**All characters are 18-years-old**
A single bead of sweat trickled down the side of my face. I flexed my fingers against the smooth wood of the baseball bat, glad for the cap that obscured the sun from my face. The pitcher narrowed his eyes on me. He pulled his arm back, then flung hurled the ball with as much force as he could muster.
I swung the bat, relief flooding through me as the bat made contact and smacked the ball across the field as hard I could. Tossing the bat behind me, I took off before I could see where the ball went or how much time I had to run. Dust swirled around my feet as I moved from first base to second. I kept running around second and towards third base.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the ball being collected from the pale green grass, but I took the risk. I skipped past third and continued towards fourth base, knowing my time was running out as someone threw the ball towards the baseman. As the ball flew through the air, and the last base insight, I sprinted towards it and dropped into a slide.
The muscles in my left leg tensed when I hit the ground, a dull pain spreading through my leg. I ignored it and stretched my foot out, tapping it against the off-white base before the baseman caught the ball.
"That's a home run. Nicely done, Andrews," Coach said.
"Here." The baseman held his hand out to me and I grabbed it, letting him pull me to my feet.
My eyes met his pale blue ones. A small spark of electricity tingled down my skin. "Thanks." I brushed some of the dust from my body, but my white t-shirt was stained with orange dust.
"Right, we'll wrap it up here for the day. Rest up and be here tomorrow, bright and early, for the game. I don't want any of you slacking."
"Yes, Coach," we chorused.
"Good. Off you go."
My left leg ached with each step I took and I knew I'd pulled something trying to make the home run -- I should have left it at third. I was due to play my first game with the team in just under twenty-four hours time and I didn't like the idea of letting them all down over a simple pulled muscle. It wouldn't make for the best first game impression.
Although I joined the baseball team less than a month ago, I didn't really find myself fitting in with the rest of the team. It was hard to transfer schools part way through the year, it was even harder to fit into a team that was already formed and gelled together. I was an outsider to them all and an injury so close to a game, especially one caused by my own actions, it wouldn't go down too well with people who didn't know me.
I hid the slight limp as best as I could, walking through the parking lot with my bag swinging over my shoulder and knocking into my hip. If I was quick, I could make it to the nearest physio center for an emergency massage to loosen up the muscles enough for the game.
"Hey," a voice called behind me.
I turned, watching the fourth basemen cross the parking lot at a slight job to join me. I flexed my fingers against my bag strap and readjusted its position on my shoulder. He smiled at me, his pale blue eyes lighting up. I could see the muscles through his shirt which, like mine, was covered in the same orange dust. My stomach flipped.
"You're an impressive batsman. Reckon we might be in with a chance this year. It's been a dud season so far." He shook his head. "You just transferred, right?"
"Yeah, I'm Ethan."
"Connor. Hell of a time to transfer, especially during your Senior year."
I shrugged, itching to leave the parking lot. "Nothing I can do about it now. Mom had to transfer for her job so here we are." I readjusted my weight a little, shifting it onto my right leg.
"Better for us, though. Taking the championship in Senior year would be the best ending to High School, especially with college scouts still around." He looked at me, frowning a little. "You alright?"
"Yeah, I think I pulled something trying to get the home run. I'm sure it's nothing, but I'm going to see if I can get something done for it."
"You won't at this time of day. Most places around here are closed or booked up by now. I'll tell you what, my dad's done some physio stuff in the past and I think we still have it. I'm no professional, but it would be better than nothing. At least you can play tomorrow."
"I don't know." I played with the strap of my bag.
"Come on, I've helped out people on the team before." He looked behind him, scanning the parking lot. "Jayden! Tell Ethan about your pulled hamstring."
Jayden poked his head out from the driver's seat, scraping his long blonde hair back into a bun. "Magic hands, new kid. You got a pulled muscle, save the money and let him look at it."
Connor turned back around to face me, grinning. "Well?"
"Alright, fine. If it means I can play tomorrow."
"Come on then, let's go."
Connor nudged his head and set off across the parking lot. I followed him, my left leg aching with each step. Professional massages I was fine with; they were trained in what they did and it didn't feel strangely personal. We were teammates, and despite Jayden's reassurance from across the parking lot, it was still an uncomfortable idea.
I had always been comfortable in myself and the fact that I was gay, it was a part of who I was and I didn't try to hide it. Yet I wasn't sure how comfortable the baseball team was with that sort of thing. It certainly made the idea of having my teammate put his hands on me a little uncomfortable to think about, no matter how professional he was.
Still, if it meant I could play, I was willing to try it. I could always see a real sports physio after the game.
I climbed into the passenger seat of Connor's car, fidgeting a little. Connor connected his phone to the AUX cord and began to blast Bowling for Soup, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He waited for the car in front of us to pull out and then followed.
We drove with nothing but the music flowing through the speakers to break up what would be a comfortable silence. I definitely didn't expect to find myself in his car after having not said a word to him in the month I've been at the school. We didn't know anything about each other aside from names.
After ten minutes of nothing but the music for company, Connor pulled the car into the driveway of a large brick house. He switched off the engine, unplugged his phone, and opened the car door.
"Come on, then."
I followed, throwing my bag onto my shoulder and watching him reach into the backseat to grab his own. After locking the car, he led me up to the house and unlocked the front door.
"My parents aren't going to be back for a few hours so we have time. Do you have gym shorts?"
"I think I should have some somewhere."
"Good. There is a bathroom down the hall so you can go and change whilst I get everything ready."
