I

"Miles, we really should go down to breakfast," I said softly.

We were tangled on my bed. My legs were laced with his as my head rested on his chest. The kissing had gone for another twenty minutes after we had confessed what we had been holding back for a while. We had eventually moved over to my bed before just laying beside each other quietly. Every once in a while, Miles would drop a kiss on my head.

It was relaxing to just lay on Miles's chest, listening to his breathing and heart beat. His arms were wrapped around me lazily, bringing me close to him. It was all so surreal, however. It was like a snap of my fingers that this all happened. There was no questioning or anything. We went straight to the point of where we wanted to be.

We were already late to breakfast because of Miles's resistance from leaving bed and letting go of me. I couldn't protest much to his plans, but my stomach was having its own rebellion, making itself very clear.

"Do we have to?" he groaned.

"You don't have to, but I'm going with or without you," I replied, making a move to get up.

Miles's leg was suddenly thrown over me to keep me from going anywhere. His arms tightened to squish me against his chest even more.

"No, you're not going anywhere," he strictly instructed.

I couldn't help but laugh at his immaturity from keeping me from going anywhere. It was like as soon as both of us had finally confessed what we had been holding secret, we started acting the real way we had been wanting to. Before, it was a more mild and toned down version of this, but now we were really acting like we cared for each other.

"I'm hungry, and you have yet to experience me being hungry," I warned as I attempted to push his leg off of me.

"I'm hardly afraid of you, Little One."

"Little One? I'm 5'3 that's not that little."

"Are you kidding me? You're like a midget. Anything shorter than 5'5 is pretty short anyway."

"Midget? And that doesn't mean I'm not scary," I retaliated.

"Oh, you're so scary. You put fear into my very soul," Miles said dramatically, clutching at his heart to add his emphasis.

"I should," I complained, poking him in the chest.

"Whatever, you say, Princess."

I finally successfully pushed his leg off of me, freeing my body from his tight hold. I squirmed up from the mattress and slid off the end of the bed. Raising my hands over my head, I yawned and stretched my arms. The tank top I was wearing rode up to above my belly button.

"You better pull down that shirt before I pull you right back over here," Miles warned from the bed. His hands clasped, arms folded behind his head.

I kept my arms over my head defiantly, maybe even stretching them more. I raised my eyebrows and couldn't help but smirk at him. There was just something about teasing him that made me a little silly around him.

"Wow, testing the boundaries, are we?" he questioned, sitting up.

"I didn't know there were boundaries," I contradicted after bringing my arms down from above my head. I turned to go to the dresser to pull out clothes for practice today. The bed creaked and groaned behind me. I knew Miles was getting out of bed, but I kept my back to him. After I picked out what I needed for the day, I folded them into my arms to get ready to head to the bathroom to change.

Miles's hands suddenly slid around my back to rest on my hips, pulling me gently back towards him. His chin was dropped down to be almost resting on my shoulder.

"Do we have to practice today?" he whined again.

"Miles, the playoffs are less than a week away. Yes, we need to go to practice," I explained, tucking my clothes into my arms.

"I rather just stay in here with you all day," Miles said cheekily.

I looked up at him and rolled my eyes. Always the charmer.

"Maybe another day," I said simply.

He pressed a kiss on my cheek, close to my ear before letting go. "We will."

I spun away from him and went out the door without another word from him.

It was about 15 minutes before I made my way back to our room to grab my hat and Nikes.

Miles was just pulling his shirt over his head when I walked in.

"You ready?" I asked, slipping on my trainers.

"Yep. Let's go."

Miles and I exited the room and headed towards the elevator to get downstairs.

As we waited for the elevator to come get us, it dawned on me that this new "relationship" or whatever it is is probably not going to go over well with anyone. It could totally mess up the team dynamics that we've finally stabilized. Plus, it was too awkward for two teammates to date openly with so much at stake right now. Maybe this wasn't the right time to be doing something like this. There was no way I could be selfish and jeopardize my team's chances at winning the tournament or messing up this great season we were having. At the same time, I found someone who made me unbelievably happy all the time. I also didn't want to mess up something for Miles with leading him on. Miles cared about me more than any boy I had ever met and he did so before any of this new found relationship started.

When we both stepped into the elevator, I turned to Miles. His green eyes flickered over to me and rested on my face. I couldn't help but smile softly at him. He returned with his own grin that stretched across his face.

"Miles..."

"What's wrong, Princess?"

"This might sound completely crazy, but we can't be open about this relationship in front of the team right now. It could easily mess up this season, and it's just not the right time. I think it's best if we kept this a secret," I explained softly.

There was a few moments of silence before he spoke.

"I understand. Let's keep it private for now," he summarized. He was slightly hesitant with his reply, but seemed to be sticking with what he said quite well. There were no second guessing looks.

I couldn't suppress the relieved smile. He got it and knew exactly what this relationship could do to the team. There was so many reasons I had begun to like Miles in the first place, but many of his intangible qualities that were so amazing were highlighted everyday.

The corners of his mouth lifted into a lopsided grin that made me smile wider.

"I can still do this though, since we're alone." He quickly swooped down and captured my lips with his own for a quick peck.

"You better be careful there, mister," I warned, stepping off the elevator.

"What are you going to do about it?" he said snidely behind me.

I bit my lip and glanced over my shoulder to throw him a sharp look.

"Who knows?" I replied vaguely.

"You trying to threaten me or something?" he asked.

"Just giving you a warning," I trailed off.

"A warning?"

"Yeah. So I would suggest stop asking all the questions, and keep your mouth shut and hands to yourself, if you want to keep all your limbs in tack."

"You are kind of scary," Miles mumbled, half to himself.

"You're just witnessing the extreme version because I'm hungry, so my blood sugar is low."

"Fair enough."

We stepped in to the cafeteria finally after a short trek through the heat outside. The air conditioning sent a cool blast over my face, which chilled the thin layer of sweat that already formed on my forehead. The waft of French toast floated into my nose as I took another step inside.

I couldn't help but let out a hum of satisfaction at the smell of one of my favorite breakfast foods.

"Hey, over here!" a chorus of voices called. I couldn't help but grin as I followed the source of noise to our team waving their arms wildly at us.

Miles and I made our way over to the 14 of them, wolfing down their breakfasts.

"What took you guys so long?" Harrison asked with a mouth full of French toast. I rolled my eyes at his still immature behavior.

"Harrison, swallow your food before you talk," I warned him, sounding like the mother I have been acting like towards him for the entire camp.

"Yeah, we've been sitting here for forever," Danny whined with, surprise, a mouth full of food.

"Danny, I usually only have to mother and tell the thirteen year old to mind his manners. Not the seventeen year old," I snipped at him.

"You can be my mommy anytime you want, Glors," Danny smirked up at me with a suggestive grin.

"Grow up," I snapped playfully, giving him a smack upside the head.

I turned around and saw Miles glaring at Danny.

"And you can call me Daddy anytime you want," Danny said softer, more directed towards the table. The fourteen of them laughed at his immature joke.

"I heard that," I called over my shoulder, silencing the giggles.

Miles's glare at the back of Danny's head only seemed to intensify.

"It's alright, Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor. I can handle myself," I reassured him. I laid a soft hand on his abdomen to regain his focus on me. The hand to his stomach was somewhat for a reassurance, but not going to lie, I have wanted to lay a hand on his abs since the second I saw him shirtless in our room the first day.

He looked down at me, which softened his gaze until he turned around to go to the breakfast line. I followed closely behind him to get my much awaited for French toast.

"You know I can defend myself, right? Danny doesn't bother me," I prodded him as we entered the kitchen serving line.

"I kept my mouth shut," Miles defended, grabbing a plate.

"You looked like you were slowly killing him with your eyes," I laughed.

"So?"

I gave him a light smack to the arm and smiled softly.

"Good morning, Gloria," Carol called from behind the counter.

I grinned at the graying cafeteria lady warmly. Carol had become like my grandmother in the last several weeks. Everyone's grandmother cooks for them and Carol does just that. Not only does she look after me when I'm in the lunch line, but I never leave the cafeteria hungry or not feeling stuffed to the brim.

"Hi, Carol," I chirped.

"And who is this?" she queried from behind the counter. Her eyes drifting to Miles.

"This is Miles. He's one of my teammates," I explain. "Miles, this is Carol."

Miles gives her one of his infamous boyish grins before reaching out his hand to shake her own.

Carol shakes his hand and smiles gently back at him. She then piles our plates high with French toast, bacon, and eggs.

"Thank you, Carol," Miles called before exiting the kitchen line to get juice and syrup from the condiments' table.

Carol waved at him, and when his back was to us, she raised her eyebrows at me with a smirk on her face. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I don't know how she did it, but Carol knew right away what was going on between a certain tall blonde and me.

After giving her a small wave, I followed the way Miles took. Right outside the exit door of the kitchen serving line was the table that had the condiments, silverware, and drinks for that particular meal. A small wall ran parallel to it, so if you were sitting in the cafeteria, you couldn't see in to the three-walled room.

Miles was setting syrup packets on his plate when I set down my breakfast down to pour myself a glass of orange juice.

"You gonna mind your manners this time?" I ask, filling my cup up three-fourths of the way.

"I'll try my best," he sighed before pouring himself his own glass of juice.

"They don't mean any of the stupid stuff they say."

"I know. I just don't like them saying stuff like that to you."

"You never said anything before about it."

"I never said anything, but I was wringing their necks in my head anytime they said that stuff."

"Thank you for sticking up for me in your head. I deeply appreciate that."

"I just didn't want to-" Miles began. His voice sounded flustered. Before he could continue though, I stood on my tippy toes and yanked his shirt to pull his head down for me to press a short kiss to his lips.

It was just a peck, but his lips were addicting. I would have gladly kept going, but the last thing I wanted was for one of our teammates to find us making out when they were just coming to find more syrup.

When I pulled myself back, Miles kept our foreheads so close that they touched softly.

"You really know how to make me feel better," he whispered with a slow smirk.

"You were getting a little flustered, so I thought it might help you chill out," I replied nonchalantly.

"I thought you said that we had to keep this a secret."

"That's why I kept it short and behind this handy wall."

"Will we continue this more later?" he asked hopefully.

"Maybe," I answered vaguely before turning away from him with my cup and plate in hand. I made my way back to the table with Miles in tow.

"Gloria," Harrison called, pointing at an open chair next to him that he had reserved for me. He was just so adorable that I couldn't take it sometimes. Why can't all teenage boys be more like Harrison?

I sat down in the chair next to him and smiled at him. On the other side of me was Dylan, who greeted me with a friendly good morning.

Miles took the only other open seat, which happened to be at the opposite end. Jackson sat on one side of him and Nate sat on the other.

"Gloria?" a voice called.

"Hm?" I reluctantly pulled my eyes away from Miles across the table.

"I said your name like four times," Harrison said with a giggle.

"Sorry, I was a bit zoned out. What's wrong?" I covered.

"What took you so long to get down here?" he asked, suspicion still slightly in his eyes.

I racked my brain for a believable answer.

"We-uh I-um," I stumbled along waiting for something to magically pop into my brain. Come on, come on. Think. "I forgot to set my alarm," I finally rushed out. That was probably the lamest thing I could say, but it's out there now.

"Oh, okay." Harrison didn't seem to question my lie, so I let out a mental sigh of relief that I had been holding this whole time.

I glanced up and caught Miles's eye. His lips pulled into a soft smile that was barely noticeable, but I couldn't help but grin stupidly back.

...

I threw the ball across the field in to Miles's glove for the hundredth time that day. My fingers ached from gripping the ball and having the laces dry out my fingertips. The dry skin was cracking by my nails, leaving broken blood vessels at the corners of the cuticles. My fingers were turning red and purple under the skin.

It was the last part of practice, and we have been doing infield for a solid half an hour. Coach had been hitting me ground balls over and over again all over the left side of the field. Walker had more or less lost the starting position at shortstop because of all the errors. Surprisingly, he wasn't taking it very hard. He seemed slightly more relaxed at practice. Coach was no longer scrutinizing his every move like he was doing to me right now. To be honest, it was stressful to know that every mistake you make was being watched by the guy who calls all the shots.

Another ball was hit in my direction after I got a short mental break while he hit a grounder to Dylan at second base and Miles at first. It took a few large hops spinning off slightly to my right. I reached down and grabbed it with a backhand and tossed it over to first.

The sweat was pouring off my forehead and into my eyes. What can I say? I have always been a huge sweater. My mom and dad passed it to me since they were pretty vigorous athletes. The humidity and beating down of the sun was not helping in the least bit either. As much as I liked to keep my fingertips a little bit sticky with spit to grip the ball, my hands were slick with sweat.

As crazy as it sounds, before each play, I lick my fingertips to soften my dry finger pads. It overall helped me grip the ball better. However, in this situation, my hands were so sweaty that it was hard to not let the ball just slip out of your grip.

"Alright, guys, let's call it a day. Bring it in," Coach finally called.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I jogged towards home plate with everyone else.

"It's time. This is our last full practice before we start tournament play. We seeded ourselves fairly well with how we played all season. I know our ranking was in the top five. I received the brackets and instructions of how the tournament is going to work from the directer yesterday. Since we are in the top five, we get a first round bye, which basically means that our team plus the four other teams in the top five don't have to play the first round. Everyone else will be playing today and tomorrow, though. The tournament is double elimination style. Once you lose twice, you are moved to the lower bracket to keep playing. Does anyone have any questions?" Coach explained.

"When's our first game?" Jackson asked.

"We start on Tuesday," he answered, looking at his clipboard with the brackets printed on it.

"What's our schedule for tomorrow and Monday?" Anthony interjected.

"Tomorrow, we'll have a light hitting session, and pitchers will throw about twenty minutes of bullpen. I decided that we'll spend the night up where we'll playing on Monday night. I've rented another bus to take us to the hotel on Monday afternoon. I'll give you more details tomorrow at hitting."

Most of us nod our heads in confirmation.

It was weird to think that we only had about two and a half weeks longer at this camp. It was three-fourths of the way done already. I looked around the tight group of guys and realized I was really going to miss all of them. I had spent every single day for six weeks now with them. They had become my family and friends for the entire summer. As annoying and difficult they could be sometimes, I couldn't imagine spending my summer any other way.

"So, everyone needs to be here at 5 tomorrow for hitting. And you can wear shorts," Coach sighed.

Everyone cheered at the last comment. The entire last six weeks had been spent in our hot, itchy pants except for weight training and conditioning. Even when Coach only had batting practice that day, we were required to wear pants.

"You guys are dismissed. Goodbye. Gloria, hold on a sec."

I turned around to look back at Rust. Couldn't lie, I was a little nervous that he was calling me back. Even though, I did well in the game he finally put me in, I was nowhere close to one of his favorites on this team.

"What's up, Coach?" I asked timidly, walking back to him.