Page 109 of Fake Love

I feel like I need it right now.

As Maddox is getting ready to pitch to the second batter of the ninth, my phone vibrates in my hand.

Not wanting to miss Maddox pitch, I ignore it.

The vibrating stops when the umpire calls out a strike on the first pitch but then it starts up again right before the second.

If someone is calling me twice in a row, it has to be something important.

Turning the phone over, I check to see who’s calling.

It’s a Chicago number according to the location on my caller ID.

There are only two numbers with a Chicago area code that will call me and one of those numbers is on the field right now.

The other is Nora.

But I have her number, so who would be calling me?

Whoever it might be, it can wait. I need to see my boyfriend finish this game.

Ignoring the call, I pocket my phone and turn back to look at the field. If it's important, whoever it is can leave a message.

Maddox strikes out the second batter and everyone goes wild. He’s three pitches and an out away from a big accomplishment.

As the third batter of the inning walks up, I feel my stomach go into knots.

This could turn in a number of ways. No matter the direction, though I hope to whatever god hears me, that it goes in Maddox’s favor.

My phone starts to vibrate again as Maddox winds up for his first pitch, but I don’t reach for it.

All my concentration is on Maddox and that’s where it stays as the ball releases from his hand and makes contact with the bat.

I watch as the ball goes up in the air, and as it travels towards right field.

No oxygen enters my body as the ball drops to the ground.

This is it. This is where it all ends.

My eyes are so concentrated on the ball, that I don’t notice that Aaron is under it, waiting to catch it until it’s already in his glove.

I don’t digest what happened until the whole stadium erupts in cheers and celebrations.

Maddox did it.

He pitched a perfect game.

Not only that but the miners just won the division from what the scoreboard is announcing.

Holy shit, he did it.

Hunter, Selena and I have our own celebration in the suite and then watch the team celebrate on field.

With eyes still on my man as he celebrates with his teammates, I decided to finally see what the call was about.

The same number called for a third time and thankfully this time around they left a voicemail.

Pulling away from the noise, I find a little nook and listen to the voicemail.

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