Number twenty-two, she doesn’t watch the ball, and she is always anticipating a fast call. First pitch, change up, she swung before it even reached the plate. Next pitch is a curve. She pops it up above my head, and I toss my helmet, locate the ball, and catch it for the third out. That could have been a bad inning, with bases loaded.
I’ll be the fourth batter in line. Our first batter is up, she’s hit by the pitcher. The second girl is up, and the pitcher is being too cautious and walks her. The third batter is up, she’s a slapper, and she played it perfectly, right over the shortstop’s head.
Bases are loaded. I walk to the plate, take a deep breath, just like my mom always said. I try to remember what I would always hear her say as she would talk in a normal tone to me. “Take a deep breath, hold it, and let it out, eye on the ball, hips then hands.“
First pitch, high and outside; second pitch, rise, strike one; third pitch, there it is, drop outside—my all-time favorite pitch. I watch it, hips and hands. That’s all she wrote, it was over the fence.
From behind me, I hear, “Grand Slam Baby!”
I turn and look. To my surprise, it is Zain; he made the trip to watch me play. My heart starts to pound and I am breathing heavier. I hadn’t asked him to come, but I am so glad he did. I step on home plate to my team slapping me on the head, shoulders, and butt. I walk into the dugout and turn to look at Zain. I wink at him and then stand to cheer the rest of my team on.
We win both games and I played the rest of the time. My hitting was spot on. This is what I love, this feeling of being able to show my abilities without saying a word, having them recognize what I am capable of doing.
After the games, I help clean out the dugout, throwing away the empty bottles that are strewn about, and anything that is left over. Once I finish, I walk out to see Zain. There are several girls standing around him, their hands all over him, and I am getting a little pissed until he looks up at me. His eyes light up, he is a man on a mission. He steps through the congregation of girls who were fawning over him and doesn’t take his eyes off me. I drop my backpack right before he picks me up, swinging me in a circle and kissing me. God, he smells so good, clean and totally Zain. All I can do is breathe him in, and of course giggle, as he spins me around.
When he sets me down the coach from the other team comes over to me and congratulates me. “You played very well, young lady.” He reaches out his hand to me and I give him a strong handshake.
“Thank you, Coach.”
“You’re new this year, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you call your own pitches or do you take them from the coach?” he asks, looking down at my arm, having just noticed the writing on it.
“I call my own, sir. That way if I meet the player again, I will know what they like.”
“Well, I would say that you know exactly what my players like and can’t resist. When we first started the game, I could have sworn the outcome would have been different. What are you, their secret weapon?”
I chuckle at his words. “No sir, I’m just a girl that loves to play softball. I want to be one of the best, so I study the players to know their strengths and weaknesses.”
“Well, I would say that you were what turned this game around. What’s this?” He holds up my arm. “And why didn’t you start the game?”
“I was just biding my time until Coach called on me. I transfer it to my softball book so it is neat when I study it. I have to keep track somehow, and I knew the marker would last through sweat.”
Now he’s laughing at me. “Do you always take that book with you?”
“Yes sir, it goes with me everywhere, to all my games and anytime I watch softball.” I pull it out of my backpack and show it to him.
“You have all the players in here?”
“Yes sir, you never know who you might face at the plate. It’s better to know ahead of time than to guess, and guess wrong. They might end up with a grand slam.” I smile up at him and he chuckles as he hands me back my book.
“May I ask what your weakest pitch is?”
“Yes you may, but you will have to forgive me if I don’t tell you what it is.”
He chuckles. “Of course.”
“May I ask you what you hit your grand slam on?”
“Does your pitcher or catcher not know?”
“Unfortunately, they weren’t really paying attention. They thought you were a second string player, so they didn’t pay attention.”
“What about the other home runs I hit tonight? They surely had to know what I was capable of at that point.”
“Yes, but at that point you had scared them enough that they didn’t want to face you again.”
“Oh.”
“You’re going to go far, kid.”
“Thank you, Coach.”
He pats me on the shoulder and turns to leave.
I look up at Zain and I want to scream for joy. I’m doing the happy dance on the spot. I can’t believe it. Zain just laughs at me.
“Thank you for coming and watching me play today.”
“I came because I was selfish; I missed you and wanted to see you. Are you staying another night?”
“I don’t know what the plan is, although I might have missed my ride since I don’t see anyone around anymore.”
“Well, if they did leave, I’ll take you back to the hotel to get your things.” Zain picks up my backpack, tossing it over one of his shoulders, then takes my hand as we walk to the parking lot.
“Modell, I was wondering if you were planning on staying here all night. Maybe you should say goodbye to your party friends and pay more attention to your teammates.”
Chapter Ten
Charlie
“I’M SORRY, COACH. The coach from the other team came over and started talking to me; I didn’t feel it was respectful to ignore him.”
“Uh huh,” she says under her breath.
I look up at Zain. He shrugs his shoulders and gives me a kiss goodbye. He hands me my backpack and I get onto the bus. I walk back to my seat and slide in. There is a piece of paper folded in half sitting there. I pick it up and open it when I get myself situated. It says:
“So now you probably think you are hot shit because you had a good game, well think again sister, this season hasn’t even started. You won’t last long if you keep taking not only our positions on the field but our fuck buddy too.”
Are you fucking kidding me? What are we, back in grade school? This is the last thing I want to deal with right now. I put my earbuds in and turn up my music.
At the hotel, everyone is griping about the game. Fuck, and me. I don’t want to deal with this. I get to my room and my roommates are no better. I text Zain to see if he is still in the area. I make my way to the coach’s room, bringing the note with me.
I can hear raised voices on the other side of the door, but I knock anyway. When Coach opens the door, Ericka and Brandy are standing there glaring at me. “Coach, I was wondering if you had a minute. I can wait out here until you’re finished.”
“It’s fine, Charlize. They were just leaving.”
They glare at me as they walk out.
“What can I help you with, Charlize?”
“Please call me Charlie.”
“Okay Charlie. What can I help you with?”
“Coach, I’m not a complainer, but this weekend really sucked. I thought we were supposed to be a competitive team. I sat on the bench the first four innings cheering my team on. Not knowing if I was even going to hit the field, but I still supported my teammates and worked as if someday I could do my job for you. When I am given that opportunity, I am bashed and bullied not only by my teammates, but by the one person that should have my back—you!”
“And why do you think you are being bullied?”
I hand her a copy of the note that was left on my bus seat. I thought if something was going to go down, I wanted evidence.
“Coach, I have no problem with respecti
ng you and your coaching. But if you’re going to get on me for being late to a team meeting, don’t you think it should be the same for everyone? I told you that if you signed me, I would never let you down. Unfortunately from the first day I got here you have let me down, and if things don’t change, I don’t know that I will be here for another year.”
“Point taken. You want to know why you were sat out most of the first game?” I look up at her to see what I have done so wrong that she would rather lose a game then have me play. “You are not a team player, you never hang out with your teammates, you don’t do your workouts with them, you don’t do anything with them. This is a team; you have to be able to trust everyone on the team. Instead, you hang out with the biggest partier in the town.”
“Coach, first of all, trust is earned, it isn’t given. Second, this is a job to me, and I don’t have to like my teammates to do a good job. Just like you, I’m sure there are people at this university that you don’t like. That doesn’t mean I am not a team player. I believe I proved that this afternoon. And thirdly, Zain might have been a partier prior to meeting me, but I beg to differ who the biggest partiers at the university are.
“Coach, I signed a contract with you and this university stating that I wouldn’t drink or do drugs while on the team and I stand by and honor that contract. I haven’t ever drank or done drugs ever, not at home or here.”
“That’s not what I heard. I heard the first night you were here you asked to go straight to a party and you were so slammed you were stumbling into people and that Zac guy …”
“Zain?”
“Yes, Zain took you to his place. Now I’m not your mother, but I don’t think she would be very happy with what is going on.”
“That’s true, Coach. She isn’t happy with what’s going on. From the moment you told her that you, not a teammate, but you were going to pick me up at the airport. Hell, I’ve been here a month and you still haven’t brought my things to me that you said I could ship to your address. As far as Zain goes, yes, I did meet him at that party. I didn’t want to be there, but I didn’t have a car or any idea where I was supposed to go. Zain knew the campus and showed me. He took me to my dorm and made sure I had everything I needed, and neither he nor I have been at a party since. I don’t need to get high off artificial things like drugs or alcohol when I can play like I played today and get enough endorphins to live off for a while. I get high off of playing my best. That’s what I live for. Now if you don’t need me to stay the night, I will be going home with Zain. At least I know I won’t have to worry about a catfight with this great group of teammates that would rather backstab a good player, because they’re jealous of what I can bring to the table. By the way, you can keep that note. I have the original copy, not that I think you will do anything about it.” I turn and walk out the door. When I get to the lobby, Zain is there waiting for me.
“You want to talk about it?”
“I have to go get my stuff from my room first.” We take the elevator up to my floor and I open my door and my belongings are spread out everywhere, my things were ransacked. I shut the door and slide down the wall and I know I can’t keep doing this. Zain takes pictures of all my items. Once I gather myself, I start to shove everything in my bag. Then I see it—they had gotten into my backpack and ripped the pages out of my batters book. I lose it at that point. I’m seeing red. What have I ever done to any of these girls? I call the coach and tell her that if this isn’t handled I’m leaving the team. Zain sends her the pictures of the room. I leave the hotel and head to Zain’s truck so he can get me back to my dorm to get my things before they are ruined as well.
I tell Zain what the coach accused him of, and he gets an embarrassed look on his face. “She is right, that was me. I’m not going to school and I am always, well used to be, at all the parties. But that all changed when I met you.”
I look at him. “I can understand drinking, but why drugs? Why would you put yourself through the possibility of getting addicted?” I look up at him, my heart is racing, but he has to understand how important this is to me. “Zain, you’re not still using, are you? Because that's one thing I can’t overlook.” I can’t believe this, all this time. I break out in a cold sweat. I don’t know what I would do if this is something he enjoys doing. I just know I can’t be with someone who does drugs, even recreationally.
“No, it’s only been a little weed at parties.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a prude, it’s just that I saw so many people that got themselves in so deep …”
“I get it, and no, I don’t think you are a prude. You’re an athlete, you have your beliefs, and I admire that. Like I said before, it was weed and it was only occasionally.”
We drive back to campus in unnerving silence as I try to take in what he's just admitted to me. Once back at my dorm, I pull all my belongings out of my room. “Are you going to be okay with me moving in with you until I can find my own place?”
“Char, I don’t want you to live anywhere else. It’s not as if you have stayed in your dorm room that much anyway, stay with me. I would miss you in my bed, our bed. I would miss your scent on our bed, I love being able to reach over and just touch you while you’re sleeping. I love to fall asleep looking at you and waking up to your beautiful face.”
“Okay.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I will move in with you.”
“Really, you will? You won’t regret it.” He looks like a little kid when he says that, I have to laugh. I need to laugh; I was so unnerved the whole way back, I need to relax and trust him.
We load my things into his truck and take it all back to Zain’s place. I’ve never seen anyone so happy to give up half of his drawer space and closet.
My phone buzzes with a text. I open my text page and see that the coach set a coaches meeting for tomorrow afternoon. Well, maybe she is finally going to get things straightened out with the team and get them to change their attitudes.
It’s been a long day and I just want to collapse, but I need a shower after the dirty, dusty day of playing ball.
I empty my things into the drawers that Zain gave me and start to get organized. I undress and turn the shower on. I’m a little disappointed that Zain didn’t come in and join me. Feeling a little low and emotional with the day’s events, I walk out into the bedroom after finishing my bedtime rituals. With my towel wrapped around me, I lift my head to see candles lit throughout the room and the bed is turned down and there is music lightly playing in the background.
Zain had changed out of his clothes into a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. I look up at him as tears rim my eyes. He walks up to me and kisses me on the forehead. Taking my hand, he leads me to the bed. “Take the towel off and lay it on the bed lengthwise, then lay on top of it.” I look at him with a confused look, but I do as he asks.
“Close your eyes and just relax.”
I close my eyes and take in this moment, although I wonder what he has in store. Within a few minutes, I hear him, then I feel him. The bed dips as he gets onto it and straddles me. Then I feel his warm hands on my back and the smell of honeysuckle. He massages my shoulders and, using his thumbs, he massages down each side of my spine, then pushing them back up the spine and over my shoulder blades. He repeats this process several times, as I feel the weight of the day being washed away.
He then takes one of my hands in his and starts to massage the meaty part. Rubbing little circles around the palm, then the fingers and thumb, moving up my arm to the other arm and down to my other hand. He slides off me to stand at the end of the bed and starts with my feet. God, it’s been forever since I had a pedicure.
I think I’m moaning; he has magic fingers. He moves up my leg, then the other to my ass cheek, then he slowly takes my ankles and pulls them apart spreading my legs. He runs his hands up my leg to my inner thigh. He slowly starts to massage the outside of my sex as I start to writhe. He runs his finger between the lips of my pussy. “Oh, baby.�
�
I gasp as he slips a finger into my pussy. Then he curls his finger slightly and starts to massage the front wall, making me writhe even more. I feel the tightening of my core as my legs start to shake. My pussy starts to quiver. My breathing is harsh, as he leans into my ear and whispers, “Let go, baby.” I let go, and I explode, shattering into a million pieces as I call out his name. Before my orgasm subsides, he’s in me, filling me, and my orgasm reignites and I’m seeing stars now. He pulls me to the end of the bed and is lifting my hips as he thrusts into me, filling me. He’s hitting my core with each thrust. I feel him getting longer, thicker, harder, and I know he’s close.
“Fuck me harder. Harder, Zain, fuck me harder.”
“Oh fucking hell, I love it when you talk to me like that. Oh God, Char, you have me on the edge.”
“Fuck, Zain, I’m going to come. Oh! God, Now Zain Now!” I start to come as I feel him coming.
“God, Char, I’ll never get my fill of you.” He stands there, still holding my hips as we both come down from our orgasms.
He slowly pulls out, removing the condom, throwing it away, then climbing into bed and covering us both up. He looks at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I never thought I would be in a situation like this a month ago. A month ago, I was looking to move on, and now, I never want to leave you,” Zain says. “I’ve fallen in love you with you, Char.”
“Oh God, Zain. I’ve been so afraid to say those words, I didn’t want to scare you away.”
“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he says as he kisses me softly. Sleep takes us both.
I sleep in a little the next morning, knowing the team won’t be back for several hours. Zain receives a call this morning and has to leave quickly. He said he would explain when he got back. I go to the gym, work out for a while, and come home to shower before my coaches meeting. Zain still isn’t home by the time I have to leave for my meeting, so I walk to campus and into the room where the meeting will be held. I grab a seat and wait. The girls start to file into the room and find places to sit. The coach comes in and sits in front of everyone after closing the door.
Anchored To Love Page 5
