Undercover Star

♪ Nineteen ♪

I hadn't played a game of baseball in my life. I enjoyed watching it, and had been to a handful of Major League games here and there. It had never been a big part of my life, but I was nonetheless excited for Thomas' game.

"Looking good, sport," Rich said, slapping the bill of my hat down over my eyes.

I shot him a flat look and fixed my hat. "Do you mind?"

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't know it meant that much to you."

"Well it does," I replied harshly. "This all means a lot to me."

"The choir?"

"Everyone in the choir," I clarified.

He looked at me for a long moment before nodding once.

"Have fun," he said softly before turning to the kitchen.

I shook off his sudden change in mood and left the hotel. It was a perfect morning. The sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was great baseball weather.

I was able to find the field by retracing the way we went to the ice cream parlor and then walking where Carla told me too. The small field came into vision.

It was pretty much empty besides a small group of boys and a couple of parents. Half of the boys were wearing blue and the other orange. I looked for Thomas among the blue team, but couldn't spot him.

"Jesse!"

I turned and saw Thomas running towards me carrying a glove and a bat. The uniform he wore looked pretty professional.

"Hey!" I exclaimed. I couldn't help grinning back as he beamed up at me. "Ready for the game?"

"Haven't warmed up yet," he replied, "but I'm still exited."

Carla came and joined us. "Hello Jesse. How are you?"

"Great," I told her.

"Will you practice with me?" Thomas asked.

"Uh, sure," I said uncertainly.

"Here," he said, handing me a large glove. "You can wear my dad's glove."

I smiled at him sadly, accepting the glove and thanking him. I thought about what Summer had told me about him losing his dad. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose a father, especially at such a young age. Even though we didn't have a good relationship, I knew it would still be hard to lose my own dad.

"Do you know how to catch?" Thomas asked, like the gesture wasn't a big deal to him. He was strong at such a young age.

"I know the basics," I told him. "But I'm not sure I'll be good at it."

"That's okay," he said happily. "Batman can do anything."

He began walking backwards until he was several feet away from me. "Franklin!" he suddenly shouted to another boy on his team. "Can I have a ball?"

"Sure!" the boy replied, tossing him a ball after fishing it out of a bucket.

"Thanks," Thomas called. He moved the ball around in his glove for a minute. He lifted up his arm and I got a little nervous. I felt like the thing could knock out three of my teeth if thrown hard enough.

"Ready, Batman?" Thomas asked.

I nodded, lifting the glove in front of my face for good measure.

I cringed as the ball hit my glove and then fell to the ground. At least I was close.

"Almost!" Thomas called positively. "Just squeeze the glove when it hits your hand."

I nodded and lifted the ball from the ground. I tried to mock Thomas' previous steps to properly throw the ball, but it didn't go quite well. He had to dive to catch it.