Page 81 of The Battery
I did. I over-expanded. Blessedly, all the pain was gone and doing so didn’t cause me to wince. It did feel distinctly awkward to over-inflate my lungs and I fumbled the throw. I nodded in understanding. “Okay. Yeah. I gotcha.” I adjusted and threw again. It felt right.
“Perfect. Excellent. You’re a mechanics man, Cody. You don’t need much to set you on the right course. It’s impressive.” He stopped parallel to where I stood. “Okay. This next part. You might feel awkward but trust me, okay?”
“What’s up?”
“Take off your shirt. I’m gonna try and stand as close as I can.”
I hesitated for a moment but leaned into the trust we had built over the months. Unceremoniously, I peeled off my t-shirt and tossed it on the ground. Back to throwing balls. He stood diagonally from me and uncomfortably close. Not in the sense that I didn’t wanthimnear, it was just that a pitcher had a lot of power when throwing and you could hurt someone. Like swinging a golf club when standing right beside someone.
“I’d record this but that might make you feel awkward,” Leo said after I threw three times. “I’d need to see it in slow-motion. But… There’s a slight asymmetry in the muscle activation around your chest. The trainers said this would happen, other muscles compensating for disuse because of the ribs.”
I looked down at my chest. I wasn’t as sculpted as Leo, but I was a professional athlete and didn’t look awful shirtless. I traced my obliques with my thumb. “How do I fix that?”
“Nonstop practice. I’d say you just keep throwing fastballs. Get that muscle memory dialed in. Your body will remember, and all the muscles will settle back to what they’re used to.” He walked around me. “Keep throwing. I’ll be right back.”
I groaned. He probablywasgoing to record me with his phone so he could see the literal muscle activations in slo-mo. Fastballs smacked the net with the radar gun indicating my speed was improving. I hovered in the low nineties. With regular weighted balls, that number would get higher.
Leo returned a few minutes later and I mentally braced myself to be awkwardly recorded with my shirt off. He called for me to halt and I turned to see him holding a vest of some kind.
I dropped a ball into the bucket. “What’s this?”
“I had it custom made for you.” He came forward. It looked like a chest protector a motocross rider would wear but modified to have more armor around the sternum. “This is for you to wear when you’re playing. It’s lightweight. Should be skintight and can be worn under your uniform. Let me put it on you?”
I had no words. I didn’t give him permission and he didn’t wait. Classic Leo.
He had my hands up as he slipped it down over my head. It was loose, until he fidgeted with any number of lightweight straps to secure the protector. The inside was coated in a sweat-wicking fabric that wouldn’t chafe. The straps were breathable, as well. I put my hands over the front. Black plastic, though I’m sure it was a polymer of some kind to stop a half-speed fastball to the chest. I knocked on it, then wiggled my shoulders around. Nothing irritated.
“Okay. Let’s see a fastball,” Leo said.
But I didn’t. My mind hadn’t caught up yet until I looked at him. A wave of emotion hit me that I didn’t expect. I physically turned away from him for some semblance of privacy.
“Hey,” came his voice, quiet, sweet, a tone he rarely used.
He was at my side and still I turned from him. He let me. I fought to keep the emotion from spilling all over my face like some blubbering fool.
“I’ve been so scared,” I whispered. I was losing control. “How did you know?”
“Because I know you, Cody.” Again, with the caring tone, like a secret voice he used only for me. “If I can read your literal chest muscle contractions and not your emotional state, what the hell am I even doing with you?”
I blinked to keep the mist in my eyes from falling. “I’ve been so scared,” I repeated. “I knew I could throw but I didn’t know how I’d feel every time I did.”
Gently, Leo’s hand was on my shoulder, turning me so we could face each other. He knocked his knuckles against the chest protector. “I avoided getting into cars every time it snowed for almost five years. It took me a long time to get over that fear. I know a thing or two about being scared. And I—oh, hey now, Cody, don’t cry. It’s okay. Please don’t—”
His arms were around me when he realized his words were only making me feel more emotional. The chest protector did its job well to create a solid barrier between me and him. I leaned into Leo, buried my face in his neck as I fought off the wave of joy and relief and love that I felt for this man. Such a simple gift to address a simple concern. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to help me through this.
I think I’m in love, I thought as he held me. No, that was the wrong thing.
IknowI’m in love.
I wiped my tears and finally pulled away. Leo held his tongue and remained stalwart, the rock I needed in the moment. He helped wipe some of my tears, then gently massaged my neck. Hit me with a smile. A beautiful one. Small but mighty. Something caring.
“Let’s throw a few with this on, all right? Then we can take a break and come out here later to start back up. Let’s keep this on for a few hours, too. We can make adjustments to the straps.”
I cleared my throat and let out a heavy sigh to clear my emotions. “Yeah. Okay.”
Leo took up his former position at my two o’clock. “Calling in a fastball,” he said. “Let’s see what you can do, Hill.”
*
