Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 2.

I never came to school sport events as often as everyone else unless I really had to -- meaning Charlie pulled me to watch his girlfriend Martha kill it as the main setter on the volleyball team. She was awfully good. Otherwise, I'd be at a school event because it was something entertaining or if I had something to do with it.

The crowd vigorously spoke and the shaking of the stands reminded me of those stomping their feet to the beat of the song that plays in the back. At Brown, baseball is a big deal this year. I've come to that conclusion seeing the endless of people that crowd the stands at Murray Stadium. It's never been this huge or this popular, but the time changed these factors.

I sat next to Deborah in the stands that were much closer to the ground field. My hands tugged my green jacket closer to my body, feeling a cold breeze past by briefly. The noise was astronomical, and I dealt with it thanks to the ibuprofen I had in my bag. The game is yet to start.

"You see number forty four?" Deborah says to me over the chatting crowd. Her arm raised and her index finger points to somewhere in the field and I squint to try and follow. "Him. That's my boyfriend. The best pitcher on the team." She seems to brag a little, but in a cheerful way that is hard to consider she's being anything negative. I notice Deborah is actually kind of cool in her own little way.

I nod my head. Her boyfriend, forty four, is the short, and muscular, pitcher that is rounding up some warm ups for the team. He swings his pitching arm back and forth, warming up his body. His hair is a jet black color, skin a tan golden color. From where we stood, I could see small details of his face.

"His name is Cassiel. But we all call him Casey," she informs me, and all I can do is nod. Deborah turns her body slightly so she is facing me. I look to her after gazing the team for a few more seconds. "So you? You in a relationship?"

I shake my head. "No boyfriends. Not since senior year in high school."

She nods her head. "You're in your second year here, right?"

With a nod of my head, I answer her question silently before I look to the field again. My eyes follow one of the guys on the team that is practicing his swinging, skillfully stretching his body while standing in his preferable position to bat. Deborah seems to follow my gaze, looking at number twenty eight.

"Harry. Captain and also the star of the show," she says. "He's in his last year here. He could make it into the big leagues if he wanted to."

I recognize him as the guy who had an awkward stare off in the library with me earlier today. His brown hair frames his face up to his cheek, a lightly shaved beard following across his jaw. He looks angry, eyebrows furrowed and lips firmly pressed together. The focus is clear on his face, jaw moving as he chews gum. My eyes travel down his body, long legs, firm strong thighs and back up to his toned arms, a single tattoo on his arm. The cross necklace around his neck hangs right underneath the neckline of his jersey.

"He's hot," I tell her bluntly.

Deborah, not expecting me to say that, lets her jaw drop as a loud giggle escapes her parted lips. "I didn't think you'd say that. But yeah, I agree. He's really quiet though. Doesn't like to talk to people as much as he used to."

"Why's that?" I ask out of absentminded interest, too busy watching him on the field. I furrow my eyebrows, remembering his stare and the pale green of his irises.

The blonde next to me shrugs. "No idea.."

We stop talking about the captain of the team when the game begins. Everyone stands for the pledge of allegiance and as it finished, the crowd gains an initiative, and that is to cheer the win out of the opposing team. Deborah gets excited next to me while I find myself cheering as well, never knowing that I'd find baseball so enthusiastically moving. And not to mention the way Deborah cheers on her boyfriend, standing to her feet on the stands and screaming the air out of her lungs. Blonde hair flying to her face, cheeks pink with the cold. If Casey noticed her, he was too busy winning the game for his team.