The Game of Softball: and the Greater...

The Game of Softball: and the Greater Issues of Life

Kat 
 
              Softball. Something I would not consider in my skill set. Totally and completely not my thing. But, I was blessed with a best friend who is a pitcher. A pitcher who needs a catcher. So, here I am, dressed in every kind of of pad and protector you could imagine. I'm not extremely coordinated, hence the protection overload, but I am not completely terrible either. Not all the time, anyway. People often walked past the park we practiced at, even though we usually didn't start until eight or nine at night. And despite the fact that people are not high up on my "Likes" list, I always stay, for her. I owe her that much. Normally, it was groups of guys our age, though I never recognized any of them from school, middle school kids breaking their curfew thinking it makes them cool, or adults walking their dogs. They sometimes (always, if they were guys our age) stopped to watch Rosa pitch, and if they came at the right time, they could even see me trying to pitch to her-yeah, that goes well. I was used to this, so I paid the three teenage boys watching us, okay watching Rosa, no attention.
  "Hand." She yelled over to me. She thought this was a hilarious way of saying 'take a five minute break.' Whenever I asked her why she said this, she said it's funny 'cause there are five fingers on a hand. She insists that it makes sense and giggles every time she says it. She had probably just spotted the guys.
  " Okay, thanks. Time." 'Time' meant 'about time.' We have tons of little inside jokes, we call it our code. I had just taken off the grimy face mask I was wearing when I heard the boys' approaching footsteps.
  "You know, if you are trying to impress guys, softball's not your ticket in, sweetheart." I looked up, appalled that someone would say that to Rosa, just to realize he didn't. He said it to me. He offered his hand to help me up. I stared at it for a minute. I stayed down for a second, taking in the situation. The boy talking to me was a couple inches taller than me with shaggy black hair. There was a boy with light brown hair already engaged in a conversation with Rosa, while another boy with short black hair stood against the fence with an expression somewhere between discomfort and boredom. I stood up.
  "Gee thanks for the advice," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "and if you are trying to impress girls, insults and stating the obvious isn't your ticket in. Sweetheart." I emphasized the last word, okay I was mocking him, but he deserved it. He stood there taken aback. He obviously didn't expect that response. By his attitude, I thought he was the kind of guy who is used to having girls falling head over heels for him, though I couldn't see the appeal. 'Not tonight, not me.' I thought to myself. I love it when arrogant boys look stupid because of independent girls. Maybe this would be different had it happened before the unveiling of 'the news.' Maybe, it would be easier, maybe it'd be fun. The news that had crushed my hopes and dreams, not that anybody had to know that. The news that meant I would not be able to live my life to its full potential. All because we didn't have the money. 'Gosh, this world is sick' I remember thinking to myself as I sat in the hospital bed. I remember the night, but not crystal clear. I remember what is important, what I need to remember. Nothing more. I try not to be too dramatic, too distressed, or even too aware of it. Out loud, at least. I heard Rosa's laugh and was jolted back into the situation at hand. I realized I was looking at the ground. I looked up at the boy; he didn't seem to know what to say. I stared at him and he stared right back.
  "Okay, you caught me." He said, holding his hands up the way criminals do when they are surrounded by the FBI. "Kind of. You pluralized it. However, it should not have been pluralized. 'If you are trying to impress girls' It's singular, I was only trying to impress one girl, you. I was trying to be clever, witty, so that you would like me. Apparently, I didn't think it through..it doesn't seem like it worked. I'm sorry." He said. I looked into his eyes, and then over at Rosa. She waved to me.
  "Great, just great." I whispered, he didn't seem to know what I said. Waving meant that she liked him. That she was anticipating something. I looked at the boy talking to her.
  "So, fierce catcher, what is your name?" He asked, continuing the conversation.
  "Uh, I'm Kat. Yes, like the animal except with a 'k'. And you?" I said, and looked around the field. I saw the third boy in the same spot he had been a minute ago. With the same expression. "Your friend looks bored." He ignored that.
  "I'm Marc Dante. Kat," he said, "nice name. It fits you." I looked at him.
"I didn't pick it, sorry to say." I said, he laughed. It was a nice laugh. Melodious. I looked at him again, really taking in his features. His pale skin, such a contrast to his black t-shirt and black hair, which I now realized must have been dyed. He was wearing jeans, and military-looking boots.
  "I know, I know. Two names," he said emphasizing the word 'two', "my parents gave me two names, and I that's what I go by." He just doesn't give up.
 
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Later that night, Rosa and I were in my bedroom talking and painting each others nails. She was painting mine black and I was painting her's red. We are opposites so we compliment each other quite well. We had been sitting there for a while before she brought up the boys.
"Well, I am genuinely surprised, Rosa." I said.
  "About...?"
  "That it took you this long to mention him. So--" I started
"Kat," she whined, " what's wrong with him?" I ignored her, not paying much attention to this comment.
  "What's his name?" I continued, she didn't seem to mind. Now that I was finished painting her nails, I leaned up against my bed.
  "Kai, and he is so cute! I mean, did you see him? He's from Hawaii. And he's a musician. And--" I had just realized what she had previously said.
"What made you think there was something wrong with him? Why did you jump to that conclusion?" I asked her. She looked confused, still caught up thinking about Kai.
"Oh, just you seemed like you were complaining. And you were using your annoyed-oh-not-this-again voice. That's all. Wait, does that mean you approve of him? Of maybe even--" I couldn't let her finish that question.
  "No." She seemed so excited, and the answer was automatic. It sounded mechanical. It sounded just like I was lying. Even I knew that. I was scaring myself.
  "No." I said quietly again, reassuring myself.
"Well, I think you do." She said. "I think--"
  "So Kai? A musician?" I prompted.
"Yeah, he's a musician. He's performing tomorrow night. I told him we might stop by. So, what do you think I should wear?" I just looked at her. "Oh, come on. Marc Dante will be there. And so will Raphael, I think." She said.
  "Who is Raphael?" I say, it was the only thing I could think of.
"You know. The kid by the fence. Black hair, cool shirt, you know." She answered.
"Oh, right."

Marc Dante

    "So you seemed really into that girl tonight," I was focused on making a word. X, Q, L, K, I, G, F.  I wasn't really paying attention to anything else.
  "Hey! Marc." I looked up at Kai.
"Yes...?" I asked, still going through words in my head.
"That girl. The catcher. You like her?" He seemed more serious than usual, more tense.
  "Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But--" I didn't get a chance to finish.
  "Good, because I invited her and Rosa to the show tomorrow." He said.
"Wait, what? Why? Why would you do that?" I panicked, forgetting about the game pieces in my hand. They went flying everywhere, all over the living room.
"Whoa, I suggest not doing that at the show. She'll think you're crazy." Ralph says.
  "Gee, thanks for the advice." The same thing Kat had said to me, a couple hours ago.  I turned to Kai. "Why'd you invite them, man. Isn't that a bit...stupid?" I asked him.
"No, it's not stupid. I like Rosa, and it seems like you like the other girl."
" Kat." Why'd I say that? They're gonna think I am crazy.
"What?" He looks confused.
" Kat. That's her name. Not 'that other girl.' It's Kat." I say. Awkward silence.
"Okay, sorry man. Well, I gotta go, you know my parents. If I'm not home in five minutes, I won't be allowed to perform tomorrow. Stupid rules..."
  "Okay, Kai. Bye." I said to hi as he kept on saying something about rules. Now, I'm the tense one.
"Thanks for coming Kai. Talk to you tomorrow." Raphael says as Kai walks out the front door. Throughout our childhood, most of our time was spent at Raph's. Now that he graduated, he moved into his own house. Well, his parent's own it, and it's just ten minutes from their house, but it's still his own house. He's a year older than us, me and Kai, so we love coming here.
  "Kat? Like the animal?" He asked me after a minute.
"Umm, yeah. Except with a 'k'." I repeated her words again.
  "You must really like her..." He said.
  "I do. But--" Again, I was not able to finish.
"I can tell."
  "Okay, anyway, but she doesn't like me. She's not interested." I explain.
  "And you're okay with that? You're gonna leave it like that? You think she doesn't like you, and maybe that's true, but only because she doesn't know you. You know? SO just let her get to know you. Tomorrow night, at the show, talk to her. Get to know her. Besides, maybe she was just having a bad day. And don't stress about it. You'll feel better soon. Get some sleep." He said. He was the go-to guy for pep talks.
  "Thanks, Raph. Can I stay here tonight?" I ask. I had enough to deal with, I didn't want to go home and deal with my parents.
  "Yeah, sure, of course." Always so generous. "I'm going up to bed now, though. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge."
  "Thanks." I clean up the game board, and the pieces from around. I grab a blanket, walk to the couch, and stretch out.





Still working on this one, too.