I’ll be at yours in an hour
Be dressed by the time I get there
Kickoff is at 6pm
Isabella
It’s called the first pitch
Jordan
AW look at our little baby growing up and learning sports things!
seriously though isa. make sure you’re dressed
Isabella
What does one even wear to a baseball game as a spectator?
Jordan
something comfy for this heat obviously
Isabella
*sigh* Fine
The intercom systembuzzes almost an hour later, on the dot. Liz is nothing if not punctual. I hear Jordan in the living room scrambling to let her up.
By the time they both barrel into my bathroom, I’m doing the finishing touches on my hair. I’ve thrown my beachy waves up into a ponytail to help keep me cool in this California heat, and opted to wear my favorite pair of denim shorts with a cropped tank top in LA Suns yellow, because I should try to showsomesort of support, right? But it’s also the first time I’ll see Ryan since our not-date date, and I want to look cute. Sue me.
I grab the tube of tinted lip balm from the counter and swipe a quick coat on before I pop it into my pocket.
I turn and face the girls to see them looking satisfied with themselves.
“Ooo yes, you look great. Really rocking that team spirit,” Jordan says, eyes sparkling with excitement.
I roll my eyes before noticing the bag in Liz’s hands. “What’s that?” I ask with a tilt of my head in its direction.
“Oh, just the finishing touches for your outfit.”
I quirk an eyebrow at her. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing! But it could be alittlebit better,” she says, pinching her index and thumb together until they’re about to touch. She digs her hand around in the bag and pulls out a baseball shirt.Jersey? Are they called jerseys in baseball?
“Seriously? You bought me a jersey?”
“Not any jersey,” Jordan chimes in with an overwhelming eagerness on her face that has me bracing for impact.
Liz unfolds the shirt, holding it up so I can get a better look at it. It’s the home jersey. Black with white pinstripes andSunswritten across the front in bright yellow with a number7tucked right below the last S.
My eyes widen. “You’re joking me.”
Liz’s grin could rival the Cheshire Cat as she flips it around so I can see the large7in the middle with the nameFletcheracross the top.
“You’re not joking me.”
“Put it on!” Jordan chants.
