08/28/2015

chapter four ;

♡

threatening notes from my family was not the best idea. All throughout the week and during school hours, all I could think about was the two letters I had received.

On Friday, everyone was excited for the first week of school to come to an end. Meanwhile, I feared that I would come home to see my house burned down.

Creative Writing, as usual, was fun. Mr. Jackson quickly learned that the entire class liked scary stories, so he provided us with a prompt, and we branched off from there. With the cool air and the scent of vanilla and another sweet fragrance, the silence and my imagination running free, I felt at ease.

My peace came to an end when the bell rang. A sigh escaped my lips, and I stood to my feet. I slung my backpack over one shoulder and approached Mr. Jackson, who stood by the door, hands in his pockets.

I handed my story, which was only two pages long, to the teacher. Before I could leave the classroom, though, he said,

"Miss Sullivan. Could you stay here for a moment?"

"Oh, sure." I stopped in my tracks, turning to face Mr. Jackson. As the others turned in their stories and left the classroom, I made my way back inside.

Leah stopped to speak to me as the remainder of the students filed out. "Hey," she said, "what are you doing?"

I shrugged. "Mr. Jackson wants me to stay behind."

"Hmm," she raised her eyebrows. "I wonder what he wants. . . ."

I chuckled. "I know what you're thinking." Leah wiggled her eyebrows. "That's creepy as hell, no."

Leah giggled. "Let me know. See ya."

"Yeah, see you later," I smiled. As if in salute, I pressed my index and middle finger to my forehead – a gesture I had picked up from Chris Brown in his role in Takers.

Mr. Jackson turned to face me when everyone was gone. "Sorry to keep you behind, but I just thought you should know that I'm really impressed with your work. When did you start writing?"

"Thank you," I grinned. "And I started writing in the first grade, maybe even younger."

Mr. Jackson chuckled. "Well, it's no wonder. You're an exquisite writer. So far, I've never been disappointed with what you've turned in to me."

"I appreciate that. I've always wanted to be a writer, so that means a lot to me."

"It's only the truth. I'm sure you've heard it from others. Anyway, I know it's early on, but if you do decide to carry out your wishes, and you want to become a writer . . . Well, I know a few people who could make that come true for you."

My breath hitched in the back of my throat. Before I could respond, Mr. Jackson chuckled and continued.

"In fact, they're practically my family," Mr. Jackson said. "Upon my wishes, you could do this for a very small price. When you're older, I know people who could publish and edit your work."

"You can't be serious," I breathed. "I mean . . . I'm not that good. I'm still learning – "

"Yes, but even as you are now, there are many big-time publishers who'd be satisfied with your work," Mr. Jackson insisted. "You don't need to make any decisions now, but you're informed. I'll let you get home now. Have a great weekend."

"Uh, thanks. You too," I returned with a small smile.

With that, I left the classroom. On my way to the front doors, I texted Benny and explained that Mr. Jackson stopped me to talk, and that I was on my way to the doors.

Just as I pressed send, someone's body slammed into mine. A gasp escaped my lips when my phone slipped from my fingers. My blood ran cold, because I knew I wouldn't catch it. And then the person who bumped into me did catch my phone.

I glanced up, surprised to find Jordan Phillips. His eyes were wide when they turned to meet mine.

"I'm so sorry," Jordan mumbled, "I wasn't paying attention."

"Yeah, obviously," I grumbled, snatching my phone from his hands. Without another word, I pushed past him and continued down the hall.

Jordan sighed. "Makayla," he called.

I pursed my lips and turned around to face the boy. "What?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but then pressed his lips together, looking down at the ground. Before I could walk away, though, he spoke.

"Can you stop hating me? Please?"

I stared at him, shaking my head ever so slightly. Then I thought of the times that Jordan actually took my side, even over Hannah. Whether he was sincere about his confession of "love" for me or not, I wasn't sure.

"I know that your friends hate me, and you have every reason to hate me too," Jordan continued. "But I didn't mean those things I said to you before, I really didn't. And if I made you uncomfortable the last time I talked to you . . . I'm sorry. I won't say stuff like that anymore. I just want – "

"I'm really not trying to be mean, Phillips, but it's not gonna happen." I sighed. "And I don't hate you. But my friends do, and I won't betray them again."

"I'll try to make it right with them too," Jordan insisted. "I'm tired of being the bad guy. I'll make amends with all of them."

"Well, I won't be the messenger," I replied. "If you want that, then you'll go to them yourselves. As for me – I'm Switzerland."

Jordan called my name after I turned on my heels and walked away, but this time, I didn't stop. I felt bad enough talking to him that much.

As usual, Benny waited for me at the front doors. He was leaned against the white brick wall, between the two sets of glass double doors. A small smile curled on his lips when his eyes met mine.

"Hey," Benny greeted, holding an arm out to me. When I reached him, he threw his arm around my shoulders.

"Hey," I returned, smiling at him – but he must have noticed the effort put forth to muster that smile, because he frowned.

"What's wrong? What did your teacher say?"

"Nothing's wrong," I sighed. "He told me that he thinks I'm a good writer, and that he knows some people who could help me become a published author when I'm older."

Benny's eyebrows rose. "Wow. That's awesome."

I chuckled. "Yeah, it is. But . . . well, something else happened. Just in case it gets to you or something, and it gets twisted into something it's not."

"What?"

"Phillips ran into me after I left Mr. Jackson's room," I explained, "and he said that he didn't want me or you or the boys to hate him anymore."

Benny rolled his eyes, removing his arm from around my shoulders. "Not a chance."

"I know."

"So, what'd you say?"

"I told him that I don't hate him – 'cause I don't hate anyone – but I won't be the messenger," I informed him. "If he wants to make things right, he'll have to come to you guys on his own."

"Oh, okay," Benny nodded. After a few moments, he asked, "Did he say anything else?"

I nibbled at my bottom lip nervously. "I didn't tell you this, because I didn't want you to get mad, but . . . he came to my house a little while ago. He told me that he didn't mean any of the mean stuff he said to me. And . . ."

"And?" Benny's voice was tight, and I didn't dare look at him.

"He told me that he's in love with me," I finished, heaving a sigh afterward. Perhaps the fear was invalid, but I was afraid that he would be angry with me.

When Benny didn't respond, I glanced over at him. His lips were pursed. "What did you say?"

"I told him to go home. . . . Benny, I wouldn't do that – "

"I know you wouldn't," Benny broke in, his face softening. He looked down at me as we stopped near Luke's car. "I trust you, Kayla. I'm not mad at you. It's just . . . Phillips says he wants to make things right, yet he says stuff like that to you, knowing you're with me."

"Yeah, he's a dumbass."

Benny chuckled, then touched my hand. On instinct, I grabbed hold of his hand and laced our fingers together.

"I have a surprise," Benny said.

"What?"

"When Luke gets here, you'll see." Benny smirked. "I need to get into his car, but we're not riding with him today."

"We're not?" I frowned. "Why?"

"It's a secret," Benny laughed. "But you should catch on quick."

"You kill me."

Luke showed up a few moments later, Skylar at his heels. A goofy smile was plastered across his face, and his hair was slightly ruffled.

"Hey, man," Benny said, "could you pop the trunk?"

Without saying a word, Luke brought out his keys and pressed a button. A click was heard, and Benny opened the trunk. Meanwhile, Luke and Skylar began to make out.

Frankly, I was tired of their constant arguing and making up. Finally, I was at the point that I hated seeing them together in the first place, especially when they were making out like they were alone in a bedroom, not in the middle of the school parking lot.

"All right," Benny spoke, earning my attention, "let's go."

When I turned to face Benny, I was surprised to find that he was holding a baseball bat and two gloves. My mouth dropped, causing Benny to laugh.

"We're going to the sandlot?" I squealed in excitement.

"Yes," Benny chuckled. "I couldn't stay away for long. All of the guys will be there after school. We might be some of the first – "

"Aye, Benny!" DeNunez's voice rang from across the parking lot.

Bertram and DeNunez crossed the parking lot side-by-side, approaching me and Benny. DeNunez, unsurprisingly, rolled a sparkling new baseball in his hand.

"Catch!"

Benny didn't even have his glove on when DeNunez pitched the ball – and not slowly, either – but by the time the ball reached us, he caught it in his gloved hand. I stared at him as if he had two heads.

"Benny . . . are you a vampire?" I inquired thoughtfully.

A laugh escaped Benny's perfect lips, and he threw his arm around my shoulders. He gave me the baseball, closing my fingers around it.

"You can bat first," Benny said.

Forcing my eyes to go as wide as they could, I stared at Benny and pointed out, "You're averting the question."

"If I was a vampire . . . I'd probably run faster."

I laughed. "Nah. You wouldn't be able to run any faster. You're fast enough."

"Mm," he shrugged, "I dunno about it."

"They don't call you 'The Jet' for nothing," I insisted.

All of a sudden, Bertram reached us with wide eyes. "Whoa! What kind of conversation did I just walk into?"

I gasped, and slapped Bertram's arm. "Oh, don't even! Get your mind out the gutter. Nasty ass."

The boys laughed loudly, and I rolled my eyes. Luke, naturally, hadn't heard a thing – he was lost in his own world, also known as Skylar's lips.

"Okay, if we're going . . . let's go," I said. Pointing at Luke and Skylar, I added, "They're grossing me out."

♡

Although it had only been shortly over a week since I had visited the sandlot, I realized how lost I felt. Perhaps I had imagined it, but the sun shone brighter and the air was sweeter at the sandlot.

I was able to look at the sandlot with new eyes now. By the entrance, Benny had told me he loved me for the first time.

All of the boys showed up within twenty minutes, most of them carrying their backpacks. They greeted Benny, Bertram, DeNunez and me with more excitement than ever before. Yeah-Yeah, Tommy and Squints attacked me with hugs.

As promised, I was the first as bat. DeNunez smirked at me from the pitcher's mound, baseball behind his back.

I missed the first pitch. Naturally, Ham teased me. "Gettin' a little rusty, aren't you?"

As usual, Ham's taunting encouraged me. I held out my hand to DeNunez, then dropped the bat. With a small smile, I knelt to the ground, taking a handful of sand/dirt. I rubbed the cool substance on my hands, felt every bead drop from my grasp. Then I straightened my posture, grabbed Benny's bat, and got back into stance.

There was no need for words. DeNunez and I had developed some sort of special eye contact. He seemed to know what I was thinking, and I knew that he knew. This time, I thought, Give me your Heater.

DeNunez's eyebrows rose, and I nodded twice. The smirk on his lips grew into a smile, and he nodded, winding up.

The ball whizzed through the air – literally, I could hear the noise, as if the ball sliced through some invisible barrier. DeNunez had improved, and for a split second, I worried that I would reach a second strike.

But then I stepped forward and swung simultaneously, and the impact was so powerful, a tiny pain shot into my hand. The pain was nothing – clearly, I had suffered worse. At most, I would have a bruise between my thumb and index finger.

The baseball soared high in the air, a flash of pure white among the endless expanse of clear blue. Rather than watching the ball like the boys, I dropped the bat and ran. I wasn't surprised, though, to find that I hit a homer.

Benny, who covered third base, grabbed hold of me before I could run past him. I skidded to a stop, and with a forceful pull, Benny caused me to lose my balance. A gasp was the only noise I could muster.

Of course, Benny wouldn't let me fall. His strong arms wrapped around me – I didn't even have time to grab him – and he held me in place. Like a dance move, he held me in place, leaned over me with a grin, and kissed me.

"Come on!" Yeah-Yeah shouted, throwing his hands in the air and letting them flop to his sides. "We can't get through a game without you guys kissing in the middle of it!"

"Sorry, Yeah-Yeah," Benny replied, a gorgeous grin painted on his perfect face.

"You don't look very sorry," Yeah-Yeah grumbled, struggling to hide his smile.

"I'll get the ball!" Smalls yelled from the outfield, clearly having missed the kissing situation.

I pressed a kiss to Benny's warm cheek before completing my run. Ham awaited me at home, hand outstretched. I slapped his hand.

"Never doubted you for a second," Ham said, a goofy smile on his face.

♡

Hours passed, and the boys and I spent nearly every moment playing baseball. There was no doubt that we all enjoyed ourselves equally.

As the sun neared the edge of the sky, the boys and I took a break. The sweat that poured from us and the aching in our bones meant nothing. Our sore lungs were hardly a bother.

Benny seemed extra touchy-feely that day. On the bench of the dugout, he pulled my legs over his own, his arms wrapped around my waist. He pressed a few soft kisses to my cheek, and a couple to my lips.

The eighth time Benny kissed me – yes, I kept count – I laughed. "What's up with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"All these kisses. What're they for?"

Benny smirked. "Well, you told me I could kiss you any time I wanted. You said you wouldn't get tired of it. Having second thoughts?"

"No," I insisted, "of course not. I could never get tired of your lips. That sounded so cheesy – "

Benny cut me off with his lips, and I giggled. This time, I cupped his face, holding him in place. Naturally, the boy closest to us – DeNunez this time – sighed.

"You guys ever gonna grow out of that?" DeNunez asked. "I mean, really . . . You guys are always kissing. All the time."

I broke the kiss, and looked at DeNunez. "Benny started it."

"Yeah, I've noticed," DeNunez laughed.

All of a sudden, Squints yelled, "Oh, what's he doing here?"

Somehow, I knew who had arrived before another word was spoken. Benny's grip on my waist tightened. Sure enough, when my eyes averted to the entrance of the sandlot, I saw one boy riding his bike toward the dugout.

"Phillips," DeNunez grumbled, standing to his feet, along with the other boys.

Benny and I were the last to stand. We followed the boys toward Jordan, where he met us two-thirds of the way.

"Don't tell me he actually meant it," Benny mumbled. "He's a dumbass to show his face here right now."

I slipped my hand into Benny's, gripping onto his arm with the other. Frankly, I didn't know how to respond to him. Somehow, "Don't be mad because he told me he's in love with me" didn't seem sufficient.

Jordan let his bike drop to the ground at his side. His eyes flickered between every single boy, but his eyes lingered on me.

"What are you doing here, Phillips?" Ham demanded, tone dripping with venom.

"I came to make things right," Jordan answered, his eyes now set on Ham. "I know it didn't work out the last time, but – "

"And it won't work out this time either," Yeah-Yeah broke in.

"Just listen. All this time, I've done so much, and I could never balance it back out – unless you let me." Jordan actually seemed nervous. "Honestly, the reason I've never left you guys alone is because . . . I was jealous."

"Jealous?" Bertram shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah," Jordan mumbled, kicking at the ground, eyes downcast. "I know it sounds dumb, but . . . it's the truth. I see you all playing ball, and it seems fun. When I practice, when I'm playing a real game, I'm constantly told what to do, yelled at right in my ear. And you guys don't even have to worry about that, because you're playing for yourselves. You play ball just to play it, not to impress someone else.

"My dad is the one who wants me to play. He wants me to play so well, I get a scholarship and move onto the big leagues. And I love baseball, but I don't like how I'm forced into it. So . . . yes, I was jealous. That isn't any reason to act the way I did, and I know that. But I'm sorry. For the things I've said, for what I've done, for everything."

For a few moments, all was silent. The boys stared at Jordan, but my eyes landed on everything but him.

"Prove it," DeNunez finally spoke.

"What can I do?" Jordan asked.

DeNunez glanced at me, then back to Jordan. "First . . . don't cause any more problems. None at all. Second . . . I don't know. Use your imagination."

Jordan nodded. "I can do that."

Everyone was silent. Jordan's eyes landed on mine again, and my heart picked up its pace. Benny's grip on my hand tightened. But Jordan wasn't fazed. His lips were lightly pursed, as if searching for my approval.

Jordan already caught me looking at him, so I didn't look away. Rather than ignoring him, I sent him a single nod.

"Any more conditions?" Jordan inquired.

"Oh, yeah," Ham said. "We got plenty."

♡

The sky darkened to sapphire; on the opposite side of the sky, where the sun dipped below the horizon, golden light was cast. The sky was painted beautiful shades ranging from turquoise to blood red.

Benny and I walked hand-in-hand. Since Jordan left, he had calmed for the most part. However, the others couldn't seem to talk about anything else.

"I should have told him that he has to bring his whole team to kiss our butts," Ham said. "We could have made them our slaves."

"I don't think he'd go that far," Timmy pointed out. "I'm sure he doesn't care that much."

Tommy laughed. "They should all kiss our butts anyway."

"We should stop talking about him," Benny intervened. "You're making me wanna puke."