asked me when I yawned.

“Dopey?” I shot back, taking another sip of my Dr Pepper in an attempt to perk myself up.

Jordan snorted, making me smirk. I leaned more toward him and yawned again as Mark and Damien started talking about the Lakers—from what I could hear, there was a special about them on the TV behind me.

I was pretty much lost as they threw around names and stats, arguing who was better at everything. Jesse, Evan, and even Jordan joined in on the debate. The discussion went on until Coach stood up from across the restaurant and beckoned toward the six of us to leave.

“I got it, you guys,” Jesse said, tossing down some money to cover the pizza and our drinks.

We all uttered a “thanks” and slid out of the booth, hurrying to catch up with Coach and everyone else. I blinked rapidly as we left the restaurant, my eyes burning from being so tired. Another yawn escaped my lips as we got to the van.

“Hey, do you want the window so you can sleep?” Evan asked me as we waited for Coach to unlock the door.

“Sure,” I said, a little surprised. He’d been pretty quiet, which I was beginning to take as normal from him, and I certainly didn’t expect him to offer me his seat. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he replied. “When I was a frosh, I got stuck in this damn seat.” We were climbing in now, and he tapped the seat I’d been sitting in earlier as we passed it. “After this really intense game, all I wanted to do was sleep, but it was pretty much impossible. Last year I claimed the window as mine at the beginning of the season, and it’s been mine ever since. It’s the best sleep seat in the whole van.”

I plopped down in what was apparently Evan’s seat. “This is the best seat to sleep?” I asked incredulously.

He nodded as Emmett sat down in front of me. “It’s the furthest back from the radio and the speaker on this side is broken. Pain in the ass when we play any good music, but good when you want to sleep. And the window can be a pretty good pillow once you get used to it.” Evan gave me a half-smile. “Try it. If you don’t like it, you can just chill without worrying about falling off the seat. It’s a win-win situation.”

I smiled back, realizing in the back of my mind that this was probably the most I’d ever heard him talk at one time. “You’ve got a point.”

“Gonna try and sleep, Bree?” Jordan asked as he settled in next to Emmett.

I nodded as Jesse clambered into the van and noticed the difference in the seating arrangement. “Stickin’ me with the crappy seat, huh?” he asked, his voice playful with a hint of annoyance—or was it hurt?

“Sorry, Jess,” I said, suppressing yet another yawn. “But Evan says this is the best sleep seat, and I’m freaking tired.”

“It’s cool,” he assured me. The dome light went out as Carter closed the door and we were quickly speeding back toward school.

I pulled out my iPod even though Mark had taken control of the radio and plugged his own iPod into it; he was playing a song completely unfamiliar to me and I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep listening to loud and unfamiliar songs. Instead, I put on Colbie Caillat’s calming voice and leaned my head on the window like Evan suggested.

I was asleep before the second song was over.

“Bree?”

Evan’s voice brought me back to consciousness. The dome light of the van was on, and seemed super-bright to me. The guys were getting up and out, making the van lean this way and that with the weight shifts. I sat up straight, only vaguely noticing that I’d shifted a bit in my sleep. I made some sort of questioning noise, along the lines of a “hmm?”

“We’re back at school,” Evan explained, starting to climb out of the van.

“Oh,” I replied, and followed him out and around to the back door of the van to get my bag before heading back to my dorm. I practically sleepwalked to my room, quietly opening and closing the door behind me. Allie was dead asleep—it was just past eleven—so I just took off my sweatshirt and crawled into bed. I was almost asleep again when I turned my head on my pillow and sat straight up, realizing how I had shifted in my sleep in the van. Instead of leaning on the window, I’d been leaning on Evan’s shoulder.