There were clouds in the sky. Clouds in the sky. Clouds. Clouds that were available to block the sun from roasting us as we stood along the curb waiting for our bus.

Over the course of the entire camp, I can not think of a time when there was a substantial amount of clouds in the sky. Every day it seemed like all of the blue of the sky was on full display. Today was different and came with many sighs of relief whenever a cloud drifted by the sun, shading the ground below it.

We had been standing at the curb for the bus for ten minutes. All the times we had to travel to different fields to play, we were never late to the bus pickup area. No one wanted to take the risk of being late, so we arrived ten minutes ahead of schedule.

"Gloria, Gloria." Harrison was poking at my shoulder repeatedly. "Look, it might storm today." He pointed to a far corner of the sky, and he was right. Large dark clouds were rolling in the sky.

"First time all summer," I muttered, watching the far corner of the sky.

Suddenly, there was a low rumbling; however, not from the sky, but from the bus that was coming down the street towards us.

A chorus of whoops left the group as the bus pulled up to the curb and its doors swung open.

"Load your stuff first," Coach yelled, off the bus steps before any of us could get inside.

We all warily put our things in the bottom compartments of the bus, then loaded on to the usual charter bus we take to games.

For every away game, we piled on to the same charter bus that was assigned to our team. Each team had their own, which was provided by the university. All the buses were used for sporting purposes during the school year. Coach kept the routine for every away trip the same. He always made us load all the equipment and our bags under the bus before we got on. He never seemed to help us load or unload on any of the trips, no surprise. We all sat in the same seats every time with our roommates to keep attendance and seating arrangements easier for Rust.

He always chose the easiest route for himself.

So with this plan still in place, I marched down the aisle with my pillow pet tucked under my arm to my usual seat. Miles followed behind me and sat down beside me.

It was different now though. We weren't just teammates or friends. We were something more. The tension in the air was definitely something else.

"Where are we even going anyway?" Miles asked, craning his head to look over the seats.

"Victory Fields, I think. It's like four hours away," I recalled from yesterday's team huddle after hitting.

"Four hours?" Miles questioned, obvious shock in his voice.

"Yeah."

"Alright, whatever. Least you're sitting next to me," he draws out.

I couldn't help but smile softly at that comment. "You're such a kiss ass."

"Only your ass, Princess," he whispered in my ear.

I sent a hard smack to his shoulder before shooting him a sharp look. "And you're a freaking pervert."

"Me?" Miles gasped, pointing at himself.

"Yes, you," I yelped, crossing my arms over my chest.

I could have been making a bit of a scene, but he was just being gross.

"Gloria, what's wrong?" Jackson suddenly appeared from above the back of the seat.

"Miles is being disgusting," I pouted.

"Dude, leave her alone," Jackson told him, giving Miles a smack on the head

"What's with all the hitting?" Miles complained. He put his arms over his head to shield from any more of Jackson's and I's attacks.

"Just cool it, or I'm going to make you switch with me, so you'll be sitting next to the kid who doesn't shut up," Jackson warned.

"I heard that," Danny chimed in from behind us.

"Oh, God. Please don't do that to me," Miles protested.

"Guys, I'm not deaf." Danny popped his head up over my seat.

"I can sit next to Danny," I suggested, trying to get a bit of a rise out of Miles. Yes, it was stupid to tease him, but this was a bit of payback from his little inappropriate comment earlier. I don't exactly want to not sit next to Danny, but in case we do switch, I can usually have a pretty interesting conversation with him, once we get past all the sexual references and comments. Danny has a lot of cool stories that I have gotten to hear. Most of them were pretty hilarious as well. I found that Miles and Jackson appeared in some of these tales.

"No!" Miles burst out. All three of us stared at him for his sudden response. Jackson and Danny looked at him with confused faces. I could barely keep the tiny smirk off my face. "I mean," Miles sputtered, realizing his mistake, "Don't do that to Gloria. I'll behave."

I held back at chuckle at his lame excuse. Definitely got a rise out of him.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever, man," Danny said with obvious suspicion.

Jackson and Danny sat back down after giving the two of us one final questioning look.

As soon as they were back behind us and we were again hidden from view, Miles twisted around to give me a look.

"You think you're funny?" he snapped, seeing that I had my hand clamped over my mouth to contain the giggles.

"I think I'm pretty hilarious," I replied.

Miles was almost too easy now that I knew what buttons to push to make him a little crazy. His responses were not only hysterical but also adorable. After Danny's obvious suspicion about Miles's little outburst, I probably needed to be a little more careful of when I decide to mess with my roommate.

"I'll get you back," Miles threatened. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

"Whatever you say." With not much thought about his more or less, empty threat, I stretched my legs out across the seat to rest across Miles's lap.

"Do you really think now I'm just going to let you lay all over me?" he questioned, looking down at my legs that were comfortably set on him.

I poked my lip slightly out and gave him my best puppy eyes. "Are you really going to make me move?" I fluttered my eyelashes and sat up to get closer. I placed my right hand on his arm softly and rubbed circles in to his shirt with my thumb.

Miles bit his lip lightly before glancing at me. I could see him slowly caving as I made the circles in his shoulder slower.

"Alright, fine. Just stop looking at me like that," he huffed, slouching back in his seat.

I smirked before placing my pillow pet behind my head and snuggling in. Only moments later, Miles's fingers found the cuff of my to-the-knee yoga pants and began fiddling with the hem.

As easily as I could get him to be a pushover, I knew I was about the only one here that could make him do things that I wanted so quickly. My eyes began to shut as Miles traced methodical horizontal lines along bottom of my knee.

...

"Gloria. Princess," a soft voice called from what seemed like very far away. "Princess, we're here."

I arched my back and stretched my legs out away from me. Opening one eye very slowly, I grew accustom to the harsh sunlight.

"What?" I yawned, trying to gain more of my surroundings. Eventually, my other eyelid pulled open as well.

Miles's green eyes and blonde hair slowly came into view. A lopsided grin that showed his perfect white teeth slid over his face. As sleepy as I was, my own lips seemed to tug into a closed mouth smile that matched his. "Good afternoon, Sunshine," he said softly.

"What time is it?" I rubbed both eyes with the heels of my hands.

"It's 4:30," Miles chuckled.

4:30? Were we already at the hotel? Confused, I propped up on to my hands to look out the bus window behind me.

"Where are we?" I asked, scanning the large parking lot we were stopped in. A strip mall was off to the right and a few restaurants and a bank littered the left part of the parking lot.

"Everyone went inside to get dinner," Miles explained.

I finally realized that there was no extra noise from the other guys.

"I swear to god, if Rust is taking us to another Hooter's, I'm not leaving this bus," I snapped, twisting my neck around to look for the offensive orange sign with the owl eyes.

My comment and frantic searching only made Miles laugh in response. "Don't worry. He did not pick a Hooter's this time."

As you could probably tell, Coach had the audacity to decide to bring us to a Hooter's after our last away game. I had never been to one in my life before then, so I wasn't sure exactly what to expect. Yes, I had seen the commercials for it with the inappropriately dressed waitresses and dozens of biker gang guys sitting at the bar, drinking a beer. I thought this was just advertising for the restaurant to bring in more customers. My mom and I had no reason to ever go in to that type of sports bar, so I had no proof that the advertising they showed was anything close to the real deal.

Well, much to my surprise, the commercials were spot on. As soon as we walked through the wooden doors, a half a dozen raunchy dressed Hooter's girls came into view. Their itty bitty orange shorts that barely covered anything and white tank tops that followed suit made my nose scrunch in disgust. I couldn't believe that Coach had actually brought his high school age team to this restaurant.

When we were seated, the guys could not stop looking around to catch another view of the illy clothed Barbie dolls walking around. I sat on one of the ends, not wanting anything to do with being in the middle of a bunch of squirmy high school boys. Our waitress of course, had been a leggy blonde. Every time she leaned over the table to get something, everyone at the entire table got a full view of what was going on in her tight tank top.

Not to mention, that she took every chance she could leaning over the table. Even when she turned around, almost every single one of the guys sat up a little straighter to see just how short and tight her shorts were. After she was gone, they all formed into their little groups to admire our "wonderful" waitress.

As much as Danny kept going on and on about how "nice" she was, especially when she was in hearing distance, the girl was not the sharpest knife in the drawer or nicest for that matter. I don't know how many times we had to repeat our drink and food orders to her before she finally wrote it down. Even so, my easy cheeseburger and a side of seasonal vegetables came out as a salad. Yes, a salad. When I had asked her about it before she left to grab the other plates of food, she was sure that I had ordered a salad because "I was girl." I about smacked the girl right then and there if Dylan, who was sitting next to me, didn't grab on to my shoulders before I lunged at her.

When she did finally go back to the kitchen to grab other people's meals, I got up and left without any excuse. Luckily, there was a Panda Express two restaurants down that I grabbed my dinner from instead.

Moral of the story: I will never be caught dead in a Hooter's again.

When Miles did say that Coach did not pick a Hooter's, I breathed out a sigh of relief. My shoulders relaxed and released from being tensed at practically my ears. "Good," I mumbled, sitting up straighter.

"You ready?" Miles asked, motioning down the aisle to the open doors of the bus.

I took my legs from Miles's lap and stretched my arms over my head. "Sure," I yawned out.

Instead of making a move out of our row of seats, Miles leaned towards me to press his lips against mine in a slow kiss that left me a bit dizzy. He pushed his hand in to my thick mane of hair and set the other at my waist. He caught me so off guard that all I could do was kiss him back in response. When Miles pulled back, a smirk was prominent on his face.

"You're adorable when you're mad," was all he said before sliding off his seat.

I sat in my seat for a split second longer, stunned by his sudden actions. Nevertheless, I didn't mind them in the least. After collecting my thoughts, I scurried out of the bus after him towards the Texas Roadhouse that Coach chose this time.

Country music seeped out of the speakers that were drilled in to the walls in different places in the restaurant. All the walls were made of boards of wood and booths were cubbied in to the walls. TVs were playing different sports games in the bar area.

"This way," Miles tugged at my arm, leading me back to a large booth with the rest of the team. Miles slid in to the faux leather seats first, then I slid in beside him.

I was on the end again, which everyone at this table knew I liked. Being squished between all these guys during a meal was not my thing. In the cafeteria, the seats were individual, so I had some personal space, but booths were not okay for me. Additionally, at restaurants, I sucked down my drink faster than I should, causing the waiter to bring me more and more, which I continue to drink at an alarming rate. Basically, every time I go out to eat, I use the bathroom at least three times.

"Look at that. Sleepyhead finally woke up," Eli teased from across the table.

I smiled at him, shaking my head. Eli had been doing a good job catching when Coach put him in. Eli split the catching time with Markus, who was also a phenomenal catcher. I always felt confident about who was catching the game because both of them were so good.

"You were out pretty much the entire ride," he continued, pushing back his long black bangs that would sometimes hang in his eyes. His lips were curved in to his signature smile. Although the stereotypical catcher was a bit bigger, Eli was pretty much skin and bones. He was tiny in the muscle mass category; however, he was pretty tall and lanky.

Markus on the other was what you expected out of a catcher. He was a bigger guy, but his legs were incredibly strong and muscular. The guys sometimes made fun of him because he was probably the biggest guy on the team. Markus is Filipino and his mom I found out, is first generation. She apparently doesn't speak much English, but makes up for it by feeding her son very well. Markus promised that one day he will invite all of us over for a Filipino dinner at his house. We were told to expect not leaving with an even partially empty stomach.

"Any kind of car or bus rides make me sleepy," I defended, picking up the menu in front me.

"We ordered you a water, by the way, Gloria," Walker piped up, pulling my attention away from the choices of food.

"Thank you." Every time we had gone out for a meal, I ordered water. I was not much of a soda drinker at all because of the sugary aspect of it.

"Did you get me a Pepsi then?" Miles questioned, looking around the table.

No one replied, but ducked their heads and scratched the back of their necks.

"Really?" Miles prodded. "Jackson? Danny? Nathan? You guys know exactly what I drink."

"Sorry, dude. I guess we forgot," Nathan said sheepishly.

Miles huffed in annoyance. I snickered quietly at the team's forgetfulness of Miles. I was respected by all of them now and it felt good. At the beginning, I was the oddball out and just in general, the outcast. My social skills are mediocre but not terrible, which might of helped me a little with winning them over. I felt much more confident going in to games because I knew the fifteen of them, including Rust, would actually stick up for me. When another team tries to pull something stupid, they always have my back and are more willing to throw a first punch than I am.

"Water?" the waiter of our table came back with my glass of water in hand.

"Right here. Thank you," I answered, raising my hand up slightly.

He turned to place the water on my beverage coaster but looked slightly bewildered when he saw who was speaking.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked.

"Just didn't expect a girl with all these guys," the waiter said truthfully. On his name tag, the name Andy was printed. The surprised look eventually faded from his features.

"Most people don't."

"What are you doing with these guys then?" he pressed. Yes, the question was a bit nosy, but I didn't mind answering.

"We're all on the same baseball team," I explained.

"You play baseball?" he questioned, surprised.

"That's what she said, man," Miles said, cutting in to answer for me.

"Just surprising," Andy replied.

"Well, she's really good, so it's not surprising that she's on this team," Eli chimed in.

"She's a pretty kickass shortstop," Danny added.

Oh, God. Here we go. As I was saying before with the whole sticking up for me thing, they constantly were on my side. However, sometimes they don't realized what's my own battle and what's not even a battle to begin with. The group seemed to have misread this situation. I wasn't trying to defend myself against this guy. He was just being curious and now, he was going to be eaten up by the sixteen headed dragon that suddenly appeared at the table.

All of them felt the need to pipe up with something else, but I finally cut them off by telling Andy we needed a few more minutes.

He walked away, looking happy to get away from the crazy that is my team.

"Would you guys knock it off?" I hissed across the table, making eye contact with each guy. "He was just curious."

"He was making it sound like you weren't good enough because you're a girl," Dylan defended the group.

"Most people are surprised to hear that a girl is playing a traditional boy sport, so calm down. You guys did the same thing for the first quarter of camp. I'll let you guys know when I need some back up," I explained, keeping my voice even.

They all mumbled their fines, and I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that there will hopefully be no fights.

I looked back down at my menu to find something to get for lunch. Not a second after reading through some of the options, I felt a hand come to rest on my knee. I knew exactly who's hand that was. Peeking out of the corner of my eye, I snuck a look over at Miles next to me. His eyes hadn't lifted from the menu that sat in front of him. He did have a tiny smirk that lifted up a corner of his lips. I glanced around at everyone else to see if they were looking this way.

The team had their heads buried in the plastic menu or in the screens of their phones. No one could see his hand because of the table, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem.

It was a pretty cute secretive gesture that made me relax a little more.

After a few more minutes, I decided on the barbecue chicken and a sweet potato.

Andy eventually came back to the table with a bit of hesitation. I would be a little anxious too, trying to wait on a table of fifteen guys who take everything way too offensively.

"Ladies first," he did manage to get out, looking at me.