"I'm afraid there is only one more player left on the bench."
"Aaron Judge is in the hole."
"On the deck...
Into the batters box."
Strike one.
Strike two.
Strike three.
.179
Aaron Judge sat uncomfortably in a waiting room. The chair was too small, his nerves were everywhere and his leg shook uncontrollably. As much as he hated being there when he could be playing baseball his injury prevented pretty much everything.
The news broke out. The strain made him done for the year. There was only so much a kid could take in, and this was his breaking point.
Freak.
Stop crying.
Don't swing.
.179
His eyes started to water from beaming down at the number, filled with hatred. He forced himself into looking at it so much he didn't realize that his grip on the chair was bone crushing he had dented it. He wanted to kick, scream yell and cry.
.179
He didn't do any of those things. He couldn't take his anger out on cork and leather in a spherical shape anymore. Instead he accepted it- or at least he was convinced that he was accepting it. He hated looking at the number but it stayed with him. It was a reminder of who he is, and who he needs to be.
"Hey Aaron, your appointment is in an hour." You walked into the waiting room, admiring the man that made your heart stop at sight. The man that made you look twice in the mirror before routinely calling up patients.
"I know (Y/N) but... actually... no, its ok." He refrained himself from saying anything more. He knew if he started to talk he wouldn't stop.
"Aaron, talk to me." Aaron trusted you with a lot of things, for example whatever what was on his mind. You were his physical therapist after all, he trusted you since the day you were assigned to him.
"I just... figured being early ensured that I won't late." He was early because of you. Aaron did a lot more than just admire his horrendous batting average. He liked to admire people, and of course he admired you. He gave up the self denial weeks ago on his feelings for you. Why, out of everyone would you go out with him? The number on his phone gave it an even more reason as to why you were out of his league.
Like a lovesick puppy he watched you from afar. You treated your patients with such care and delicacy and from time to time your nose would crinkle when you smiled. You would even snort slightly when you laughed.
He loved that.
"Earth to Aaron?" You waved your clipboard in front of his face. He diverted his attention from his phone screen to your eyes.
.179
"Have you had any more issues with simple daily activity?" You asked him, leading him to a room. He shook his head, taking a seat on an even smaller chair.
You were even more beautiful.
The way your hair fell in front of your face, and the way that you moved with grace.
"Cute..." You whispered to yourself, but Aaron had picked it up. His cheeks turned a shade of pink.
You thought he was cute.
"I'm sorry they put you down for the rest of the season Aaron. I know you're down about it too. Please talk to me. Pretend I'm not your therapist." It was hard to crack him open, but you took a seat across from him. But that made him shift uncomfortably. When he wouldn't answer you spoke up. "Has the advice I've given you helped you a bit? Looking at your average?" He swallowed hard and merely tilted his head.
"I-I uh..." You realized how uncomfortable you were making him so you stood up and moved across the room. His eyes fell at your movement.
"It just hurts me a little bit." You tilted your head, confused as to what he meant. "I mean my back. It hurts a bit."
A few minutes went by as you filled out forms, the only sound coming from the movement of your pen on paper and small breaths.
"You're a strange one Aaron."
You got out of his chair and instructed him to sit on the table. He did so.
"Um, can you remove your shirt please?" You looked at the floor because you couldn't say that sentence looking at him in the eyes. He obliged. Your arms make his skin tingle, as they made your way down to his lower back. Aaron winced a bit, and you gently rubbed that area. You breathed down his neck, both of your hearts racing to the point where you thought it would escape from your chest. His skin yearned for your touch.
"A-am... I a.... bad player?" Hesitance radiated from his voice. You ignored his comment and instead instructed him to bend down as you stretched out his lower back. You needed time to address it, but a comment such as 'Aaron I think you're a fantastic player' wouldn't do. It had to have meaning, it had to have a purpose. Meanwhile his mind was racing, terrified that he had said the wrong thing. He wanted the truth from you, and only you.
"Well, you got me watching from the stands." It was true. Whenever the Yankees were in town you would always watch from afar. You've never really admitted it until now. His eyes lit up.
"Really? You do?" He smiled. Aaron was happy. You were watching his games. You were there for him and he didn't even know it. A wave of guilt washed over him.
"I'm sorry. You do so much for me and I seem to look over it sometimes."
.179
"Well I got nothing better to do with my time."
"Me too" He said softly, enough for you to hear. He remembered his season being over, his career being placed on pause.
"I'm still rooting for you. Wherever you go Aaron, I'll follow you. And that's not just because you're on my fantasy team." You blushed, revealing the nerd side of you. This boy really did control your emotions.
"Your boyfriend is a lucky guy." You looked at him confused.
"Oh, I don't actually have one." You laughed, your cheeks flushing red once again. His eyes widened to a point they were like the size of saucers.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm just not used to a pretty girl talking to me and I can't help but wonder about the lucky guy."
Pretty.
He just called you pretty.
"Thanks, you probably have a lucky someone at home."
"Oh, you mean my mom?" That forced you a laugh, and pretty soon he was laughing too. Aaron built up the courage to ask you a question.
"If I may, can I take you out sometime?" His eyes beamed with hope, waiting for a response.
"I'm done at six. I'm free after." Your heart beated with joy, the smile never leaving your face. He was going to ask you out on a date.
"Can we meet down at that cafe next door?"
"I don't see why not!" He left with a smile on his face, completely forgetting about everything on his mind before. He couldn't stop smiling.
He forgot about his injury.
He forgot about the note on his phone.
He forgot about the bad times.
.179
Aaron Judge made a new note on his phone that day, he made the note so that it would remind him of New York. It would remind him of what he had now. It reminded him of what he would never lose.
That note was you.
And little did he know, you looked at a number too. You wore it all the time, day and night.
