by Bri Izzo
“Aw, you’re not going to wear your baseball pants to school?” I tease, giggling at the image of him walking down the hallway in those sexy, tight white pants. Calm down, Bianca.
“And have you get detention because of it and miss your game? No fucking way,” Skyler chuckles. He waves the beauties in front of me as he throws them into a gym bag by the door. “You’ll have to come over and watch my game when yours ends to see me in these.”
“Okaaay,” I fake whine, jumping to my feet. I prance over to him and wrap my arms around his neck to reach up for a quick kiss. A glance at the clock tells me that he let me sleep in a little later than normal. When I release myself from him, he turns to exit his bedroom, like I should meet him downstairs whenever I’m ready like every other day. But I still need him for a second. “Wait!” I call for him.
“What? I’m going to go throw in some toast,” he tells me, looking over his shoulder. This morning view of him, his brown eyes gazing at me over his last name and number on his back, destroys me. Everything about it makes me appreciate why I love him so much. Those eyes are my greatest ally, and I have to believe that his number is lucky - for both of us - or else Rex and the rest of the world wouldn’t have let us remain together like we want.
I quickly dash into Skyler’s walk-in closet and come out with his old junior varsity mesh baseball jersey.
“Can I wear this today?” I hope. I’ve seen some other girls around school wearing other guys’ jerseys this week since they’re starting to play spring games. Even though I have a game tonight, I’d rather wear his jersey to school than mine - everyone knows I play softball. I just want to show off that I’m supporting my boyfriend. Yes, I’m excited to scream it down the hallways and from the bleachers at all of his games. SKYLER SWANSON IS MY BOYFRIEND, AND I’M SO FUCKING PROUD OF IT! I think he’d like that mating call, right?
“Hmm, I don’t know,” Skyler answers, turning fully around and walking towards me wearing only a tank top and shorts in his closet doorway. One of his hands slips between my arm holding his other jersey and my side, landing on my lower back as he takes a step closer.
“You don’t know?” I tease him, determining that that’s exactly what he’s doing to me.
With a somewhat hidden smile, he says, “Yeah, it depends.”
“Depends on what?” I banter, playfully raising my eyebrows at him. In an attempt to ignore his hand making my body burst into flames, I throw his jersey onto my shoulders, leaving my arms out of it for the meantime.
“Depends on if you’re wearing it as my best friend or my girlfriend,” Skyler smoothly declares.
Strike three, I’m out. How does he always know the right thing to say?
Hoping to provide a good enough answer for his swoon-worthy stipulation, I smile, giving myself away that he’s won my heart seven times over. “What if I’m wearing it as both?” I wonder. My heart is racing around the bases in my chest. His eyes brighten, alerting me that he approves of my question as my answer. “Just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean I’m not your best friend anymore. You’re a lot more to me than just a boyfriend.” I blush. That came out a lot more vulnerable than it sounded in my head.
“I was teasing. Of course you can wear my jersey.” He plays it off like I didn’t just pour my heart out to him at seven in the morning. My mouth is agape in disbelief. Really? Just as I think he’s actually turning around to grab his bag and go downstairs, his expression extremely light and unwavering, he leans down and whispers in my ear, “You’re more than just my fucking girlfriend, too, sweetheart,” and kisses my cheek. “I’ll wait for you downstairs, B.”
What a tease, Skyler saying something like that and then leaving me with only a kiss on my cheek. Torture. Beautiful, blissful torture.
After school Skyler has a spring game at the same time that I have one of my regular season conference games. They both happen to be at home, but it still means he won’t be in my dugout. Because of this, McCallum planned it out so that I won’t pitch this game since my pitching coach isn’t there. Instead, he lets me play second base for the first time all season. Usually I’m just the designated hitter, but with ESPN here, Coach wants to spotlight my versatility.
After we ten-run rule our opponent in the fourth inning, I grab my bag and walk over to the baseball field to watch the rest of Skyler’s game.
That’s when I notice scouts in the bleachers taking notes on almost every single play. I decide to attempt a long shot in reading their clipboards by taking a seat two rows behind them. Skyler’s name appears on at least two of them that I can see, so I look at the scouts’ attire to determine where they are from: UW Oshkosh and Southern Illinois.
“Bianca Ferrari?” I hear a strong male voice call my name from behind me. I spin around to see another scout who apparently knows me. I guess my last name is on my jersey, but still. I should’ve thrown Skyler’s JV one back on after my game.
“Yes?” I question. His shirt says Alabama, but I can't believe it. Why would someone from across the country be in Hinsdale, Illinois on a Friday evening?
“I’m Pat Murphy, head coach of the Alabama softball team,” he introduces himself. “Mind if we have a chat?” Holy shit. This is real? Someone from across the country wants to recruit me? And it’s a head coach - not a scout. He looks way different in person and sounds way more southern than I thought he would.
“Sure,” I wearily reply even though I really want to watch this game! Sky is catching right now; I just want to see his ass in his baseball pants. My priorities are still of a young teenage girl, not an ESPN top softball recruit.
When I hop off the bleachers, I notice a few more people from schools around the country are huddled up and, I guess, waiting for me. Okay, I guess I’m not watching the rest of this inning.
“You ran off so fast after the game none of us got to talk to you,” Pat chuckles. It wasn’t a coincidence. I hate the spotlight and care way more about watching baseball than I do talking to old people.
“Sorry. I just wanted to catch the end of this game,” I enlighten them with an embarrassed smile. I look over my shoulder and see the guys are coming into the dugout to hit. I have no idea where they are in the lineup so I don’t know if Rex, Skyler, or Benny are hitting soon or not. This baseball game means just as much to me as my own game; my brother, boyfriend, and one of my best friends all play on this team. It’s too bad the scouts aren’t here to watch me watch a baseball game.
There are scouts or coaches (whoever they are) from Missouri, Tennessee, UW Oshkosh, and St. Cloud, as well as Pat from Alabama, standing before me. I’m instantly overwhelmed and am confused how I’m still in the spotlight until I see the ESPN cameras behind the coaches. I’m being recruited because ESPN is here.
I play along and answer their questions as truthfully as I can; I don’t know what my plans are for college since I’m only a sophomore. Yes, my family will factor into my decision. No, I don’t have a favorite softball team besides the USA Olympics team.
I don’t get to see the finish of the boys’ game, which kind of upsets me. As soon as I hear the audience clapping to sound the end of it, I excuse myself from the coaches and scouts so I can go greet my man. I walk up to the side fence that comes up to about my chest and wait for him to come over.
“Hey, you,” I smirk, leaning over the fence.
“Hey,” Skyler replies back. In front of all of our recruits, coaches, teammates, family, and friends, he kisses me over the fence. I feel like I hit a home run the way he gently, yet passionately, claims me as his at our favorite place in the world. It’s my favorite kiss that we’ve ever shared, mostly because it’s on a baseball field. It feels good to do it in fresh, open air with whoever we don’t care watching.
“Gross. Get a room,” I hear my brother’s sarcastic chuckle coming from behind Skyler and feel a jolt as he throws his glove. It must’ve hit Skyler in the back because he twitched and drew our lips apart.
“Let me come around,” Skyler offers. I
let him grab his bag and meet me at the bottom of one set of bleachers next to the ones with his scouts residing on it.
I pretty much forget about the scouts here to see me because I don’t want to think about college yet, and I’m convinced that having a southern accent would make me sound stupid. That automatically rules out Alabama, no matter how good of a softball team they have.
When Skyler approaches me again, he sets his bag next to my feet and asks, “Why the sour face?” It must be my thinking face with all the crazy thoughts running through my head. All of these scouts are riling me up. I didn’t even realize I was scowling until he said something. “Are you not excited to go to the cabin this weekend?” he asks me.
My whole body goes rigid, like an alarm is ringing for me to get out of this place. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. The ESPN feature requires some time spent at the cabin since that’s where my accident occurred.
“I’m not wake-boarding. It’s too cold,” I shiver as my excuse rolls off my tongue. He gives me an understanding glance. We both know my first time back on the water will not be with a worldwide audience and camera crew. Now I know what reality TV show stars feel like. Looking up at him, I inform him, “And that’s not why I was upset. It was because those scouts are here to see you.”
“And?” he questions further. He had to know they were coming, unlike me who was totally blindsided. He’s taking off his cleats and switching to sandals, acting like this isn’t an important conversation. It’s recruitment season for him; he’s a junior. At this time next year he’ll already have his decision made about college.
“And they’re from across the country,” I state firmly, dropping my head into my hands.
“Hey, come here,” Skyler orders me in his sexy raspy voice that can make me do anything. It’s the voice he only uses when he has something serious to say with me, no one else. I let him pull me into his chest as I wrap my arms around his waist. “This guy is from Oshkosh. It’s only across the state border.”
“It’s three hours away,” I point out. He hates sleeping away from me for one night, and same goes for me; how will we go however long that will require to be away from each other?
“I’ll make it two and a half,” he jokes, giving me a flirty squeeze.
“What am I supposed to do with you three hours away?” I whine.
Skyler goes silent for a long moment as he processes my question. Either he hasn’t thought about it at all prior to today, or he’s thought about it way too damn much and is trying to find the right words to express it.
“I haven’t decided if that’s where I’m going or not. He’s just here to watch me right now. No offers.” I bury my head into his chest, trying to memorize the smell of his game-worn jersey and the heat from his chest that I love so much. “Hey… when an offer comes, we’ll discuss it. You and me. This decision isn’t just mine.”
“Sky, yes it is,” I argue, mumbling into him.
“No, it’s not. Besides, weren’t you talking to scouts who were literally from across the country? Pretty sure I saw Pat Murphy,” he changes the direction of the wind.
“Pahleeze. They’re just here because ESPN is here,” I brush it off.
“Sweetheart, it’s the other way around; ESPN is here because you’re being recruited as a sophomore.” Skyler smirks at me like he knows the entire premise for my life. Or maybe he’s just proud of me, and I’m being stubborn.
“Well I’m not going to school across the country from you,” I declare, grabbing onto his hand to further confirm my statement.
“Ha, see? The tables have turned,” he snickers in a lighter mood. Okay, that’s definitely his I’m proud of you and you amaze me face.
“I won’t do it,” I say again.
“Why not? What if they give you a really good offer?” he suggests, his brows creasing. He doesn’t like this idea any more than I do, but he’s playing devil’s advocate. This is why it’s beneficial to date someone that doubles as my best friend. We both have to pay our own way through college, despite our parents having the means to pay for us. I guess they think we’ll appreciate it more that way.
“I won’t go to school away from you because we’d have to break up and we made a deal,” I blurt out. His face instantly hardens, as does mine. I don’t want to be discussing this right now. We have an audience, a professional one.
“Why the fuck do you think we would break up?” he questions me sternly. “Did you not hear me the other day when I told you and everybody else that there will not be a fucking breakup with us?”
“It’s college. That’s what couples do,” I tell him. “87.3% of couples who do long distance relationships in college break up within the first three months of being apart.”
“And where the fuck did you find that statistic?” Skyler snaps at me in the same lighter mood from moments ago. He laughs knowing that I pulled the stat completely out of my ass. I have nothing. Nothing except nerves.
“A very reputable source,” I joke, trying to keep a straight face.
“I don’t care what fucking statistic you throw at me about other people. It’s us against them, sweetheart. You and I will fucking win every damn time, no matter what the statistical odds.” Skyler is pretty damn convincing, so for now I’m just going to focus on the upcoming state tournament and summer vacation with my boy and our crew.
Skyler and Bianca’s story continues in The Catcher Series
Book 2: Swing For the Fences
Book 3: Going Down Swinging
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Acknowledgements
Special thanks to all of my friends who helped me in the process of publishing Full Count, especially Jessica, Gretchen, Meghan, Isabel, and Elizabeth who have each invested a significant amount of time in The Catcher Series. Also thank you to the Ritchie sisters for inspiring me and giving me advice to follow this dream. To anyone who reads this story, I appreciate you helping make my dream of being an author and a storyteller come true!
