THANK YOU 2 page

I laughed at her insane logic. “They’re both the same guy. Just want to put that out there before I agree to go.”

Her eyes lit up as a grin spread across her face. “You’ll see. So you’ll go with me then?”

I released a breath and closed my eyes. “Yes. I’ll go with you,” I promised, doing my best to sound disappointed.

Her squeals of delight filled the air and I couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation welling within me. I didn’t want to be excited to see Jack in his element…but I was. But I’d be damned if I was going to admit it.

THREE

Our apartment was only a few blocks from campus, so we walked everywhere we could. In the grand scheme of things, it was much easier than dealing with the parking situation. There were too many cars and never enough spaces. Not to mention the fact that the price of a semester parking pass cost more than my first camera. This is partly why my parents refused to let me bring my car to school. So I sit at school, car-less. And my car sits at home, driver-less.

The lights of the stadium caught my eye before anything else did. The tall fixtures beamed in every direction, giving the school the appearance that it was lit up from the inside out. I stopped quickly and dropped to my knees, unwinding the camera’s thick black strap from around my wrist. I removed the lens cap and tucked it into the back pocket of my jeans. Melissa, used to my photographing ways, had already noticed my absence and silently waited for me.

I brought the viewfinder to my right eye and closed the left, as strands of my hair dangled in my line of vision. I let out an aggravated breath before gently placing my camera on the ground between my feet and twirling my long blonde mane into a knot at the back of my head. With my hair firmly out of my eyes, I angled the lens to show only the top of the baseball stadium, with the lights and the illuminated sky as the focal point. I manually adjusted the focus and the shutter speed before pressing the shutter release button and hearing the familiar click sound I’d grown to love. Satisfied with the preview on the screen, I stood up and walked over to Melissa.

“Good shot?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “We’ll see,” I said, reaching in my back pocket to fish out the lens cap.

I was still learning how to use my new digital camera. I’d saved for two full years to buy it, hoarding every bit of Christmas and birthday money from relatives and doing small photography jobs for local businesses and high school seniors. Oftentimes I thought the picture on the camera’s small preview screen looked gorgeous, only to find out it was blurry or nowhere near as pretty once it was full-sized on my computer monitor. But I was learning.

We walked side by side toward the stadium’s entrance. Melissa wasn’t joking when she said it was a spectacle. The line to get in exceeded the length of the field and spilled out into the parking lot. We took our place at the end and I removed my lens cap once again, mesmerized by the sea of orange and dark blue that engulfed us. Everyone was decked out in our school colors, some wearing mock baseball jerseys with players’ names on the back. I laughed to myself at the sheer number of “Carter, 23” shirts I saw and couldn’t resist photographing a few.

“Cassie, come on! You can do that once we sit!” Melissa urged, scanning the seat numbers on our tickets.

I followed obediently behind her. “Don’t most of the students sit in the bleachers?” I pointed toward left field.

“Depends on what you’re trying to see.” Melissa batted her long black eyelashes.

“Oh no. What have you done?” My legs began to tremble as I watched Melissa lead me all the way down the stairs to the front row, closest to the field.

She turned around, grinning from ear to ear. “Here we are,” she announced before plopping down and looking left into the team’s dugout.

I turned my head as well and realized we were practically in the freaking dugout. I leaned toward Melissa, almost knocking some poor guy’s drink in his lap. “Sorry,” I said quickly before squatting next to her. “I am not sitting here!”

“Yes, you are. These are our seats and the game’s sold out.” She smiled innocently and patted the empty seat next to her.

I scowled. “At least switch seats with me then. I don’t want to be the one closest to their dugout.”

“Fine,” she said before hopping up and flipping her hair.

I begrudgingly sat and slinked down into my seat, trying to conceal myself behind Melissa’s tiny frame. “I didn’t want Jack to know I was here. Now there’s no way he won’t see me.”

“This isn’t about you. You’re thinking too much.” She sloughed me off with a wave of her hand.

“You better be right.” I sighed, wondering how long I had to stay. I avoided looking anywhere near the team’s dugout, afraid of who might be looking back at me, when Melissa called me on it.

“He won’t see you, Cass. You can look in there. Hell, you can even photograph the dugout. He won’t know,” she informed me, her face serious.

“How is that even possible?” I gave Melissa my best duh look.

“Because Jack’s all business out here. He doesn’t look in the stands. Ever. And I mean, ever. Last year this girl took her freaking top off and screamed Jack’s name like a lunatic the entire time he was up to bat. He didn’t move a muscle to look in her direction. I could light your ass on fire and he wouldn’t even know.”

I laughed super loud. “Please don’t test that theory.”

“Look around, Cassie. I’m pretty sure this is the one thing in life he takes seriously.” Melissa leaned back into her seat, taking a sip of the soda she’d just bought from a roaming vendor.

I scanned the crowd and noticed that we were surrounded by what appeared to be major league scouts. Each carried their own radar gun to measure the speed of Jack’s pitches, and notepads to write everything down. There was a forest of television and press cameras lined up on tripods behind home plate. It was the closest thing to a media circus I’d ever seen. And I currently held my own professional-sized camera, which definitely helped us fit in with all the madness.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Fullton Field!” The announcer’s voice filled the air, as the cheers slowly died down in volume.

“Here to sing the national anthem is our very own Fullton State student, Laura Malloy!” Cheers reenergized the atmosphere as Laura smiled nervously before closing her eyes tightly and singing the opening words in perfect pitch.

I instinctively grabbed my camera and adjusted the lens, focusing on the emotions of her face, and snapped multiple pictures. When she finished, I watched as she walked toward the players lined up along the third base line and smiled hopefully at Jack. I secretly loved it when he didn’t acknowledge her.

“We have a sold-out crowd tonight, folks, and we all know why! Taking the mound against our rivals from Florida is the one and only Jack Carter!” The announcer enunciated Jack’s name like he was the savior of the free world, like he’d cured cancer, or delivered rainbows to colorless skies everywhere.

No, I take it back.

He said Jack’s name like Jack was a hero.

And I guess in a way he was. He brought media attention to the school and recognition to the baseball program. That attention translated into revenue for the school and top baseball prospects all wanted to play here. Jack was this university’s very own marketing machine.

The school worshipped him. It wasn’t just the girls on campus who wanted to be around him, it was everyone. I never realized the extent of his popularity before tonight.

“Now taking the field, your Fullton State Outlaws!” The announcer’s voice paused before continuing. “And now taking the mound, Jack Car-terrrrr!” He dragged out Jack’s last name, just like the wrestling announcers on TV.

The stadium erupted with ear-piercing shouts, howls, cheers, and screams. I looked at Melissa, shock clearly written all over my face, and she laughed, having witnessed this all before.

Jack walked confidently toward the dirt mound, his white-and-blue pinstriped sliding pants hugging his body in all the right places. I watched as his thigh muscles contracted against his pants with each step he took, and admired how good his butt looked in his uniform. His upper body was unfortunately hidden underneath a loose-fitting dark blue jersey with orange and white lettering.

His face looked different, more focused. This wasn’t the playful guy from the student union anymore. This was the confident, serious baseball player.

“What’cha smiling at?” Melissa’s voice cut through my inner dialogue.

I quickly dropped the smile I didn’t know I was wearing. “Nothing,” I snapped, and looked away, embarrassed.

“It’s irritating how good he looks in his uniform, right?”

I jerked my head back toward her. “Seriously. Why does he have to be so hot?”

“’Cause he’s a jerk. Jerks are always hot,” Melissa reminded me with a nod.

Jack stood on top of the pitcher’s mound, his left cleat kicking at the dirt in front of him. He placed his toes on the white rubber, dropped his glove hand to his knee, and gripped the ball with his left. His eyes focused solely on his catcher squatting sixty feet away. With a brief nod he leaned back, his body performing a motion so fluid and smooth it looked like it was made for him.

When his left hand released the ball, it flew by at a speed so quick I could barely make out anything but a white blur. The sound of the ball impacting against the catcher’s mitt was so loud it echoed against the backstop. The batter stepped out from the batter’s box and looked nervously at his coach before stepping back in. Two more pitches screamed by and that was out number one of the night.

“Strike three! You’re out!” the umpire shouted enthusiastically and the crowd cheered wildly.

The scouts in the stands huddled together, comparing the red “ 97 94 ” digital readout on their radar gun screens.

“Holy shit, that was ninety- seven four miles an hour,” I said out loud, my mouth slightly open.

“I told you he’s good.”

I focused my camera on the pitching mound, with Jack’s feet and the bottom of his glove dangling in the viewfinder. Click. Then I moved the lens up to view his bare left hand, gripping the baseball between three fingers, the red-stitched seam barely visible. Click. He brought his glove up to his face and all features except his brown eyes disappeared behind it. Click. His face twisted as he released the powerful pitch, his eyes never leaving their target. Click. Sweaty dark hair briefly saw light as Jack removed his cap and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. Click.

When the inning ended, I watched Jack jog off the field and into the dugout, never once looking into the stands. He instantly reappeared, a dark blue helmet on his head, two bats in hand. He swung the bats around like a windmill, stretching his shoulders. And when he bent over to stretch his hamstrings, girlish screams filled the air, along with flashes of light.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I shook my head, looking around at the people taking pictures.

“Spectacle,” was all Melissa said with a laugh.

Jack stepped around home plate and into the batter’s box, his demeanor completely relaxed. Since he was left-handed, the front of him was in full view, as opposed to the back of all the right-handed hitters. I started to grab my camera, but then shoved it back on my lap instead. I had enough pictures of Jack for one night.

The opposing pitcher went through his motion and as he released the ball, Jack took a small step forward before his hips twisted with his swing. The ping of the ball against the metal bat quickly disappeared amidst all the cheering. Jack easily rounded first base and picked up speed as he raced toward second. The outfielder fired the ball at the shortstop as Jack slid headfirst into the bag, a cloud of dust encircling him.

“Safe!” The umpire shouted his call, his arms outstretched on either side of his body.

Jack planted both feet on top of the dusty base and brushed the dirt off his chest before dipping down the belt of his pants and allowing clumps of dirt to fall out. I was completely turned on.

I suck, I suck, I suck.

I overheard one scout ask another, “What did you clock him to first?” Referring to Jack’s base running speed from home plate to first base.

The other scout glanced at his stopwatch. “Four point one.” The first scout nodded his head in agreement and scribbled down more notes.

The photographer in me couldn’t hold out any longer. I zoomed in on Jack’s hands, now covered in batting gloves as he stepped away from second base with three long strides. Click. The dark of his eyes, now shadowed from his helmet, gave him an almost ominous appearance. Click.

“Gonna make a Jack photo album for yourself later?” Melissa flicked a finger at my shoulder as she teased me.

“You’re the one who said I needed to work on my action shots!” I whisper-shouted.

“I didn’t say they all had to be of Jack.”

“Shit.” I snapped the lens cap on and quickly flipped the power button into the Off position, where it stayed for the remainder of the game.

When it finally ended, Jack had pitched all nine innings and only gave up one run and three hits. The final score was eight to one, us. I grabbed my camera and shoved it into my purse before looking back at the team celebrating on the field. The coach pulled Jack aside and escorted him over to the press area where he was besieged by reporters, scouts, and fans.

Jack glanced up from the field and directly into my eyes. That single look stopped me in my tracks, and I was slammed into by the man walking behind me. Jack smiled and turned his attention back toward the cameras and journalists.

FOUR

I strolled through the tree-lined campus, following the cement pathway that would eventually lead me to the Trunk offices. I’d joined the award-winning student-run magazine at the insistence of my visual communications professor. Even though I was required to take writing classes with my major, my focus was on the visual reporting side of things. I yearned to improve my craft, bringing life-changing visuals to accompanying articles.

I spotted the one-story brick building up ahead. All the newer buildings on campus were constructed with red and white brick, while the original buildings were large white stucco structures. It never made sense to me why they wouldn’t at least attempt to match the newer buildings with the older ones.

I pulled the tinted glass door open and a gush of air conditioning greeted my face. I moved my sunglasses on top of my head, pulling my long hair back with them as I rounded the corner.

“Hey, Dani,” I said as I entered, not wanting to startle Danielle, who squinted at the computer before she looked up.

“Hey, Cassie, come look at this.” She waved me over, her expression still tight. I peered around her puffy brown ponytail and over her shoulder at the photograph on the screen. “I need this picture to have more expression. It’s not giving me what I want. What am I missing?”

I looked at the eight-year-old boy standing in front of spilled water buckets, his expression sorrowful. “First of all, I don’t think it should be in black and white. The details get lost in this photo. May I?” I pointed at the seat she occupied.

“Please.” She jumped up from the seat as we switched positions.

I reopened the original picture in the photo editing software and manipulated the colors before pointing to the screen. “Look at the dirty rug hanging behind him. I barely noticed it in black and white. The cracks in the buckets, and the rubble at his feet,” I paused, “were all lost before. This picture needs to be in color. This picture deserves to be in color.”

Her hands clapped together behind my head before she squeezed my shoulders. “You’re such a fucking genius. I love you.”

I smiled, my eyes glued to the screen. “Thanks.”

“So what’s up?” Dani smiled, the tension creases between her eyes easing up as she relaxed.

“I just stopped by to work on some photos I took of last night’s game. I thought you might want to use them for the feature you’re running on Jack Carter.”

“Tell me you’re not one of…” she hesitated, “them.”

“One of…what?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing.

“One of the hundreds of girls on campus in love with all things Jack Carter.” She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh.

I guffawed. “Uh, no. I can’t stand the guy.”

“Well that’s a first,” she admitted with a laugh. “We have a million pictures of Jack, but in all honesty, I’d love to see anything you shot.”

“Thanks, Dani.” I sat up a little straighter and smiled, unable to quell the little rise of pride welling up inside me.

“Now that you saved me from killing myself over this photo, I need to eat. See you later and thanks again.” She tossed her purse strap over her shoulder, catching the ends of her ponytail in it before cursing and tugging the strands free.

It took longer than I expected to edit the photos from last night, but I had to admit they were good. They were better than good, actually. My stomach rumbled and I wondered if Melissa was still on campus. I sent her a quick text to which she responded, “Still here. In the SU.”

I wrote back, “I have class in a few, but I’m on my way,” before inserting the memory card into my camera and shoving it into my backpack. I passed some girls and pretended not to notice when they pointed and whispered Jack’s name.

Irritated, I took a detour through campus, pleased when I noticed the pathway was virtually vacant. I shook my head while I walked, annoyed that Jack’s antics had made me the focus of attention I didn’t want.

I threw open the heavy glass door and heard the sound of bowling pins crashing. Craning my neck to see the bowler, I smiled when I recognized the guy from my digital foundations class. Quick bursts of light alerted me that he wasn’t bowling for fun and I watched another kid from class taking pictures of him.

I diverted my attention and looked around the sparse crowd for Melissa’s face. She tilted her head and stuck out her tongue, catching my eye, before I strolled over to where she and Dean were sitting. I flung my pack on the table before plopping down.

“Thought you weren’t coming to my game?” Jack slid his body into the seat next to mine, his tone sounding a bit arrogant.

“My roommate threatened to set me on fire if I didn’t.” I kept my voice cool and avoided his eyes, scooting my body away from his.

“Well, at least now I know how to get you to go out with me.”

“I’m not going out with you,” I said, turning my head away from him.

“At least give me your number then?”

“No thanks.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I don’t want to.” I breathed out, still irritated about the way other girls acted around him. It just kept eating at me, which was a good thing, because it helped me resist Jack. God help me.

“Aw, come on, Kitten.”

“Stop calling me that!” I rose from the table, grabbing my things. “I’ll see you later,” I announced, my attention solely focused on Melissa.

I flung my pack across my shoulder and slipped hastily out a side door. Dropping my sunglasses over my eyes, I headed toward the tall Communications & Arts Building.

“Kitten! Kitten, wait up!”

I looked back to see Jack racing to catch me, and everyone’s attention drawn toward us.

“For the last time, my name isn’t Kitten.” Hiking my bag strap a little higher on my shoulder, I sped up my pace.

“I know! But you’ve never told me your real name,” he said, slightly out of breath.

I let out a quick sigh. “Cassie.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Cassie.” He said my name all syrupy sweet and his brown eyes danced. It was easy to see why girls threw themselves at him.

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you too, but I haven’t decided yet.”

He laughed. A real, hearty laugh and I had to stop myself from doing the same. “Anything I can do to help sway your decision?” He scratched his hair, his bicep flexing.

“I highly doubt that.”

“Let me take you out, Cass.” He said it so honestly, I almost believed he genuinely wanted to.

“No.” I stood firm, my tone flat.

“Why not?”

“I enjoy my dates to be disease-free.”

Score one for Cassie.

Take that, Jack Carter.

“As do I,” he quipped confidently before giving a head nod to a passing teammate.

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Right. I’ve heard you’re not really particular about who you date.”

“Well you heard wrong, then.”

“Oh, that’s right. Actually, I heard you don’t date at all. You just sleep with any girl who bats her fake eyelashes in your direction.”

“I really need to meet your sources.”

He followed me into the white stucco building. When I reached my classroom door, I turned to him and said, “See ya, Carter,” as I headed down the stairs to my regular seat.

“Are you going to be this hostile on our date?” he shouted into the packed room.

All heads turned my direction, curiosity overwhelming them. I swallowed the lump in my throat and willed my cheeks to not turn red. Yeah, like that’s going to work.

Pausing on the stairs, I pivoted and glared at Jack. “Who said I was going on a date with you?”

“Don’t make me beg, Kitten.” I shot him an irritated glare as the classroom filled with whispers and sounds of shock. “Don’t make me beg in front of all these people. It’s embarrassing.”

“I’ll go out with you, Jack,” a busty blonde shouted, poking her shellacked face out from behind her seat.

“Perfect! I’m sure you two will have a great time together.” I dropped into my seat and slinked lower, wishing for the power to become invisible.

My eyes closed and I took a few deep breaths before warm whispers interrupted my attempt to relax. “I don’t want to go out with her, Kitten. I want to go out with you.” His breath tingled against my neck, causing the small hairs to prickle with excitement and sending goose bumps shooting down my arm.

“What are you doing? Get out of here,” I whispered, my tough facade cracking.

Honestly, I’m surprised it lasted this long.

“Promise me you’ll think about it.” His voice lowered with insistence, then he gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Promise you I’ll think about going out with the school’s biggest player? Oh sure, I’ll think about it.” Seriously?

“Promise me,” he insisted.

Either he was actually sincere, or he was a really good bullshit artist and I was completely buying into it. I took one deep breath. I turned my head to the left and looked him dead in the eyes. “Fine. I promise I’ll think about it. Will you go away now?”

A wide grin emerged and his gorgeous dimples appeared, torturing me with their adorable sex appeal. He stood up without another word and walked out of the classroom. I sat in silence, trying to hear anything other than the sound of my heart banging like wild bongo drums in my ears.

I’m pathetic.

When class ended, I walked outside to find Jack surrounded by a group of giggling girls. His eyes met mine and he broke from the circle, running to catch up. “Stalk much?” I said between breaths.

“It’s not stalking when you enjoy it,” he teased, overconfidence oozing from every perfect pore.

Half of me wanted to punch his gorgeous face, and the other half wanted to make out with it. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t have to say that to all the girls. You’re the only one who gives me crap for things like…breathing.”

I rolled my eyes.

Again.

“Well, you’re an annoying breather.”

“You’re an annoying eye-roller,” he fired back.

“What?” I stopped walking and turned toward his smug face, causing the pack of girls following us to stop as well.

“You shouldn’t roll your eyes like that. Didn’t your parents ever tell you it wasn’t good for you?” He shoved a hand into his front pocket as girls walked by, begging for his attention. I had his complete interest, whether I wanted it or not.

“My parents said a lot of things,” I responded defensively.

“Oh, I get it now.” His voice was as sweet as Southern iced tea. “Daddy issues.”

“How does any girl stand you?” He made me so mad I wanted to smack his smarmy face, but I just stood there frozen as the wind breezed through my hair.

“It’s the dimples.” Jack actually delivered the line seriously, pointing at the indent on his cheek before breaking into a big smile.

I couldn’t take the banter any more. “At least you’re humble,” I said, before willing my legs to move.

“Just let me take you out. One date,” he shouted at my retreating frame. “And if you hate it and we have a horrible time, you never have to go out with me again.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him. “So that’s it? Just one date and you’ll go away forever?” I laughed, actually considering the idea.

We were making a scene again as girls whispered and guys waited to observe if Jack Carter would actually get shot down.

“Just one date.” He held up one finger in front of my face before involving the crowd. “Help me out here, guys.” He turned to face the gawkers. “Tell her to go out with me one time. What can it hurt?”

The crowd roared with encouragement, and I heard shouts like, “Awwww, go out with him!” and “It’s just one date! Do it!”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Fine. Just one.” Loud cheers erupted at my response. You’d think I’d just accepted a marriage proposal the way those idiots were carrying on.

What had I just gotten myself into?

FIVE

“I cannot believe I agreed to this,” I said, burying my face in my hands.

Melissa plopped down next to me on the floor of my bedroom. “This is a bad idea. You should probably call him and cancel.”

I lifted my head and let out a deep sigh. “He’d never leave me alone then!”

She nodded. “You’re right. Oh my God, you have to go.”

I pulled myself up and studied my face in my bedroom mirror. “Maybe it won’t be so bad?” I wondered as I brushed powder across my face.

“Or maybe it will?” Melissa bit her bottom lip, her face contorted in thought.

“What are you thinking?”

Melissa grinned mischievously. “If the date is horrible then he’ll go away, right?”

“That’s what he said,” I responded reluctantly.

“Well, then all you have to do is be a crappy date! You know, like what’s-her-face in How to Lose A Guy in Ten Days!”

I leaned away from her, pondering her suggestion while I dropped the brush and picked up my mascara.

“Oh my God! You little slut! You want to have a good date with him. You love him and want to have ten thousand of his little baseball babies! Cassie!!!”

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” I asked through my laughter.

“Movies. They have the best lines.” Melissa’s eyes twinkled, matching the huge grin on her face.

The doorbell rang and my laughter caught in my throat. Shit. I wasn’t ready for this. My deer-in-the-headlights look grabbed Melissa’s attention. “I’ll go let him in and keep him occupied until you’re ready.”

I sighed. “Thank you.”

I could hear the sound of our front door creaking open as his friendly voice reverberated down the hall and into my room, causing me to shake nervously. Gripping the fine liner brush tightly with a trembling hand, I finished lining my lips and brushed a soft seashell-colored gloss on top. I smacked my lips together once, then puckered to make sure the gloss was evenly spread.

Before I left my room, I did a quick squat in front of the mirror. I watched as my low-rise jeans went even lower, revealing far too much of my pink underwear. I pulled my black tank top down around my waist and bent over again. My jeans still pulled low in the back, but my top stayed firm.

I rounded the corner and heard Jack’s voice stop abruptly when he caught sight of me. “You look adorable, Kitten.” His voice practically purred.

“That’s it, I’m not going.” I threw my hands up in the air and turned back toward the hall.

He stopped me with his laughing response. “I’m sorry, Cass. I won’t call you that anymore.”

“I’m not sure you can help it.” I eyed him narrowly.

“I might slip up a time or two, but can you really blame me?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black and white shorts and then batted his thick eyelashes at me.

“Yes. Don’t call me Kitten. It’s annoying and it makes me hate you.”

“Is she always this argumentative?” he asked Melissa through a one-dimpled smirk.

Date: 2015-01-29; view: 637