Free Waylaid by Ruth J. Hartman

baseman. Oh man, was that it? Was I out?
    “Graham! Keep going!” Addy’s voice floated to me. I checked to see if the third baseman had the ball but he didn’t. It dropped three feet short of him and bounced in the dirt. With a curse, he fumbled to grab it. That’s all I needed. I hit the base with my cleat and kept on pumping my legs until I reached home.
    My team stood up from the bench in the dugout. High fives were slapped against my hand.
    “Great hit, Stewart.” Lennie smacked my shoulder.
    I grinned. Although, I would have rather hit a legitimate out of the park home run for Addy. Maybe my next time at bat.
    When I was up the following inning, I was determined to get another homer. I grabbed my aluminum bat and stood off to the side as I warmed up. I swung it over my head again, trying to loosen up my knotted shoulders from all that pitching. Each opposing player had taken several swings at my pitches. My arms were beginning to tire.
    My team shouted encouragement from the dugout. Everyone but Jones. Where was he? After his comment about Addy earlier and leering at her in the parking lot, I wanted to keep an eye on him. I checked the dugout again but still didn’t see him. Where was—
    There. Sitting by Addy. With his arm around her!
    Jealous anger ripped through me. Visions of me running around the fence to the stands and beating his face to a pulp played in my head.
    But I couldn’t. Much as I wanted to, I’d never hit anyone before. It wouldn’t start now in front of Addy.
    But I still needed to get rid of the frustration. Taking four steps to the telephone pole just this side of the dugout, I pulled back my arms, took aim, and whacked my bat across the pole. A loud thump echoed over the field. Every muscle in my arms felt the impact but I didn’t care. It felt good, imagining Jones’ face right where my bat had struck.
    “Stewart!” Lennie started to leave the dugout but I waved him off. With a glare at Jones, I stood and waited until he backed off from Addy. She was glaring at him too, but she didn’t seem freaked, which was good.
    Jones’ face turned pink and he slunk away from the stands like a chastened dog.
    Time to hit the crap out of the ball. I stepped to the plate and got ready to take my stance. When I glanced at my bat I frowned. There was a two inch gash in the aluminum. Dang. But what had I expected?
    I threw the bat down and gave it a kick toward the dugout. Dust flew everywhere. Trying not to look at my coach, who I knew would be pissed, I grabbed a different bat and went back to the plate.
    I was ready. I watched the pitcher closely. I’d hit off of him enough times in the league that I knew what he’d probably do next. He tried to psych me out with a curve ball. I didn’t swing, and the ump called a ball. Same thing with the next two. Why did the pitcher think I would fall for a curve ball three times in a row?
    Maybe he’d gotten the message because the next one was a knuckleball and came right across the plate. I murdered it. The ball rocketed over the pitcher, past the second baseman and sailed over the heads of the two outfielders who were running backwards trying to catch it.
    Home run! Life is good .
    I trotted around the bases, taking my time, knowing I didn’t need to hurry. It was a home run, no doubt, and nobody could say otherwise.
    Addy was screaming, jumping up and down again. The other girls in the stands were at least turned toward the game but they still seemed bored. Maybe they were just watching Addy’s antics.
    I know I was.
    When my foot stomped down on home plate, the catcher took off his mitt and threw it angrily down in the dirt. A cloud of dust rose.
    My home run won the game.
    After high fives from my team and hand slaps from the losing team, I grabbed Addy’s hand and we hightailed it out of there. I knew that the rest of my team would want to go out and celebrate, but I only wanted to be with Addy.
     

Chapter Nine
    Addy
    A spark went through my