Page 39 of Left on Base

The purple fog from the smoke machines fills the batting cages where we’re taking photos, and I can’t help but think it’s fitting. Everything in my life right now feels hazy and out of focus.

“Smile!” a photographer calls out.

Sure, I’ll smile. Just don’t ask me what I’m smiling about, because honestly? I have no idea anymore.

The entire team is gathered together and I’m standing away from them, watching their interactions with one another. You may have noticed this by now, but I don’t have a lot of friends. I talk to Callie and Brynn, sometimes, and a few other friends I have at school, but I’m an introvert. I prefer to have meaningful connections with people and not fake friendships. I have no social media other than my athlete account on Instagram and I have DMs blocked.

Not because I don’t want to talk to anyone, but because it only creates drama and stress for me. I hate drama. For that reason, I keep to myself when I can. Which makes media day tough because while my teammates are doing the trendy TikToks with each other and snapping pictures of their day, I’m in the corner obsessing over why my screwball wasn’t breaking in warmups this morning. I’m thinking about that last fly ball I hit to centerfield in our last game and wondering why I was two feet away from a home run. I’m thinking about why my shoulder is sore after only one bullpen session this week. And… I’m obsessing over Jaxon now that I’m in the same room with Inez.

While I’m thinking about all that, Coach Drew approaches, his smile knowing. “Why are you smiling like that?”

I blink rapidly, as if I don’t know what he’s talking about. I didn’t realize I was smiling. “Like what?”

“Like you’re a hostage victim.”

“I feel like a hostage victim. I hate interviews.”

“Well.” He runs his hand down his graying jawline. “Don’t say anything I wouldn’t say.”

I’m going to say it. Coach Drew, our assistant head coach and way too old for me to be saying this, is incredibly attractive. Believe me when I say our entire team isn’t mad when he’s demonstrating a drill, if you know what I mean. He’s also married and has two adorable kids and a beautiful wife. Still, we stare at him a little longer than we need to.

“Do I have to do this?” I ask as he’s standing next to me. I'm still in my full uniform and I’m pretty sure they turned the heat up in here on purpose because it feels like my ass cheeks are dripping sweat. “I’m not good at talking.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” Coach Drew smiles and it looks like he should be the one on camera today. His teeth are perfectly aligned and bright white. I bet he has veneers. “You’re gonna be doing press all month next month so get used to it.”

I fan myself, because of the heat, not him. I swear. “Mhm.”

Brynn bounces over to us and grins at Coach Drew. “I’ll do the interview. I’m good at them. I’m also really funny.”

Coach Drew pushes her away. “You’re banned since you told ESPN you had to poop and that’s why you were late.” The way he says “poop” like it’s a forbidden word makes me burst out laughing.

“Well, it was true.” Brynn stares at him like he’s crazy. “I did have to.”

He rolls his eyes. “The world did not need to know.”

“You know you love me,” she tells him, trying to pinch his cheeks.

Brynn shrugs. “He loves me.”

I smile and pat her shoulder. “Mhm.”

They have a love-hate relationship, but clearly I’m his favorite.

“Gurllll.” Brynn’s eyes widen. “I forgot to tell y’all about my night.” I glance around to see who she’s talking to when she says y’all but it’s just me.

“Oh yeah?”

“I met this girl at a party and she sells her panties for money.”

“Wait, what?” I turn my head slowly back to her. “Like ones she wears?”

“Yeah.” She nods, and then keeps nodding. I don’t like the way her eyes hint that she’s considering doing this herself. “She’s paying her way through college by selling her panties. She wears them to class, then ships them out to dudes on the internet.”

“Uh, like for real? Was she serious?”

“Yeah.” Brynn’s eyes widen, as if she either can’t believe it, or she’s contemplating doing this herself. “It’s genius.”

Okay, so she’s thinking about selling her dirty panties on the internet. Cool. “Uh, maybe don’t do that. You’re an athlete. Pretty sure that’s not a good idea on so many levels. The NCAA would literally kill you.”

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