Batters up

Chapter 4

*Peyton's pov*

"What do you mean you can't do this?" I huffed. The balls of this prick were enormous, how could he kiss me then say he can't do it.

I left his house that Saturday morning to say the least, pissed as hell, I walked back to my house in the rain at 7 am. My blood boiled at the sheer thought of him, that little prick kissed me. I'm not a toy I'm a human and he needed to treat me as such.

Why does such an indisputable person exist? Who would ever want that?

Me, me. I want him.

That thought wasn't even in my vocabulary, like why would you kiss a girl then demand she leaves? I don't get it.

Love, it's love. You don't get love, love makes you dumb and it makes you unaware.

But he had no excuses, he was supposed to be the pro at everything.

But everyone has fuck ups, everyone, give the kid a break.

Why I was having this conversation with myself for the last 10 minutes I'll never know, why I felt hurt as hell when the kid rejected me I'd know but wouldn't want to admit.

You my friend are in love with a baseball player.

Maybe I was just in love with the fact that he played baseball, or how his hair perfectly fell across his face, or his dimples damn those dimples.

Snap out of it you aren't in love. Besides he'd never love a girl like you.

I got up that next morning feeling a strong urge to make him jealous, so I threw my lipgloss on, straightened my hair and a little bit of makeup and boom a bomb ass chick was created.

I grabbed my little fruitloops from the bantry and my milk, and ate it while scrolling through instagram. After an intense stalking of His moms brothers dad sister I decided to stop my search almost accidentally following one of them.

You stalker!

In my defense, there's no good way to look at it now is there.

I grabbed my bag for baseball because I still had practice and it was 8 am. Only four hours of sleep after helping that prick with a paper. No wonder he was a good student probably laid all the chicks to get papers done. I got my bats from downstairs and my baseballs from the closet and made my walk to the baseball field.

8:15 am

He's here, fml. I walked by him being sure to make my presence known, swaying my hips.

I saw his eyes glare from the baseballs to me and I felt his eyes burning holes into me. "Why are you wearing that?", He said.

"Because I'm playing baseball not going to prom." I said with the smart ass tone. I was wearing some tight yoga pants, with a t shirt that hugged my curves on. It was pretty risky to be playing baseball in but I didn't really care, I had the freedom to wear whatever I wanted. And Alex wouldn't change that.

Or so I thought.

"That's not proper gear, I could get coach to write you up for that." He said testing my power.

"Go ahead", I growled, "it's not school hours so he wouldn't care."

"Whatever just get away from me." He snarled.

I played baseball for 2 hours until I felt like I was exhausted. The base ball was flying and I didn't even really see it coming until it hit my in my chest.

Something was wrong. Fuck and right before a tournament that was supposed to be next week, not to mention people were coming to see me play for a possible scholarship.

I could barley breathe. I was gasping when Alex came running over, I saw him then suddenly it went black.

I regained my vision about what seemed after awhile, an ambulance was there and I was in there car, "she's awake" someone murmured. Personally this person didn't seem too enthusiastic about their job, I might suggest they get a new one. After about two hours of needle sticking and blood pressure they gave me the okay to continue baseball. They said I shouldn't play but they didn't know how much I loved it. They all left and Alex remained I started loading the base balls into the shooter that way I could practice.

"They told you not too Peyton." He said with his hand on my shoulder.

My heart skipped a beat.

"I'm fine, and I also don't follow their orders it's stupid." I said

"Why are you doing this to yourself Peyton?"

"Scholarships, games, everything and everyone has different motivations."

"What motivations?" He said sincerely.

"My dad", I paused," he was a big baseball fan."

"Oh." He said unexpectedly. "Please don't play, just let yourself get better you could have seriously got hurt."

"As long as I'm breathing (no pun intended) then I'm fine."

"But you weren't an hour ago Peyton."

"I'm breathing now."

"I can take your breath away." He said seductively.

"How." I said curiously.

"This." Within seconds I was against te gate and his heavy breath was on my mouth. He definitely took my breath away, and this time he didn't run away we sat there making out when someone in the distance said something.

"Don't interrupt that."

But who was it?

Coach?