Was he serious? Did he really think I’d say no to the opportunity to watch the Texas Rangers?
But more importantly, it was an invitation for an official date. Not an appreciation outing. I mean, usually you have the date before you have the kiss, but then I wasn’t a real stickler when it came to traditions. I could go with the flow.
“I’d love to go.”
“Great.”
“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “Great.”
Chapter 21
“Omigod! I need help!”
I’d just pulled my Ragland Rattlers T-shirt on above my denim shorts when Tiffany burst into the room in a full-scale panic the next morning.
My heart started to thunder. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know what to wear.”
I stared at her as my heart resumed its normal beat.
“Excuse me?”
“Mac invited me to go to this ball game with him today…and it’s, like, what do I wear?”
I grinned and pointed to my hat rack. “Pick a cap, any cap.”
“You’re not serious?”
“Tiff, it’s a ball game in an open stadium. And we’re riding a bus to get there. You want cool and comfortable.”
She held up her hand and closed her eyes like the thought frightened her. “Just tell me exactly what to wear.”
She did the whole makeup thing, of course. I fixed her hair. Pulled it back into a ponytail.
“One elastic fits all,” I said, grinning at her in the mirror.
She was wearing a pair of designer jeans and one of my older Ragland Rattler T-shirts. I settled a cap on her head, pulled her strands of hair through the opening in the back.
“There, you’re all ready to go,” I said.
She peered in the mirror, and I could see the doubts crossing her face. “I guess it doesn’t look too bad.”
“You look great.”
She swiveled around. “Are you okay with me going with Mac?”
“I’m fine with it. He and I…we never really connected.”
“He’s so funny.”
“He is?”
She nodded. “He says I make him feel like an Internet search engine with all my questions, but he’s okay with it.”
“He thinks you’re hot.”
“Really?”
How could she doubt that any guy would find her hot?
“Yeah, he mentioned it yesterday.”
“I just don’t want to embarrass him at the game.”
“You won’t.”
“And don’t take offense, but we’re not going to hang out near you, because that would be too weird, since you were dating him.”
“Not a problem.”
“You and Jason…it’s a date, isn’t it?”
“Um…yeah.”
“Probably shouldn’t tell Mom and Dad.”
“Probably not. At least not yet. I mean, it might not work out.”
“Puh-lease! Have a little faith in yourself.”
Miss Teen Ragland had just delivered encouragement.
Jason and I were holding hands in the parking lot of the Ragland ballpark, waiting for the bus to arrive. He was wearing jeans and a Ragland Rattlers baseball jersey.
As a matter of fact, all the guys were wearing the same thing. I figured they had to go as representatives of the team.
“Tiffany and Mac?” Bird whispered, when she and Brandon joined us.
Tiffany and Mac were standing a short distance away, talking. Actually talking. Imagine that.
I shrugged. “What can I say?”
Then we heard the bus rattling up the street. It was an old school bus.
“Ah, man,” Jason said. “For this event, I thought they’d use something other than our usual transport to the games. I thought it would be…you know…one of those air-conditioned fancy buses.”
“We’re not in the majors yet,” Brandon said.
“I’m really sorry,” Jason said.
“Hey, no big deal.”
“Let’s at least get on first, so we can sit in the back,” Bird suggested.
Everyone seemed to have the same idea. By the time Jason and I got on, the only seat I saw was the one right behind the bus driver. And two of the coaches were sitting across the aisle. I so didn’t want to sit there. Then I heard someone calling my name—near the back of the bus.
And there was Bird, jumping up and down, waving her arm. Not quite at the back, but close enough. She was on one seat and Brandon was in the seat behind her. I don’t know how she managed to get on the bus so far ahead of us, but I wasn’t going to complain.
Jason and I made our way back there, and Bird hopped out of the seat and sat beside Brandon. I slid in so I was beside the window. The window was down. I thought about putting it back up, but it was almost a hundred degrees outside. And the bus wasn’t air-conditioned. I was sorta wishing I’d worn skimpier clothes.
“All right!” one of the coaches yelled. “I’m going to call out the roster and make sure everyone is here.”
After Jason answered to his name being called, he looked at me and grinned. “So have you ever watched the Rangers play in person?”
“Oh, yeah.”
The coach finished calling the roster. Everyone was there, so we took off. With the wind blowing through the windows, we all had to remove our caps. My hair was whipping around my face. I heard a screech from the front of the bus. Tiffany, learning to deal with flying hair.
There was too much wind noise to talk. Bird tried to start a conversation, but it just didn’t work when we had to yell in each other’s ears. The ride was really bumpy. Not exactly the perfect atmosphere for an official first date.
Of course, we weren’t the only busload of people to arrive at the ballpark. We had quite a little hike across the parking lot, but I didn’t mind because Jason was holding my hand again.
“First stop, concession stand,” Brandon said. “I’m starving.”
“I don’t know if I can ever eat concession-stand food again,” Bird said. “Now that I know how hard they work.”
“But these people are paid, Bird,” I reminded her.
“Oh, that’s different then, isn’t it?”
“Most definitely.”
Jason handed me my ticket. “If the bus ride is any indication of what we can expect, I suspect the seats aren’t anything to write home about.”
“Do you write home?” I asked.
“I e-mail my mom and brothers,” he said. “Now and then.”
“Will they ever come watch you play?”
“Probably not. They come to the university games, but they’re busy with their own lives, and I don’t think they’re that interested in the collegiate league.”
I couldn’t imagine that.
“I love the collegiate league,” Bird said, snuggling up against Brandon.
We went through the gate and headed for the concession stand. The guys got in line. We obviously weren’t the only ones with food on our minds.
Bird and I headed for the ladies’ room. Tiffany was there, brushing out her tangles.
“So what do you think so far, Tiff?” I asked as I started combing my hair.
“I’m thinking next year we need to have some sort of fund-raiser. These guys deserve better than old school buses.”
“If anyone can make it happen, it’s Miss Teen Ragland.”
“Next year, I’ll just be Tiffany.”
She put on her cap, and I tugged on the brim. “I think Tiffany can make it happen, too.”
“Especially since you and Bird will be on my committee.”
She walked out before we could respond.
“Did she just volunteer us?” Bird asked.
“Yep.” I dropped my comb into my tote. I put my cap and sunglasses back on. Next year’s fund-raising committee was the last thing I wanted to think about. For the next couple of hours, I planned to focus on this year’s team, this year’s pitcher.
Tonight’s date.
&n
bsp; While the odds seemed against it, we somehow ended up with our seats together: Brandon, Bird, me, and Jason, in that order. We were surrounded by other team players. Tiffany and Mac were several rows above us, which assured Tiffany and I remained comfortable with our dates.
“I can’t believe it,” Bird said. “How did you guys manage to get our tickets together?”
“We knew you’d want to sit together,” Brandon said, leaning over and kissing her. “So we made it happen.”
I had a feeling there was going to be a lot of kissing going on between those two.
“Hope the seats are okay with you,” Jason said.
“They’re great.” I squeezed his hand. “Really great.”
Our drink was in the cup holder between us. We were sharing a drink, but had our own hot dogs. Nothing’s better than a ballpark frank.
We finished eating just as they asked us to stand for the national anthem. After the song ended—with no additional flourishes—they welcomed the Ragland Rattlers to the game, flashing our team name on one of the big screens. We all started yelling, waving our hats.
“I wish we’d brought our rattles!” I yelled over the crowd. If we’d known that we’d be recognized, Bird and I would have for sure.
We took our seats and the game began. It got really quiet in our section, and I realized these guys weren’t really here for the enjoyment of the game. They were here to pick up tips. Jason was leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs, watching the windup, watching the pitch, following the ball.
I leaned forward, too. “Do you find it hard to be loyal to a team that you’re only a temporary member of?”
He glanced over at me. “What brought on that question?”
“Well, you’re here as a member of the Ragland Rattlers, but I’d think deep down, you see yourself as a member of your college team. I mean, if a reporter asked what team you play for, wouldn’t you say the University of Texas?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I would, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel any loyalty to Ragland. I mean, I’ll play my best until the end of the season.”
“I know you will. But it must feel strange.”
“A little, yeah. I mean, there are guys on the team who I’ll be pitching against next season. I’ll be trying to strike them out; they’ll be trying to get a hit off me. It won’t be anything personal. It’s all about the sport.”
Austin was a four-hour drive from Ragland. “Maybe I’ll come watch you play next season,” I said.
“That’d be great.”
And I knew I was getting way ahead of myself, but when he was looking at me like that, looking at me instead of the players on the field, I thought. Yeah, I’ll go to Austin and watch you play.
Jason turned his attention back to the game.
“These guys are watching the game like it’s a homework assignment,” Bird said after a while, leaning forward so she could talk to me in a low voice.
“It’s their jobs, I guess. It’s probably hard to take pleasure in something that is so important to you. When I’m a reporter, I’ll probably stop actually watching the news that’s being covered and focus instead on how it’s being covered. I’ll listen to voice inflections and observe various stances. That sort of thing.”
The cotton candy vendor walked down the aisle. Bird and I each bought a bag—blue for her, pink for me. It was a real treat, because we didn’t sell cotton candy at the Ragland field. I pulled off a wisp of sugar and felt it melt as soon as my tongue touched it.
I looked over at Jason. “Want some?”
He grinned. “Sure.”
I pulled some off, held it out to him. He opened his mouth slightly, a challenge in his eyes. I don’t know why I’d thought he’d take it from me.
Finally, he said, “I don’t want to get my fingers sticky.”
Oh, right. I got really warm, but I pushed the cotton candy into his mouth—and couldn’t help thinking about a bride shoving the cake into the groom’s mouth.
Jason’s lips barely touched my fingers as his mouth closed, and I pulled back, but I got that much hotter, had felt his breath skim across my knuckles. It was so intimate, so personal, like something you’d do with someone you had a serious crush on. Much more intimate than spooning him ice cream. With ice cream, there was the distance of the spoon, not to mention that it was cold.
“I haven’t had cotton candy in forever,” he said. “I’d forgotten how…sugary it is.”
“It’s pure sugar.”
“I wonder who invented it.”
“I think it was a dentist.”
He laughed, a laugh that revealed his perfect smile, his perfect teeth. “I’ll bet you’re right.”
There was the crack of the bat, and our attention was once more on the game.
Between the fourth and fifth innings, they had the Kiss Cam going around. A heart was displayed on a big screen in the stadium and a camera would zoom in on a couple. The couple would then kiss. There was an older couple with white hair—had to be married. Then they moved on to a couple of kids, who just laughed and waved.
Then there was Jason and me. On the big screen. A big red heart around us. I felt my face turn as red as that heart. I heard Bird squeal and felt her punch my arm, thought I heard Tiffany shriek behind me.
“Kiss him!” Bird ordered.
The camera stayed on us. I knew it would until we kissed. I turned my head to look at Jason, but he was already there, kissing me, while the spectators screamed and applauded, especially the Ragland Rattlers.
I guess it was official—we were on a date.
The Kiss Cam seemed to trigger the real start of our date…or maybe it just served as an ice breaker where kissing was concerned. Because after the entire stadium had seen us kiss, Jason wasn’t quite so shy about kissing me anymore. Not long, slow kisses, not the kind of kisses that you didn’t want broadcast on national TV, but kisses just the same.
Whenever the pitcher struck out someone…kiss.
When the Rangers got a hit…kiss.
When they got a run…longer kiss.
He held my hand, smiled at me, and just seemed really glad that I was there. I was glad I was there, too.
During the seventh inning stretch, we stood up and sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” Jason and I swayed together. I couldn’t have been happier.
The Rangers won.
“See how it makes a difference when rituals are honored?” Jason said, his arm around my waist keeping me anchored against his side.
“I’m too happy to argue,” I said.
We stopped off in the gift shop, and he bought me a Texas Rangers cap.
“Maybe you can start decorating a wall with caps from the games we go to,” he said.
I grinned broadly, because I knew what he was really saying: Tonight was just the beginning for us.
It had grown dark by the time the game ended. The air had cooled off a fraction. Everything seemed so much quieter as we walked to the bus.
“Saw you on the Kiss Cam,” Tiffany said when we got behind her and Mac, waiting to get on the bus. They were holding hands. She looked happy.
Mac and Jason did that whole nodding at each other thing.
Somehow Jason and I ended up on the very last seat. Maybe everyone else was just too tired to walk that far.
Jason put his arm around me and drew me up against his side. Once the coach called the roster and everyone was accounted for, we headed home. It was really dark on the bus. It didn’t seem as windy. Maybe because Jason was holding me close.
Then he kissed me. A really long, slow, deep kiss. A kiss that made me see fireworks.
When he pulled back, I could see him grinning, even in the darkness. “I love the flavor of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.”
“You know where you can always get a taste,” I said.
He kissed me again.
Chapter 22
We kissed pretty much the entire bus ride home. Jason was a fantastic kisser.
&
nbsp; When the bus finally arrived at the Ragland ballpark, I said good-bye to Bird, then Jason took my hand and led me to his car. I didn’t see Mac and Tiffany, but since they’d been sitting at the front of the bus, I assumed they were already on their way home. I figured Mac was feeling a little strange spending time with my sister, after spending time with me.
But I was totally okay with it. It wasn’t like we’d ever really connected. And from the beginning, I’d felt like he’d only become interested after he saw me as a Tiffany clone. So now he had the real thing.
Jason held my hand as we drove home. When we arrived, Mac’s car was in the drive, so Jason kept going. He made a couple of circuits around the block, until Mac’s car was no longer there.
Jason pulled into the driveway, turned off the car, and kissed me.
Then it got kinda weird. It was like: Where should our last kiss be?
In the car? At the door? Inside the foyer? Outside my bedroom?
I just didn’t know. I’d avoided giving any real thought to how I would go about having a boyfriend living in my house. I mean, I’d never planned for the guy I fell for to be living in my house, across the hallway. What if my parents figured it out?
We would have to be so careful.
Jason drew back from the kiss and pressed his forehead to mine.
“You know I could kiss you all night,” he said.
“Me, too.”
I was such a romantic, but I was also nervous, because I knew no way we were going to be kissing in my parents’ house all night.
“But I’m feeling kinda weird about it,” he said.
“That whole liking-the-daughter-of-concession-stand-who-are-giving-you-a-roof-over-your-head thing?”
“Yeah.”
“I know. If my parents caught us…”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe we need house rules.”
He pulled back. “Like what?”
“No kissing inside the house.”
“Ever?”
“Well, at least not when Mom and Dad are home. Dad jokes about putting potential boyfriends through an interview process, but he may be serious. It’s hard to tell sometimes with him.”
“It felt like he was interviewing me that first night.”