Free The Boyfriend League by Rachel Hawthorne

I couldn’t deny I was disappointed tonight. Brandon and Mac were back on the field. That should be enough. But I really wanted to see Jason play.
    Bird nudged me. “So go talk to him.”
    â€œI’m not going to talk to him.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI’m here to watch the game.”
    â€œOh, come on, Dani. He’s probably totally bummed because he struck out. Give him a pep talk. You’re hosting him. You need to show him support. Be there for him. Who else does he know?”
    â€œMy dad—”
    Crack!
    I heard the crowd gasp. I looked up. Pain suddenly ricocheted between the front and back of my skull. From far off, I heard Birdscreech, felt hands grabbing me, saw the red, white, and blue fireworks bursting around me, and had a split second to wonder why the game was already over….
    Right before the world faded to black.

Chapter 10
    N eedless to say, I missed the real fireworks.
    I woke up to find some hottie leaning over me. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
    I wondered if he was just here for the summer and needed a family to live with. Hadn’t I seen a recent headline: FAMILIES NEEDED TO HOST HOTTIES?
    â€œTwo,” I replied. I realized I was lying on the grass. Hottie was on one side, Dad on the other.
    â€œWhat day is it?” Hottie asked.
    â€œTuesday.”
    â€œWhat’s your name?”
    â€œIs the game over?” I asked.
    â€œFor you it is. What’s your name?”
    â€œDid we win?”
    â€œHoney, tell the guy your name,” Dad said.
    â€œDani Runyon.”
    â€œGood girl,” Dad said, patting my shoulder.
    â€œWoof, woof.”
    Dad laughed. “She does that whenever I say ‘good girl.’ She says it sounds like I’m praising a dog. So she’s okay, right? She remembers our little inside joke.”
    I thought he had tears in his eyes. Why would he?
    â€œYeah, she seems to be,” Hottie said, “but you probably should take her to the hospital for a thorough exam. She’s okay to transport in a car. We can take her in the ambulance, but you’ll get billed for it, when it really doesn’t seem to be necessary.”
    So Dad took me to the hospital. I’d never been to an ER before. I couldn’t figure out why they called it an emergency room, because no one moved like anything was an emergency.
    And the hard plastic chairs were so uncomfortable. I lay my head against the pillow of my dad’s arm.
    â€œYou gave me quite a scare there,” Dad said, holding my hand. His hands were roughand calloused from all the building he did. I loved them. They were incredibly comforting.
    â€œI didn’t know getting hit with a ball could knock you out,” I said.
    â€œIf it hits just right, sure. That’s the reason the city always has an emergency response team at the game. You never know, and we don’t need lawsuits.”
    The lights were bright and hurting my eyes, so I closed them. “I didn’t see much of the game. What do you think of the team?”
    â€œI think we’ve got some talent this year.”
    â€œHow ’bout Jason? How’d he do pitching?”
    â€œDid good. Tired out in the fourth. They got a couple of hits off him. It happens.”
    â€œDid you call Mom and tell her? Not about Jason. About me.”
    It seemed like my thoughts were zigzagging all over the place. I couldn’t concentrate on one subject for long.
    â€œYes. She was going to come over here, but I told her not to worry. It’s just routine.”
    â€œIs that why it’s taking so long?”
    â€œProbably.”
    We actually sat for almost an hour and ahalf before they called us into the examination room. Apparently since I was lucid, I was considered nonpriority. It was after eleven when I was released with a list of things to watch out for. (Number one on the list being inability to wake me up; yeah, being dead might be a bit of a