A Hater's Gamble (BxB)

FORTY-SIX

"I don't want to go alone."

M I L E S

I was sat in the front row, right where I had promised Liam. It was February. Only a chill breeze swept the stands, there was no rain. My golden boy appeared to be talking to his starting pitcher on the pitchers' mound. He was a freshman, but he had as good an arm as any of his elders.

The starting pitcher looked to Liam in determination. "Yes, Captain," I saw the boy say.

Liam gave him a pat on the back, then went to his place on second base. It was a Raptors and Eagles game—the last game, which meant that the stands were packed. Liam's eyes found me easily in the front row, and he winked with charm. Right where I can see you, his look said.

Maddie squealed excitedly.

"Stop that," I whispered, trying to fight the oncoming blush that warmed my face.

She rolled her eyes, "You're no fun."

I looked to third base and saw Diego. He had gotten thinner, and his usual spunk was missing. His eyes were colder, there wasn't any fire to his stance anymore, but he looked as focused as ever when Jensen went up to bat.

Maddie caught me staring, and she gave my hand a quick squeeze.

Jensen sent Liam a cold stare, but Liam wasn't looking at him. This game wasn't about little rivalries, not to Liam. It was about victory.

When Jensen swung his bat, it went over the pitcher's head, but Liam was quick to jump and catch the ball in his glove. A flawless way to strike Jensen out.

The crowd cheered, and so did I, even if I still felt a terrible lump in my throat. There was a vacant seat beside me, one that I refused to let anyone occupy.

The game went on. Groans when the Eagles would score, and a whole lot of ruckus when the Raptors would make home-runs.

The score favored the Raptors immensely. Five trailing eleven. Jake never stood a chance, not against a victory-driven Liam. The hazel-eyed boy might've acknowledged this very notion in the eighth inning, because he swung at none of the balls pitched his way.

Even as the Eagles fans shouted insults at him, he made no move to pick a fight. With anyone. He hung his head low, and sank into the dug-out. Diego watched him go, and something reflected in his eyes. Pity? Mirrorage?

Diego looked to me, and just when I thought he'd look away, he gave a smile. Reserved and quiet, but it was still there. My spine chilled, because it looked exactly like Grace's.

Roars of cheers filled the baseball stands as the final pitch was thrown.

A win for the Raptors.

Diego simply took off his glove and disappeared into the Raptor's dug-out. To the locker room. The rest of the team cheered on the field—except Liam. He was looking straight at me, a sparkle in his eyes. Sweat-matted hair and a dirty uniform.

I looked to Maddie, and she nudged me along. I hopped the little divider that separated the stands from the field and ran. Straight into Liam's arms.

"You fulfilled your promise to me," I said. "You beat them."

"I did?," he asked with a smirk. "I didn't notice. I was staring at a really handsome boy all night."

I gave a little laugh. He placed a kiss to my cheek, then said, "Ready?"

"For what?," I asked, examining his dirt-flecked face.

"For the rest of our lives," he responded, hands pulling me closer to him.

"I used to think I wasn't," I admitted, noticing that the crowd hadn't halted its triumphant cheering. "But I am now."