"So what do you even do?" I asked Mr. Tate, folding my arms across my chest.

"It's called A-Team," he reminded me. "It's an academic team in which you're quizzed on questions related to mathematics, science, language arts, social studies, fine arts, world languages, and technology. We could really use you an asset to the team."

"I don't even know like half of those subjects," I pointed out.

I really don't want to join an extracurricular activity.

"That's why you attend practice," he encouraged.

"You have practice for A-Team?"

He looked around the room, where we were standing in the classroom with five other students that composed the Academic Team.

I guess this was practice.

"What do you do in practice?" I asked.

How could you possibly practice for an academic competition? Flash through flashcards of various subjects, hoping that you'll catch the just the right information?

"We study together and quiz each other. I provide the pizza," Mr. Tate informed me.

"You had me at pizza," I said, with a half-smile.

He laughed. "I think you'll enjoy it Sophie."

I don't know about that.

But they need another competitor. And I'm in need of a club to join.

It's like a match made in Heaven.

~*~

I pulled into my driveway, my eyebrows crinkling in confusion when I saw Bryce on my swinging back and forth on my front porch swing.

"What are you doing here?" I called, as I stepped out of my car.

He flashed me a smile.

I retrieved my backpack from the backseat before heading up to the front porch to join him.

"For you my lady," he said, offering me a bouquet of wild flowers.

I took a seat next to him on the swing, smelling my flowers as I snuggled up next to him. "Thank you. What's the special occasion?"

"Do I need a special occasion to bring my favorite girl flowers?"

I hummed in agreement, feeling my cheeks heat up a bit.

"Why are you out on my front porch?" I asked, as he continued to swing back and forth.

"Because I was waiting on you."

"I can see that. How long have you been here?"

"I had my mom drop me here after physical therapy because I figured you'd be here after school. But you never came home."

Right. A-Team.

"I joined a club."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "A club?"

"You have to promise not to make fun of me."

A smile tugged at the ends of his lips. "Would I make fun of you?"

"Yes, yes you would you jerk."

He chuckled, leaning over and planting a kiss on my cheek. "I promise."

"I joined A-Team."

His eyebrows furrowed in thought as he chewed on his bottom lip.

"Academic team," I added.

He shook his head.

He's precious.

"You know what A-Team is. Remember Henry Woodstock, how he'd be late to baseball practice on Thursdays-"

"-because he had the ner..." Bryce trailed off. "I mean he had that team practice for Tate."

"You were calling him a nerd!" I accused.

"Well Woodstock was a nerd," Bryce defended. "But you, my dear, are not."

I rolled my eyes, and he offered me an apologetic smile.

"So what brought you to my humble abode post therapy?" I asked Bryce, propping my feet up on his lap.

"I got some news from my therapist that I thought was important to share."

"Which therapist?"

Bryce made a disgusted face. "Don't make me sound like I have multiple problems."

"Was this story going somewhere?" I reminded him.

"My physical therapist," he informed me. "The one I saw just before I came here."

"Okay Captain Sarcasm, what did he tell you that was so important that you had to rush to the produce stand for these beautiful flowers and then make your way to my front porch?"

"He told me that I was cleared to play baseball."

I paused, my eyes snapping up to meet his.

"I'm so happy for you," I sang, laying my flowers down on the end table before throwing my arms around his neck.

He was stiff.

"What's the matter?" I asked, withdrawing my hug.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Shut up, what's the matter?"

"That sentence contradicts itself."

"Shut up, what's the matter?"

He chuckled, but I could still see the fear in his eyes.

"Why aren't you happy? Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Well yeah," he agreed, his voice stiff. "But I didn't expect it to come so soon."

"And you're worried because...?" I asked, tracing my fingers down his arm.

"Because I'm afraid it won't be the same," he filled in, without looking at me.

"What won't be the same?"

"Everything."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his face to look at mine.

"Everything won't be the same," Bryce repeated, softly. "What if I don't pitch the same anymore? What if I really suck at baseball?"

"What if you do?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

That wasn't what he expecting.

"Will your life fall apart?" I suggested. "Will I dump you for someone better at baseball, like Steven Anderson?"

His jaw tightened.

"Or Clayton?" I added.

He rolled his eyes.

"Will you fail out of high school because you can no longer throw a ball across a plate and end up flipping burgers at McDonald's? I mean, if you can even do that really, because if you can't pitch a baseball then who's to say you can flip a burger?"

"Are you done?" Bryce asked me.

"Are you done?" I countered.

"I just don't want anything to be different."

"And what use is to wallow in self-pity?" I unwrapped myself, patting him on the thigh. "Call Clayton, get out to the fields. Let's see what my rusty old boyfriend can do."

~*~

"So he's going to come back and dominate the team again?" Kylie asked me, as I slathered on some sunscreen.

"No," I declined.

"Well why not?" she whined. "Let's kick Steven out."

"He hasn't even tried playing yet," I said, pulling on a tank top over my bikini top. "He's going out to the fields with Clayton sometime this weekend to see what he's capable of at this point."

"I think he can still kick Steven's ass."

"I sure do hope so."

"So what athletic coupley thing are you guys up to today?" Kylie asked me.

I turned to face her. "We're going paddle boarding, as I've told you like 83 times. Are you still in your pajamas?"

"As if I'm changing."

"I don't much care what you do." I hopped up on my bed next to her, reaching up on the shelf to grab my keys. "You know where all the food is, leave whenever. Or stay. I'll be home later."

"Are you and Bryce going to come in here and get freaky?"

"Possibly."

She studied me for a moment, letting out a laugh. "You said that with a straight face, so I really can't tell if you're joking or not."

"I wasn't."

And then I flashed her a smile before hopping down off my bed and heading downstairs.

"I made you breakfast!" my mom sang, as she flipped an omelet in the pan.

"Thanks mommy."

"Where's Kylie?"

"Still in bed."

"Well I didn't bother making her breakfast anyways."

"You're so sweet."

She laughed, reaching over and pouring me a glass of milk. "I knew she wouldn't be awake."

I took a seat at the counter, sipping on my milk as I waited for my omelet to finish up.

"You know, paddle boarding is a hell of a workout," dad said, coming into the kitchen. He kissed the top of my head. "Good morning pumpkin."

"Morning daddy."

He poured himself a cup of coffee, humming as he did so.

"And yeah, I remember the last time. I was sore for like a week."

"You should try working out more," mom said, sliding me an omelet.

"That's never going to happen."

She just shook her head, checking her watch. "What time do you have to leave to pick up Bryce?"

"Like right now." I took another bite of my omelet. "I'll just drive a little faster."

"Don't even think about it," my dad called from the couch, without looking up from his newspaper.

"Be safe," mom reminded me. "I know you'll have lots of fun. Take pictures if you can."

I nodded.

"Did you put on sunscreen?"

"Yep."

"Do you have sunglasses?"

"Sure do."

"Do you have the address for the GPS?"

"I have a phone that has access to Google which can give me all of that information."

She sighed, shooting me a smile. "Okay, well have fun then."

I finished off the last bite of my omelet before kissing her on the cheek. "I will, love you."

"Love you too!"

Dad waved a piece of his newspaper after me as I left, and I blew him a kiss.

I know it's unconventional for a 17-year old teenage girl, but I love my parents. Like a lot.

I plugged in my phone to my Auxiliary cord, singing along as I coasted down the highway.

Bryce met me out my car, frowning as he heard my music.

"Did you go out last night?" he asked me, reaching over and turning down my radio.

"I did," I informed him. "And I kicked Kylie's butt in bowling."

"Clayton told me he won."

"Yeah well he's a jerk so."

Bryce chuckled, taking my phone and changing the song.

"Did you make the reservations?" I asked Bryce.

"You have to make reservations?"

I looked over at him, my eyebrows raised.

He laughed, flashing me a smile. "Yes, I made the reservations."

"Hate you."

"Love you."

He unplugged my phone, plugging in his own.

"No," I ordered.

"Just one," he bargained.

I let out a sigh, rolling my eyes. "Just one song," I agreed.

Four songs later, we pulled into the place where Bryce had rented our paddle boards.

"I thought I said one song," I reminded him, as I stepped out of the car.

"Wasn't that one?"

I shook my head at him, laughing as I slid my sunglasses on.

"I forgot mine," Bryce pouted, reaching in my car and pulling out my extra pair.

They were all black with pink sides.

"Those really match your eyes babe," I complimented.

"I try," he said, flashing me a smile.

"Did you put on sunscreen?"

"Yeah mom."

I rolled my eyes as we made our way over to check-in.

We had to ride in a trolley down to the drop-in point with our paddleboards, and we warned that the water was freezing.

And I definitely hadn't dressed for freezing in my bikini.

Bryce just offered me a mischievous smile.

"If you do anything to me, I will make sure it's the last thing you ever do," I warned.

Bryce just chuckled, hopping off the trolley and grabbing my paddleboard for me, handing it to me.

For me, standing up on the paddleboard was always the most difficult part.

Once I had my balance, then it was all smooth sailing.

For Bryce it was keeping his balance. Which made for a very difficult trip.

A very enjoyable trip for me though, because he looked ridiculous.

I always started off on my paddleboard sitting, before assuming the crouching position, and then fully standing up. It took a few minutes usually, because I'm not a professional, but I've never fallen in.

Unlike Bryce.

I looked over at Bryce once I was successfully standing. He was also successfully standing, smirking at me.

"It's a nice day out," I commented.

"The water is freezing," he answered, dipping his paddle into the water to start moving.

I eyed him as I started paddling myself. "Don't even think about it."

"I'm just paddling," Bryce defended, with a laugh.

I know him all too well.

"You need a haircut," I commented.

"I never thought I'd hear those words again," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "But yeah, I know."

I couldn't help but smile.

It was nice that his hair had grown out long enough again to the point to where he needed a haircut. It was almost as though it symbolized that he'd won a part of the battle.

I let out a sigh, letting my head dip back and the cool South Carolina morning air rush around me.

It was the perfect day for paddle boarding.

When I opened my eyes again Bryce was staring at me. I couldn't see his eyes through his sunglasses, so his expression was unreadable.

"What?" I asked, laughing.

"I love you."

Well that came from nowhere.

"Why thank you."

He just offered me a smile, a true, genuine smile.

Right before he dipped his paddle into the water, and with all the force he could muster up, sent a tidal wave in my direction.

"Bryce Harrison," I shrieked, as I was splashed with ice cold water.

He broke down into laughter, his body shaking as he howled.

I reached up and wrung out my sopping wet hair, trying to stay mad as a smile made its way to my face.

"I'm sorry," Bryce said, sobering up a little.

"No. No you're not."

"I know," he said, laughing a bit. "I just couldn't resist."

I shook my head at him, water flying in all directions. "You're a piece of work."

He dipped his paddle in the water, propelling himself forward. "Well I'm lucky to have someone like you by my side then."

This is the Bryce that I know and love.

~*~

"I still don't understand why she has to be here," Clayton commented, casting me a look.

"Because it's a free country," I snapped. "And I can be wherever I want to be, whenever I want to be."

"Chill out," Bryce said, rolling his eyes. "She's here because I want her here. You're here because I want you here. So make peace would you?"

I let my legs swing from my position atop the baseball fence as Bryce went back to searching for his glove, sticking my tongue out at Clayton.

Clayton just flipped me off before leaning against the opposite fence, waiting on Bryce.

"Found it!" Bryce announced, pulling out his glove.

"Fan-fucking-tastic, let's go," Clayton said, straightening up.

"How could anyone want you as their best friend?" I asked, shaking my head.

Bryce shot me a warning glance.

I just smiled at him.

Clayton took his position behind the home plate as catcher as Bryce took the pitcher's mound.

Bryce picked up a baseball out of the bucket, tossing it up and down a couple of times.

He was clearly nervous.

"Any day now!" Clayton called.

That wasn't going to help the situation.

Bryce rolled his shoulder back, his eyes trained on home plate.

I'd never seen him look so uneasy.

"Time!" I called, before hopping off the fence.

"You can't call time," Clayton called towards me.

I ignored him, jogging towards the pitcher's mound.

"What are you doing?" Bryce asked me, a smile on his face.

I looped my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his and pulling him close to me.

"You've got to me fucking kidding me!" Clayton called.

"What was that for?" Bryce asked me, once I pulled away.

"That's a winners kiss," I informed him, with a smile.

"A winners kiss?"

I nodded. "I figured you could use some motivation. But the only way you get another kiss like that one is if I see some action here on the field."

"I'd like to raise the stakes a bit," Bryce said, the sides of his lips tugging into a smirk.

"We'll talk about that later."

"Are you two done?" Clayton called.

Bryce just chuckled, and I skipped back down to my position on the baseball fence.

Bryce repositioned the baseball in his hand, taking in a deep breath before letting it rip.

And it was most definitely a ball.

It went far left of Clayton, hitting the backboard behind him.

"Yeah, I'm over here!" Clayton called.

Such an asshole.

Bryce picked up another baseball, letting out a long sigh as he positioned it in his hand before he let it go.

This one went to the far right.

"Okay, so you've got the ball down!" Clayton called. "Let's try a strike."

"Shut the fuck up!" Bryce called back, picking up yet again another baseball.

I went over to Bryce's bag, reaching inside and pulling out his glasses.

He hadn't worn them in a couple of weeks, claiming that he didn't need them anymore.

But I had a hunch that that was just because he hated wearing them.

The next pitch was closer to Clayton. It hit his glove on the left, but it was still a ball.

"Time!" I called, jogging out to the mound.

"This is bullshit," Clayton called, standing up.

I unfolded Bryce's glasses, sliding them onto his face.

"What is this?" Bryce asked me.

"Just try it," I encouraged.

"I don't need these."

"Then you can take them back off."

"Great." He reached up and slid them back off, handing them to me.

I rolled my eyes, sliding them back onto his face. "Think of it as an experiment."

"I'm not really that into Chemistry, so I'll pass."

"Just try it."

He ground his jaw, but didn't argue any further, and I kissed his cheek before resuming my position on the fence, yet again.

This time Clayton didn't have a smart remark, clearly noticing the change in Bryce's appearance.

Bryce took a little more time on the mound this time before releasing the pitch.

And it was a ball.

But it was much, much closer.

Clayton stood up, looking over at me before looking at Bryce. "That's borderline," he commented. "An ump would call it either way, but it's still a ball."

That pissed Bryce off only because it proved my point.

He needed the glasses.

"Do it again," Clayton encouraged, crouching back down.

"The hell is this?" a familiar voice called, before Bryce had the opportunity to pitch again.

I looked over to see Steven Anderson coming up towards the fields, two guys I didn't recognize behind him.

See Clayton? Steven brings two people to the fields with him two. So suck on that.

"Afternoon," I greeted.

"The fuck are you guys doing here?" Steven demanded.

"It's a public baseball field," Bryce said, hopping down off the mound. "We're using it."

"I've been coming here every Sunday afternoon since the season started," Steven stated.

"Next time maybe you should get here a little earlier," I said, offering him a smile. "But it's a public baseball field, so anyone has the right to use it."

Steven was clearly pissed off.

"There's another set of fields not too far down the street," Clayton commented. "Or you could always use the ones literally right over there." He pointed across the roadway in the complex, where there were another set of baseball fields.

It was like a 60 second walk.

"Everyone knows that those fields are shit," Steven stated.

"Well as he said, there's more fields down the street," I said, with a wave. "So bye."

Steven ground his jaw, but there wasn't much he could do about the situation.

They were public baseball fields.

So he turned on his heel and stormed off.

"So back to where we were," Clayton said, resuming his position. He held his glove in the center. "Right here."

Bryce stood motionless for a few moments before winding up and releasing the pitch.

A perfect strike.

I jumped up off the fence, letting out a cheer.

"That's it," Clayton said, standing up with a smile on his face as well.

"Again," Bryce ordered, another baseball already in his hand.