What happens when the star baseball player hits a home run into the art studio window?
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All Sadie Lane Garner needed to make herself happy was a canvas and paintbrush.
With copious projects due and little studio time, she volunteers to clean t...
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THE SCREAMING OUTSIDE of the window was absolutely deafening.
But the view was quite spectacular, thanks to the Trembullen home game.
The stadium glowed from the towering spotlights, illuminating the team practicing on the field and a throng of tailgaters shotgunning beers in the parking lot. The Friday game came fast and started in less than ten minutes.
Here I was. Stuck in the studio, trying to finish this project, and running incredibly behind. It did not look like I was going to make it to the tailgate, let alone the first inning.
If I were painting on my schedule, I would stare at this canvas and add minor details until I was too exhausted (or indifferent) to add anything more. Though, today, I had no choice. Whatever I added within the next ten minutes would be on the drying rack, waiting to be graded tomorrow morning. My last brush stroke would mark the beginning of summer. I could barely contain my excitement.
Soon I would be sleeping in every day, painting on my own accord, and not dealing with silly assignments or finals. Even though the heat was a menace, summer was always peaceful. I could not wait to spend those long days waiting for the sun to set at nine-thirty at night with Elijah.
[Reva: We're headed into the stadium now, saving you a seat beside me ;)]
I smiled at her text and replied I would be down in ten minutes, whether the project felt complete or not. Just before I put my phone away, I spotted an email alert buried beneath other home-screen notifications which said 'twenty-seven minutes ago.'
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From: elijahpreston10@TU.com
To: sadielane04@TU.com
Subject: Home Run for you
Dear Miss Sadie Lane AKA Van Gogh AKA my girlfriend,
I'm contacting you today with an offer.
If you come to the dugout and give me a good luck kiss, I'll hit you a home run today. Even if you don't come, I'll always hit a home run for you.
Your Stalker,
Elijah
IMG_231.jpg
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I clicked on the attachment, and Elijah appeared on my screen, pristine in his baseball uniform. My heart swelled like a hot air balloon, and so did my smile, then deflated within the same minute.
