Page 61 of Left on Base

Emerson laughs at Callie. “Did Jaxon give you the good seats again?”

I glance at Callie—now holding a hot dog. Figures. “Oh, uh.” I pause. Jaxon’s family always sits near home plate. “I hardly call these bad seats, Em. You see all the action from here.”

“Yeah but my view is my brother’s ass most of the time.” She scrunches her nose. “I’d rather not.”

Not gonna lie, I wouldn’t mind that view for two hours. Wait, did I say that out loud? Thank God for internal monologues.

The game’s about to start so I hug them all. “I’ll come find you guys after.”

Squeezing through the crowd, I sit with Callie.

She smiles. “How’d that go?”

“Good. They still love me.”

She snorts, squirting mustard on her hotdog like abstract art. “Did you really doubt it?”

“Maybe a little.” I fidget with Jaxon’s hoodie, nerves all over the place. If I’m this anxious now, how the hell am I going to make it through this game?

Let me know if you have any ideas because I’m open. Power outage? Alien invasion? Anything to distract from the fact that I’m wearing his hoodie while his maybe-something is in the student section.

“Why do hot dogs taste so good?” Callie hands hers to me to finish. Why she buys food she won’t eat baffles me. She’s personally offended by leftovers.

I look at the hot dog and at her. “That’s all you’re eating?”

Her brows knot. “Yes?”

“Cal.” I groan. “You waste so much food.”

“I’m sorry.” Her nose wrinkles. “It tastes weird.”

“What did you expect? It’s a hot dog. Not even real meat.”

She blinks. “It’s not?”

How is she in AP classes, honestly?

I wonder this a lot. She’s book smart, but not meant for the streets. The girl once asked if fish needed to drink water. I wish I was joking.

“Oh my God. No. Hot dogs are like ground up meat leftovers.”

She grabs her nachos. “At least these are real cheese.”

Shhh. Don’t tell her. There are things in life she doesn’t need to know. Like the truth about nacho cheese. And Santa Claus. And, honestly, how babies are made—I’m starting to wonder after the hockey game.

Just as I take a bite of her hot dog, Jaxon takes the field, catching mask in hand. He glances up at the seats above the dugout—right at me, mouth full of hot dog. Classy.

He smirks. I roll my eyes. “Of course he looks up when I’ve got a mouthful of meat.”

Callie laughs. “Could be worse.” She wipes her lips. “I have cheese on mine.”

She’s still licking cheese sauce from her fingers when Jameson steps out of the dugout. “Crap. He’s looking at me.”

You wanna know who I look at next as Jaxon squats behind home plate?

Inez, to see if she caught Jaxon’s attention on me.

She’s too far to be sure, but definitely watching this way. Not gonna lie, part of me hopes she sees him look at me. Is that petty? Absolutely. Do I care? Not even a little.

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