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Ason
The crowd cheers as we score another run.
The bright lights over the field seems to magnify the space before me. I stand in the dugout, watching as another one of my teammates rounds second and is called safe on third base. I’m up next in the lineup, but all I can focus on right now is Scarlette.
Earlier, I had told her to come to my game. It wasn’t a question, but a command. It was something I had inherited from my father; the need to control situations. I wanted Scarlette—needed her, and I wasn’t going to take no, for an answer. The fact that she hadn’t been touched by any other guy turned me on even more. Keeping tabs on her over the years, I had sadistically enjoyed watching her steer away from guys who I knew wanted to date her. She never saw her own worth, but that was paying off for me now. I know it makes me sound like a sick bastard, and maybe I truly am, but I can’t help myself. When it comes to Scarlette, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to make her mine.
My eyes scan the crowd until I spot Scarlette at the back of the bleachers. She’s with her friend, Macy, and I can’t help but notice that Scarlette seems uncomfortable. While the rest of the crowd cheers and talks about the game, she sits quietly next to her friend.
“Ason, you're up on deck,” coach shouts.
I grab my helmet and bat and make my way out of the dugout. When it’s my turn to hit, I head to the plate, but before I ready myself, I catch Scarlette’s eyes and smile. People in the stands notice my admiring her and their heads all turn as they search for who has my attention. I can already hear their whispers and see their shocked faces when they realize it’s Scarlette that I am smiling at.
As Scarlette realizes that it’s not just me looking at her, I can see her blush heating her face from here on the field. I can see that she is fighting whether to smile or be angry. I turn my attention back to the game and when the ball comes flying at me at over fifty miles per hour, I swing with all my strength and hear as the crack of the bat pings in the air. Without thinking, I drop the bat and begin racing toward first base. The crowd roars to life as they cheer me on. My teammates are hyped up, banging on the dugout walls as I touch first base and sprint toward second. When I slide into third, I stand up smiling as I’m called safe. Instead of looking back to my team, I look to Scarlette who is standing and clapping, too. Seeing her cheering for me is the best high I could ever experience. She’s the only one I care about right now. By tomorrow, the entire world is going to know that Scarlette is mine.
