Just What I Needed

July 5 (Early Afternoon)

"Have you told your dad yet about signing up for the Regionals?" Nate asked as we were walking to the ballpark.

"No, considering we have only just started to patch things up like, literally a few hours ago, I don't really know how to broach the subject with him..." I looked down at my feet.

"How about, 'Hey dad, I signed up for Regionals.'?"

I looked up at Nate blankly.

Again, with that crooked smile.

"I'll tell him if you don't," he nudged my arm.

The butterflies I had felt in my stomach at the hospital yesterday when he was holding me immediately returned. I wanted to flirt back but I had spent so long being angry and pushing people away that I had started overthinking instead of reacting. My brain and my body were not working together.

"Just hang out right here. I'll be right back," Nate's voice invaded my thoughts. He motioned to one of the nearby bleachers.

I nodded and sat down to watch the players already on the field, going through warm up drills. I recognized two of the players from the beach a few weeks prior. Nate jogged over to one of the coaches and gave him a clap on the back. I could see them talking about his bandaged hand. One of the team trainers came jogging over and joined the conversation. Nate motioned to his rib cage. The trainer had Nate remove his shirt.

A group of townie girls sat a few rows up from me and I heard them squeal and giggle in excitement as Nate exposed his chest on the field. They were huddled close together, fawning over him, snapping photos of him with their phones.

From here, I could see the bruise near his ribcage from where the line drive hit him last week, dark purple. The guy sure had taken a beating in the last few days.

The trainer and coach were examining him, and I could see Nate nodding or shaking his head in response to their questions.

Nate put his shirt back on and started walking back toward me.

The girls who had been giggling behind me became increasingly excitable as Nate approached the bleachers. One girl from the group looked like she was working up the courage to approach him when he reached me first.

I motioned to him to look behind me as one of the girls stepped forward. I could tell she was younger than me by a year or two, with a slight build and long silky straight blonde hair. Despite being a little nervous, she looked like she was otherwise a very confident girl. Freckles dotted the apples of her cheeks and her eyeliner wings were subtle but on point.

"Excuse me? Nathan?" she asked, her voice nervous and slightly shaky.

"Yeah," he turned his eyes toward her.

"I'm C-Cresida."

"Nice to meet you C-Cresida," he responded. No matter who he was speaking with, he had the same easy-going, confident tone and jovial manner.

The girls in the group giggled.

"Um, do you have a date to the end of the summer party? I mean... the town has this end of summer party that everyone goes to and I... I was wondering if..."

I looked off in the direction of the outfield, kicking myself for not asking him myself. I felt really awkward sitting in the middle of this conversation.

"Thanks, Cresida. That's really very sweet of you and it's nice to meet you but," I couldn't see his face but I could hear that crooked smile. "I don't think I'll be in town for the end of summer party, unfortunately."

Cresida's face fell and I'm sure I felt mine fall too.

So that was it. His coaches must not have cleared him to play the rest of the season. I guess I could understand given his injuries and with less than a month until the end of the season but hearing him say he wasn't going to be here out loud made those butterflies in my stomach turn into a rock hard pit.