Emery's Story

Ch. 21

Even as I cross the field, I know that I shouldn't have come with Mark. Nixon will be waiting for me to call and I really want to see him tonight.
"Wait, Mark." I say, stopping. "My dad will leave without me, I wasn't thinking. I better go back." I say, looking back to our seats. I see my family starting to walk up the stairs.
"I'll give you a lift, its not a big deal."
"You still have interviews and all that crap. I'm going to go catch up with them. Thank you so much though, I'll cherish this forever." I smile, holding up the bat.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm not waiting all night for you. See you later. You had a good game, but savor the flavor it won't happen again." I tease.
He laughs. "Alright, see you later."
"Bye!" I yell, running back to the fence in font of our seats. I climb them and run up the stairs, trying to catch up to everyone. I try calling Amber a million times, but she doesn't answer and I know my mom doesn't let my dad take his phone with him when he's out with her. I call Harris, but it goes straight to voicemail.
I weave through the crowded stadium and finally get to the front gates. By the time I get to the parking lot and to where we parked, I realize they left. I take out my phone and call Mark, I guess I'll need that ride after all and I could have met my Tigers! Ah! My life is full of bad decisions. After the phone rings four times his voicemail picks up. I leave a message telling him I could use a ride, that they left without me. I wait ten minutes and he calls back.
"Hey." I answer.
"So, you got left behind and need a ride?"
"Yep, and I blame you."
"Me?" He asks, amused.
"Yes you! You dangled those Tigers in front of me and lured me with you. Its a hundred percent your fault."
"You know that's like saying fast food restaurants makes people fat. I didn't tell you to come with me it was your choice."
"Yeah, Yeah. You're so buying McDonald's after this." I add, now wanting some chicken nuggets.
He laughs. "I'll be out soon. Wait at the front and I'll pull around to get you."
"Alright, but hurry up I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry." He mutters, hanging up.
After eating only healthy with Nixon, apart from pizza the first night. I'm going to eat as much junk as I can when he's not around. I have to wait another twenty five minutes before I see Mark's, sleek black Porsche pull up in front of me. I get in careful not to ding the paint job with my baseball bat.
"Food!" I beg.
"We're going, relax." He replies, smiling. "Are your parent's still having the barbeque tomorrow?"
"Yeah, probably. Oh, shit! I wonder what Harris is going to make me wear?" I question, leaning my head back. I can only imagine what he'll think up.
"You bet against me?" he asks, in fake outrage. "You idiot! I always win, when your at the game." He, adds.
"I'm a loyal fan." I state.
"Well, I can't wait to see what he thinks up." Just then, his phone rings. He smiles and answers, "Yes, Harris?" He starts laughing and looks my way. "Definitely, I'd love to see her in my uniform."
"Oh, hell no! I'm not wearing that horrible thing!"
"I believe you are, payback's a bitch." He replies, winking at me and laughing.
"He's going to get it real bad next time." I threaten.
"Did you hear her?" he asks. "Alright, talk to you later." He says, hanging up and pulling into McDonalds. "You're not eating in my car." He states, as he parks.
"Why?" I ask, faking innocence.
"Don't you remember the last time?"
"Fine." I say, laughing remembering the last time I ate in his car. I had gotten taco bell and ate about half of my order when we got home. I accidentally left the bag in the car and when Mark went to drive the car a couple weeks later, I guess it smelled really bad. He still hasn't forgiven me. We walk into the building and stand in line. I can see people start to whisper and I know they recognize Mark. So, I stand in front of him like I don't know him.
He starts chuckling, "Don't even think about it." He warns.
I turn to him. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't know you." I state, quietly looking around. I turn back and Mark puts his arm around me.
"That's not what you said last night, love muffin."
"I'll show you love muffin." I glare at him.
"You're going to show me your muffin?" he replies, smirking.
"In your dreams, prev. Now, get off me! Those girls are taking pictures." I say, trying to shrug his arm off my shoulder, but it doesn't budge. I huff and cross my arms waiting for our turn to order. This so wasn't a good idea. Finally, it's our turn and I order a chicken nugget meal with sweet and sour sauce and he orders the same. This is probably the only this Mark and I have in common, we both love McDonald's chicken nuggets.
I fill the soda cups, mine with coke and Mark's with sweet tea, his favorite. Mark grabs the tray and walks to the back of the sitting area, away from all the other customers.
We just start eating when my phone rings. I dig it out of my back pocket and see that it's Nixon. "Hello." I answer.
"Why didn't you come back with everyone else?" he asks, confused
"Oh, they left me"
"Why would they leave you? and where are you now?" He questions.
"Because I was going to go meet some players, but I remembered you we're waiting for me and I ran after them. I didn't get to the parking lot on time and no one was answering their phones, so they left. Then I had to wait for Mark the sloth Pillar to get a ride back."
"So, you'll be back soon?"
"Well, I was hungry." I answer, guilty.
"You're always hungry." He replies.
"I am not always hungry!" I yell, and Mark starts laughing. I throw a fry at him. "You just always feed me healthy crap. So, when your not around I have to bindge on all this yummy food."
"Where are you?" He asks, not amused.
"McDonald's." I say, happily.
"Well, hurry up. I'm at your house and queen bitch is making me wait outside."
"She is? I'll call her." I reply, irritated.
"Don't worry about it. I don't really want to be around her anyway."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, see you soon."
"Yep, bye." I say, hanging up.
"Is he mad your with me?" Mark asks.
"No, he's mad that Amber is making him wait outside for me to get back."
"She really needs to drop it. I'll talk to her again." Mark offers, looking guilty.
"Thanks, she won't listen to me."
"I've noticed. She told me what she did the other night. Telling Nixon that you needed more time to get ready. I swear I didn't even know he was there." I can see he's telling the truth.
"I didn't think you'd be apart of it. I know you better then that."
"I know. I just wanted you to hear it from me."
"Well, thank you."
"Do you love him?" he asks, calmly.
"I don't know. Maybe? I like being with him, I definitely like him."
"I understand." He nods, eating again.
We finish and walk back to his car. He opens the door for me and I get in. He walks around and slides in, starting the car. "Are you cold?"
"A little." I answer.
He turns on the heat and fastens his seat belt. "I'm in love with you." He confesses, suddenly. "I want you to be happy. If your happy with him," he closes his eyes. "Then, that's all I need to know. I won't fight for you or make you feel bad about not loving me back. I'll try to move on with my life. I just had to say, that. I won't do it again." He states, opening his eyes and looking into mine.
I see his hurt and his pain. I've never hated myself more. How could I have been so blind to his feelings for me. Looking at him now, it's so obvious. Every look, every touch has meant something to him. I can see it all and I don't know what to do or say about it.
He looks away and reverses the car, pull out into traffic. I feel my heart still pounding. The things uncle Alex said to me is hitting home now more then ever. It's different hearing it from Mark. After about twenty minutes of silence Mark asks, "You're going to be weird about it now, huh?"
"I just don't know what to think about it all." I admit, honestly.
"Just stop thinking about it. That should be easy for you, you've never been good at it anyway." He states, smirking.
I punch his arm. "This coming from the dumb jock."
"This coming from the girl who thought feminine products was toilet paper. Or that Mary And Joseph was one name, Mary Ann Joseph." He replies, laughing.
I laugh with him reminiscing about my childhood "blonde" moments. "Oh, you want to go there? How about when you thought you could drive to Hawaii? Or that California was the whole United states."
"I was seven!" He says, defensively.
"How about the time you thought the Last Supper was when the pilgrims ate dinner with the Indians! Wait, wait. How about the time you told the whole class you were going to tampon Florida for vacation." I say, and we both start laughing hysterically.
We finally calm down and I wipe at the tears running down my face. "Okay, I officially laughed too hard." I admit, rubbing my side's.
He smirks, pulling into my drive way.
"Thanks, for everything." I say, opening the door.
"You're welcome."
"See you tomorrow?"
"Yep, see you tomorrow in the green collar." Which we call the A's uniform. I roll my eyes and shut the door. I see Nixon sitting on the porch. I smile as I walk toward him.
"It's about time." He says, looking a little irritated.
"I told you where I was."
"I thought you were at a closer McDonald's, not an hour away."
"Sorry."
"Why do you have a baseball bat?"
"Mark got Miguel Cabrera to sign it for me!" I reply, excitedly.
"That was nice of him." He mutters.
"Yeah, it was." I agree.
"Why is up your face so flushed?" he asks, all of a sudden suspicious.
"From laughing." I reply. I can tell he's trying to find a hint of a lie.
"What were you laughing about?"
"Jeeze, Nixon. We were making fun of each other, okay."
"I don't want you hanging out with him."
I look at him shocked, "Are you crazy?"
"No."
"I think you might be, I can hangout with whoever I want." I state.
"I'm thinking you need another reminder of who you belong to." He says, coming closer. He takes the bat from me and sets it on the porch.
"Nixon, stop. I think you should go." I reply, backing up.
"I'm going and you're coming with me." He says, his hand closing over my arm. He tugs me to his truck and I try pulling away.
"Nixon! Stop. Your hurting me." I point out, still struggling.
"You don't know what pain is. Now, get in the truck."
"I'm not going with you." I state, stubbornly.
He picks me up and puts me in the seat and slams the door. I wait until he's at his door, before I get out and run into the house. I slam the door and lock it.