About the Author (pictured below) Susan DiPlacido has recently sold her first novel. It is slated for release in December, 2004. Her second novel is also under contract. She's now started writing short stories, and has been published in Slow Trains. Her short story, Coyote Blues, was a finalist in the 2004 Moondance Film Festival Competition.

Annie's got the ball in her glove and she's stalking back to the circle, pointing to the outfielders, moving them into the position she wants them in. Now she's glaring at me, shouting for me to get closer to the line and move up. That would be so that I can cover the bunt. Throat tight, I take a half-step in, because this other team is a bunch of slappers. They show bunt, but then pull back and slap at the ball at the last second and if I'm too close I risk taking a liner in my face. Annie swears at me and rolls her eyes, tossing one of her thick braids over her shoulder. I take another creeping half-step forward.

By the time Annie's got her foot set on the rubber, even before she peers in for the sign, I see her jaw throb. My throat loosens and I take another bold step in, because there won't be any slap-bunt coming. I know it, Annie knows it, Darcy behind the plate catching her knows it, even our coach knows it.

I don’t think the batter knows it. We're down here in Florida while everyone else is on spring break, sweating our asses off in the brutal sun in these polyester uniforms playing four games a day in this round-robin tournament. But this team is fresh to us, and Annie was really smoking in her other three starts, one just earlier today, so they don't know her MO. If they knew it, I'm willing to bet that batter wouldn't be moved up in the box, ready to square off already.

A few batters ago, Annie gave up a single. Then we got the out at first on the bunt. But then the next girl lined a single to score the runner. Annie doesn’t take to being touched up like that. And this current batter had roped a double off her back in the first inning. So as she takes the sign and nods without even a brush off, I know it doesn't matter if Darcy called for a rise, a curve, or a drop, because what's coming is the fastball.

Sure enough, the batter squares as Annie starts her delivery, and *whoosh*, somehow the batter bails just in time to feel the breeze by her ear as the ball pops into Darcy's glove. Annie glares at the batter as Darcy tosses the ball to her. Behind the plate, Blue stands up, points at her and gives her a verbal warning. My throat tightens again, and my leg twitches, wanting to take a step back now, but I don't want Annie to see me doing it. But as she turns her back to the plate, striding back to the circle, she smirks before licking her fingers and getting set again. I hang in where I am.

Sure enough, this time she nails her. It's nasty too, a fastball right at the batter's shin, and this time she didn't have time to bail. She lets out a yelp, Annie blows her a kiss, Darcy picks up the ball and wedges herself in front of the batter as she gets up and dusts herself off, and Blue stands up, points at Annie and hollers, "YOU'RE OUT!" He makes a swooping motion with his hand, it's very dramatic.

"Her foot was ON THE PLATE!" Annie yells back at him as Coach comes tearing onto the field, grabbing her arm, pulling her off instead of sticking up for her. What bullshit. He knew as well as anyone that the beaner was coming, and he didn't tell her not to do it, which is nearly on the same level as giving her permission to do it. But as he's leading her off the field, Annie gets in her coup de grace.

She passes the batter in the baseline, Darcy having gone back behind the plate, too exhausted in this heat to waste an extra walk down the baseline. Annie nods at the girl's shin and goes, "Look at that, I can see the imprint from the seams!" The girl glares at her and stops hobbling, but that's all. So Annie taunts, "Guess you're out of the running for the hot legs contest tonight at Booker's."

More of a silent glare.

Coach tugs on Annie's arm.

Annie looks the girl up and down and says, "Then again, I guess you never were in the running."

That does it. The girl grunts, lunges and grabs Annie by one of her heavy braids. Coach gets knocked on his ass as they wrangle about, or maybe he takes a dive out of the way. But Darcy comes sprinting out, so does the runner on second base, our first baseman, and the other team's coach. Annie and the girl are wrestling around in the dust on the ground, Darcy's pushing back the base-runner, just keeping her from joining the tussle and turning it into a melee. Darc pushes too hard though, and the girl pushes back. That's when pandemonium breaks out. Our Coach is up and trying to pull Annie and the other girl apart, the other coach gets slugged by Darcy as he tries to get between those two. Our first baseman and second baseman are now in the mix as a bunch of other girls rush by me off their bench to join the fray. One of them bumps me as she runs by, I go rigid as I spin away from her. That's when I look to the outfield and see not only our outfielders running in, but also five girls from the other team's bullpen trotting in tight formation, looking for all the world like a goddamn cavalry.

It's an old-fashioned melee, alright. "Stop it!" I yell. Of course, no one even hears me. Lungs tight, brow sweating, hands clammy, I toss off my glove and jog to the baseline along with a few other stragglers, pleading for them to stop. As soon as I dip in close enough to try and help a girl off the ground, a wayward elbow catches me in the ribs. "Dammit!" I hiss and cringe.

That's when the umps take charge. They've hauled our two Gatorade coolers from the bench. They heave and toss both icy buckets onto the pile, the plate ump bellowing, "BREAK IT UP!"

I feel worse for the girls on the other team, we're in our colors, but the other team is wearing their whites. All's we need is dollar Bud Lights, because with the catcalls now coming from the stands, as the girls separate, nipples saluting, it sure looks like we beat Booker's to the punch for the wet T-shirt contest later this week. I would die of humiliation if that was me, but most of them just seem pissed about being wet and sticky.

Things get cleared up and calmed down, the girl Annie beaned then provoked gets ejected along with their baserunner who took the first swipe at Darcy. So Kelly comes in to finish up for Annie. In the bottom of the inning, the ump warns their pitcher before I even step in the box, and she thankfully doesn't pull any payback business. I crack her for a double and we rally with a few runs and actually end up winning that game.

~~

"You ready, Princess?" Annie asks me, back in our motel room that evening.

"Um," I stall, deciding to change my shirt. "Why don’t you guys go ahead, I'll meet you there in a while."

"Here we go," Darcy sighs and moves to the door, Kelly following her.

The phone rings and Annie answers it. I exhale, it gives me more time to come up with something. We're roommates for this trip, and they're all ready to head out and hit Booker's for the night. It's this place just down the road that Kelly and Darcy found on their first night out. Not too many spring breakers hang out there, but all us girls have been going there because it's within walking distance and even Annie doesn't dare steal one of the school vans we packed ourselves into to make the road trip down here. So with all us and most of the other teams hanging out there, it's quickly become like our own little joint.

Into the phone, Annie's saying, "Yeah, we're almost ready, we're just waiting on cream puff to put on the finishing touches."

At the mirror, I brush on another coat of mascara to my lashes while Darcy huffs. "What the fuck are you doing, Rachel, come ON!"

"Oh, leave her be," Kelly says. "She's getting dolled up for going out."

I swallow hard. Still looking in the mirror, I work up the guts and say, "Acutally, I think I might not…"

"Yeah Darc," Annie interrupts as she hangs up the phone. "She doesn't wanna be taken the wrong way by anyone."

In her sneakers, shorts, T-shirt, and short curly hair, Darcy glares at Annie as she asks, "What way is that, exactly?"

"Ahh, KD Lang on a crutch," Annie sighs and flops herself on the bed. "Like a big dyke. Like one of us."

I look back at her in the mirror and she winks at me as she stretches out. Her braids are out and her dark hair falls heavy and straight down her shoulders, snaking across her exposed arms. In a white wife-beater, thick black belt, drab olive cargos, and Doc Martens, she somehow gives off this mixed message. She's butch alright, but pretty too.

"What bullshit," Darcy says, but rather passively. "Can we just go?"
Annie keeps looking at me in the mirror but says, "Ease up, Darc. You wouldn't like it if she tried to make you wear a skirt."

"Or even a bra!" Kelly jibes, cracking everyone up.

"Right on," Annie agrees. "So let her be who she is. It's not a crime to like dick, you know."

I've nearly lost my nerve to cop out of this tonight after her sticking up for me like that. Truth is, I do feel different from them. And I do feel excluded, a bit. On some levels, at least. I mean, they're always willing to hang with me, like now. But even Annie has walls with me. Like, when we're in a game, if I get a big hit, she always shouts and slaps me on the helmet. But if Darcy does something awesome, like blocking the plate, she'll hug her or slap her on the ass. And then Darcy of course will shake her butt or sit on Annie's lap as they laugh.

They always screw around like that, making jokes, being bawdy. Same with Kelly and some of the other girls. I asked her about it once, and it was one of the few times I'd seen Annie uncomfortable. We were hanging out at a bar at school, still underage at that time, but my boyfriend Jim got us in cause he knew the bouncer. That guy, the bouncer, he looked Annie up and down and winked at her. She licked her lips and gave him an air kiss as she brushed close to him and walked on by.

"How come you do that?" I asked her.

"What?"

"Hit on everyone. Even guys. I mean, you're not really interested in him, are you?"

"Oh, it's just having fun. Silliness. It's nice to get attention," she said as Jim handed us cold beers.

"Well you never do it with me."

She just looked at me dumbly, Jim laughed.

"I mean, like, when Darcy does something cool in a game, you hug her or pat her ass. But you never do that with me."

She just shrugged, said, "I give Darcy more props cause she's always working so hard behind the plate. She makes me better."

But that didn't explain Kelly and I said as much. That's when her back went stiff and she said tersely, "Because I wouldn't want you taking it wrong way and getting freaked out, Rachel. I know you don't swing that way." She took a long slug of her beer and looked down.

"But it's not like you're hitting on them," I said. "You don't have the hots for Darcy, do you?"

Jim cracked up soon as I said that. Beer came flying out of Annie's mouth and nose as she laughed and shouted, "DeGeneres sakes! FUCK NO!" She laughed so hard she nearly cried. "I know you're straight, but shit, Princess. Can you picture me with Darcy?"

"Not really," I said. I couldn't.

Jim spoke up then. "I could picture you with Gina Gershon," he said.

"Mmm, Gina," Annie smiled. "I could too."

Funny thing was, I could too. I laced my fingers through Jim's and leaned into him, then admitted, "Jim says he likes to picture you with me."

Cool as can be, Annie nodded at him. Saying, "That would be a pretty picture, huh?"

I gave Jim a quick kiss, he put his arm around me. He said, "Trust me, Annie, a lot of guys picture you with a lot of other girls. And they like it."

She got a sly smile, cocked a brow and said, "I know." Then she leaned back and took another long drink of beer, and that was the end of the conversation.

The day after that talk, I hit a gapper that scored two runs. When I came back to the dugout, Annie cracked me on the fanny as a congrats. It startled me, I wasn't expecting it and I jumped when she did it. She went back to hitting me on the helmet after that.

So that's part of why I'm loathe to blow them off tonight. But Coach forbade us to go to Booker's tonight, and I know he's going to work us hard in the morning before our first game. So I twist in my chair and say, "I'm realy sort of tired, you guys. Maybe I'll just stay in."

"Fucking almighty," Darcy says and opens up the door to leave. "Let's go."

"You sure, Rach?" Kelly asks me.

I nod.

Annie climbs off the bed and says, "You look gorgeous, Creampuff. Let's go. We'll have fun."

"Annie, I don’t know. I wanna be fresh tomorrow. You know those coaches will be there."

"Yeah," she says. "And they'll be at Booker's tonight. It wouldn't hurt you to get a little sociable with them."

"Oh, I don't know," I shake my head, determined to stand firm. "I don't know how that would look."

"It would look fine," she says. "Look. We all know Mikey T is a lezzy-loving perv. If he sees you out with us it can only help your chances. And this isn't like the college scouts, Princess. There's exactly ONE slot for a third-baseman on the national team. This is your chance to suck up to him."

"No," I shake my head. "Definitely not."

~~

So, twenty minutes later, here we are at Booker's. It's not too thick of a crowd yet. Nearly our whole team is here, and I can almost hear Coach ringing up our rooms and getting no answer and him fuming and planning extra running for us tomorrow in the early morning humidity. But there's plenty of girls from the other teams wandering in too, finding their own areas. And Annie was right.

They're here. All three national team coaches are here. Including the infamous Mikey T. He's hard to miss. With his thick '70s mustache and faded Hawaiian shirts, everyone knows who is, and who he's looking at, at all times. So when Darcy brings us another round, our loud toast must draw his attention, because he squints as he looks over, and I can see him searching each girl's face, trying to match her up with the player he sees on the field. We're a top ranked Division One team. It's only spring training, but we have a good shot at the championship this year, with a few bona-fide Nationals contenders on our team. Me among them. Last year, as a Junior, I led our conference in batting, RBI, and on base percentage. They've sniffed around a couple of the other girls already, but not me yet.

He rises and comes over, introduces himself to the group. Of course, it's Annie who rises and shakes his hand. When she sits back down, she leans back in her chair and lazily drapes her arm across the back of my chair. Mikey T says, "Good luck tomorrow," as his eyes graze across her breasts, then follow the line of her arm, dangling behind me. Finally looking up to my face, he squints for a second before saying, "Rachel, right?"

Annie leans closer to me, her hand slips across my shoulder. I know what she's doing, so I play along. "Right," I tell him with a smile.

"I've checked your stats. Impressive."

Rolling with it, I work up the nerve to place my hand on Annie's thigh. Mikey T goes, "I'll make sure to check you out in action tomorrow." Then he turns and saunters away so I pull my hand back.

"Oh what a fucking perv!" Darcy fumes when he's barely out of earshot.

Kelly giggles, saying, "Oh, he's harmless though, we all know that."

"Exactly," Annie agrees. "As far as kinks go, I can't think of a more reasonable one that watching women. And he's never laid a hand on any of the girls."

"Yeah, he just lays a hand on himself while thinking about us girls," Kelly says, making everyone giggle.

"You're right. Can't blame him," Darcy nods, gulps and burps loudly. "We are pretty fucking hot." Everyone cracks up. Darcy saying, "What? WHAT GODDAMNIT?" As everyone keeps laughing, she says, "Oh, fuck you all! And fuck you too, Annie, flirting with the breeder like that."

"Hey, I'm just giving her a helping hand," Annie says and finally removes her arm from my shoulders.

"Giving her a helping hand by giving Mr. Mustache an image to help along his hand!" Kelly cracks.

"What IS with that 'stache, man?" Darcy asks. We laugh. "I swear, he thinks he's Tom Selleck."

"Too bad none of us find that attractive!" Kelly shouts, and they all clink glasses.

"And this one throws herself at Rachel there right in front of him!" Darcy shakes her head again.

"Ease up, Darc," Annie says, but she's grinning. "I wasn't flirting with her."

"You were flirting!" Darcy disagrees. Derisive now, "You've got a thing for straight girls. You were copping a feel while you could."

"Oh you poor thing," Annie says, "If you think that's flirting or copping a feel, no wonder you're such a grouch, Darc."

Darcy laughs too. She gets off Annie and back on my ass now, "So, Rach. Why don't you enter that hot legs contest and make us some drinking cash tonight?"



I feel myself blush as I say, "No way." I feel myself blush harder as everyone chimes in, hooting and hollering for me to do it, cajoling me now.



"Come on straight girl," Darcy chides.



"You could win it, Rachel!" Kelly says.



"Why not?" Annie asks. "Strut your stuff, Sweet-pea!"



"NO!" I shout.



They hassle me a little more, but this time I am hanging firm. No way. I'd feel like an ass doing that. Especially if I lost.



Finally Annie backs them off. "Oh, let her be. Pumpkin's saving her strength for tomorrow." She reaches over and shakes my shoulder, gives me a wink.

"There you go, flirting again," Darcy scoffs.

Annie's eyes narrow, but not at Darcy. She's looking across the room at something, so I follow her gaze. "You wanna see some flirting?" she asks.

"Hey," I say, seeing the girl she's looking at. "Isn't that the girl you nailed in the shin today?"

"Yeah," Annie says, still staring. "And I do feel bad about that. She's a cutie."

"Then why'd you nail her? Then pick a fight with her?"

"Mating dance of modern athletic lesbian," Kelly says and nods.

"Shit," Annie says looking directly at me now. "Because she's cute, but that was a game. I had to do it. She was their best hitter." She stands up now, brushes her hair back over her shoulder.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Darcy asks her.

"See if she'll let me make it up to her," Annie says with a wicked grin.

"Oh hell," Kelly says. "What if she punches you out again?"

"No risk, no reward, ladies," she answers and starts to slink away with that Annie-walk of hers.

Darcy catches her wrist as she's going by. She says, "Don't make an ass out of yourself. She could be straight you know."

Adjusting her shoulders, Annie says, "There are no straight girls. Only girls who haven't met me yet."

Naturally we all watch her every move. Darcy stands, I presume readying herself to back her up should the girl be less-than-receptive to Annie's apologies or advances. It looks tense for about a minute as the girl and all her friends give Annie the fuck-eye. But, naturally, within three minutes Annie has them eating out of her hand. Within five minutes, she and the girl are alone up at the bar. Darcy sits and turns her back to them. I don’t know what Annie's saying, but I see the girl sitting down, stretching out her leg so Annie can inspect her shin. Annie's hand brushes along the bruise, she stares the girl in the face as she moves her hand up to her knee, lingers, then to her thigh. The girl smiles coyly. We all giggle and titter. It escapes no one's attention when a half-hour later they're making out, right at the bar. Kelly is the one to point out Mustache Mikey T across the room, staring at them in obvious rapture.

~~

Annie never came back to the room last night. And she shows up at the morning practice ten minutes late. She doesn't look hungover from too much partying though.

Our Coach, I don't know if he never figured out we'd snuck out last night, or if he's just that hot at Annie's brash tardiness. But when she shows, he pulls the rest of us off the field and lasers onto her.

"Since you obviously got more rest than everyone else here," he says to her, "you can do ten laps to even yourself up." It's this thing of his. A lap is once around the perimeter of the field. Usually on game days we only run a few laps to loosen up, and our pitchers, Annie, Kelly, and Mary, don't run any. But whenever someone pisses him off, they have to run extra.

"Coach," she says, "we've got four games today. I'm pitching two of them. You really want me wearing out my legs already?"

"Make it twenty," he glares at her. I can tell Annie's pissed, but she's not talking back. She tosses down her glove and starts off, Coach hollering after her, "Count 'em off!" That's another little smug touch of his. As they do the lap, the person has to shout what number they're on and hold up their hand, showing the number.

As she's completing her first lap, Annie comes round, and when she's dead in front Coach she shouts, "THAT'S ONE!" She holds up her middle finger in his face as she cruises by.

Ooooh, does his face get red, especially because the rest of us lounged in the dugout or sitting in the grass can't control our tittering.

~~

All those laps really are showing on Annie now. She pitched a shutout in the first game with The Mustache watching, and I had a single and a double, along with a stolen base that gave me a wicked raspberry on my thigh. And she's hanging like a bulldog now, but I can tell she's exhausted. The first batter drilled a single just out of my reach. I couldn't dive because my thigh was already burning. The next girl hit a soft looper over our first baseman's head. We tried to make a play at the lead runner at third here, but she came at me spikes out and I had no choice but to back off.

Annie's fuming on the mound, and as she gets set, the batter steps out. They've been doing this the whole game. It's a shitty tactic, to eat up time and keep her standing out in the sun longer. Unfortunately, even though it's a shitty tactic, it's also effective to wear a pitcher down. Annie threw a mini-fit about it in the second inning, but Blue didn't do anything to stop it. So she nailed the next batter that got cute, and Blue gave her a warning, so if she nails someone else, she's out of the game. Kelly's exhausted and sunburned, so I know she doesn’t want to hang that shit on her, and our third pitcher, Mary, she just sucks.

Finally, the batter gets back in the box. Annie takes the sign, sets, and delivers. The girl rips a rocket that I'm lucky to get out of the way from. Two runs score, the girl gets a double, and we still don't have anyone out with the heart of the order coming up. Umpire warning or not, I think we all know what's coming next.

Annie gets the ball back, tucks it in her glove, and circles the mound. I can see her jaw throb as she wipes sweat off her brow and stares out into centerfield.

"Come on, Annie," I say and clap, "you can do it."

Her jaw throbs again, and she turns and sure enough here comes the beanball. Only, she doesn't even take the mound. She wings it at me. Overhand! I don't have time to duck or move or catch it. Just ZIP-WHOOSH-THWAP, right onto my raspberry.

"Fucking hothouse flower!" she screams at me as the ball falls to the ground and I grab at my super-sore leg.

"Are you fucking crazy!" I shout as Coach runs out and calls time out.

We get it pulled together, she gets calmed down and gets the outs, but we end up losing that game 2-1.

~~

Ice is helping my leg. Annie's apologized like, a hundred times. It's ok, I do forgive her. She was frustrated, that's just how she is. I really am just whipped though, that's why I'm not going out to Booker's tonight.

Darcy and Kelly head out, Annie says she'll catch up with them. Once they're gone, she comes and sits on my bed. Offers to get me more ice for my sore leg.

"I'm fine," I tell her.

"You sure you don't wanna come tonight?"

"Yeah, well...I don't know."

"Come on, get dressed, I'll wait for you." She stands up, giving me room to start getting ready.

"No, it's just...Wanna maybe go somewhere else?" I ask her.

"No," she shrugs. "I'm meeting Cathy." That's the chick she beaned then made out with and stayed out all night with, doing who knows what.

"Annie. It's just…I don't know. I feel so out of place there. With all the girls." I put air quotes around that part. "I feel like a freak."

"Mm. Now you know how I feel just about everywhere but there."

"Oh, Annie. Come on." I wave her off.

"No, Rachel, you come on. We do everything to make you feel comfortable, and you still feel out of place. Think of how it is for us at school, at classes, at work, at the bars, at freaking McDonalds. Pretty much everywhere except on the ballfield or at a place like Booker's."

"Oh, you make me feel comfortable?" I say it cocky and sarcastic. "That's why you were making out with that chick at the bar last night. That's why you guys are always slapping asses and cracking jokes."

"Yeah, that's us, Rachel. That's how we are."

I sigh, then I say it. "Well I just feel like you're rubbing it in my face a lot of the time."

"Excuse me?" she says and takes a step back, raises her voice. "I'm rubbing it in your face because I was kissing someone I was attracted to last night?" Wagging a finger in my direction, she goes, "I don't climb on your shit when you suck face with Jim in front of me, Rachel. And you do that quite often. I don't consider you rubbing it my face. It's just you. And I respect that!"

"You're the one who says it's not a crime for me to like dick, Annie."

"Yeah, that's right!" She's shouting now. "But it's not a crime for me to NOT LIKE DICK either! There's nothing wrong with me liking pussy."

I flinch and tell her, "You're so crude."

"Oh, so it's ok to say that you like dick, but it's not ok to say that I like pussy?"

"Whatever." I sigh and look away.

"Look," she halts for a second and lowers her voice. "I'm going out. You're welcome to come."

"Yeah, well, I should rest. Maybe Mikey T will be at one of our games tomorrow."

"Ok, Princess," she says and turns to go.

"You better get back early tonight too," I warn.

Over her shoulder, she gives me a wicked grin, says, "I'm meeting Cathy again, so I doubt it."

"What about Coach?" I ask.

She halts at the door, stands there a second, then comes back and sits down again, her head tilted to the side. Says, "You really wanna make the national team, Rachel?"

"Of course!"

She nods, says, "You know you're good enough. You should make it."

I give her a small smile, feeling gentle toward her again. I know her competition is tough. She probably won't make it, and she knows it.

"But you won't make the team, Dollbaby," she says.

I'm stunned. Hurt. It's the rudest, cruelest thing anyone's ever said to me. Is she jealous and lashing out? Is she that pissed that I'm not going out with her tonight?

"I'm not afraid of Coach," she says. "You are, Rachel. You're afraid of everything."

"No I'm not," I say, blinking back tears. "Look, just go."

"I'm going out tonight to have fun. I'm gonna see Cathy because I really like her. This is our last year at this school playing ball, Rachel. I play because it's fun. But it's only fun because I give it my all. That's what they need on the national team. Not just talent. They want to see the drive."

"I have drive," I snap at her. Who the fuck does she think she is? I'm up at 6 in the morning every day running laps same as she is.

"You remember how you asked me why I never hug you or slap your ass?"

Of course I remember that. But I just stare at her.

"It's because I do that when someone makes a good, hard play," she tells me. "I cheer you when you get a hit, but I get really jazzed when someone plays this game right. Not like a fucking girl." This time she makes air-quotes around the word.

"I play the game," I snap.

"But not hard," she says. "You bail when runners come at you. You bailed today on two line drives in a row on the field!"

"I…I…those were scored hits, not errors!"

"They were scored hits because they never touched you!" she says. "You're too afraid of getting hurt so you don't go for it. It's how you've always played, Rachel. That's why I call you Princess. Not because you're straight."

"A line drive in the face would really hurt, Annie."

"Yeah, I know. I've taken a few. And then I kept playing."

"Oh, you're so badass, Annie, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she nods, staring right at me. "I am. Know why? Know what the real difference is between us?"

"I suppose you don't feel the pain? You don't get scared? Is that what you're telling me?"

"No, Rachel. I'm as scared as anyone else. And I feel pain. Same as you. Same as everyone. I just don't let it stop me."

Now I'm pissed. How *dare* she? "I can't risk getting hurt!" I snap at her. "I'm here on scholarship, Annie!"

"That's fine," she shrugs. "That's a fine answer for before. But what are you waiting for NOW then? We're seniors. This is it. There is no more for us after this, Rachel."

"There's the national team. The Olympics!"

She snorts. "That's what I'm telling you, Kitten. If you don't start playing this game for real, there won't be any Olympics. Mikey T likes beefy stats. But he loves heart even more. It's time to show him that."

"Heart," I snort. "I thought he liked tits."

She just shrugs. "People can say what they want about him, but our national team takes the gold every time. If you want to be a part of that, you have to start playing like you mean it."

I scoff. "Oh I see. No guts, no glory. Is that what you're telling me?"

"Oh, Rosie O'Donnell help me," she snorts. "No, not guts and glory. We're not MEN, Rachel. Fuck guts and glory. It's time to just have some fun, honey. That's all. Just have some fun."

She gets up while I'm still speechless and leaves the room.

I call Jim. He's up in Daytona for spring break. I guess I sound as lonely and pissed as I feel, because he's drunk and I can hear the ruckus in the background. But he says he'll drive down here tomorrow for the last couple of days.

~~

The sun is really roasting today. We had a short rain delay earlier, but it stopped as quickly as it started, and instead of clearing some of the humidity from the air it only served to make it stickier as the steam seems to be rising from the ground now.

I festered all night, furious at what Annie said to me. But I drank plenty of juice at breakfast, and I'm wolfing energy bars before our first game and it seems to be working.

We're playing Annie's new girlfriend's team again today. I saw Annie wink at her from the mound at the start of the first inning, and that infuriated me. Heart my ass. She's just crass and ballsy, that's all. Worse, when her girlfriend, sweet little Cathy, got in the box, Annie shut it right off and went after her like a demon. She didn't even fuck around throwing junk, she buzzed three straight fastballs right by her, and let me tell you, sweet little Cathy was swinging damn hard. Darcy tripped her as she was walking away. I thought that was uncalled for.

As I get in the box, all those energy bars seem to pile up on me and a shot of adrenaline rages through me. This pitcher's been bringing heat, but I'm quick. She's fast but flat, and when she lays the first pitch down the gut I drill it to the outfield and take off. Thinking, heart that,Annie, you ,jealous bitch!

I get to third fairly easy. Then Darcy tries to do too much with a curve and she ends up getting under it and slicing it into shallow right. I wait on base and take off as Annie's Cathy catches it. Sight forward, running hard, I'm shocked when the catcher nabs the ball on the fly and starts to get set behind the plate. I wouldn't have gone if I knew Cathy had a gun like that! Too late now, I'm caught half-way, a sitting duck. Annie's girlfriend screwed me, how fitting! Thinking her name – Annie, it's a thunderbolt of rage through me. Condescending bitch! I'll show her. I don’t fall to a slide. I barrel in, head first, full throttle.

I crash in, we both go down as everything gets jangled. I don't hear what Blue calls it. The ground is tilted and I'm dizzy as I feel someone pulling me up – Darcy. She's screaming and hugging me, I guess I was safe. Things in the distance start to focus, and more sounds seep in. As Darcy's walking me back to the bench, everyone's clapping and hollering, patting me everywhere. I blink and focus, Annie's coming at me, arms out, whooping, a big smile on her face. I push her away roughly and stalk to the end of the bench by myself. Coach comes over, hits me on the knee, saying, "Good job, Rach. Way to hang in there." He holds a towel out to me, but I just look at it blankly. He points to my head, so I reach up and touch it. There's some stickiness there at my hairline. I take the towel and dab, but there's only a little blood.

Top of the next inning, as I'm grabbing my glove, I stumble a bit, and Coach sees. He tells me to take a seat.

"I'm fine," I tell him, making sure it's plenty loud for Annie to hear.

He says, "We've got three more games today. Take a couple aspirin and just let your head clear now." He looks up and down the dugout. Finally saying, "Kelly! You up for a little infield for a few innings?"

"Sure," she tells him and grabs her glove. "I played plenty of shortstop last year."

"Yeah, well, be on your toes," I warn her. "That ball comes at you a lot faster at third base."

"Yeah, especially when Annie's on the mound," Kelly goofs and winks at Annie who flips her off.

"Could be worse," Annie says. "Mary could be pitching."

"Yeah, no shit!" Kelly agrees. "When she's out there it's more like being on a rifle range than a ballfield."

"Hey!" Mary shouts from her corner. But I laugh. It's funny cause it's true.

As they take the field, I lean out and scan the stands. Jim's there now, waving to me. He looks tan and happy. I wonder if he saw my play at the plate. He pumps his fist in the air, then points at me. He saw it. I give him a little wave, then keep looking. Sure enough, Mustache Mikey T is watching too. Of course. Scouting me while I'm on the bench. Perfect.

We hang on and win that game, 1-0. I'm fine by the next game, don't even have a headache. The only lingering effect is my anger. I smother every ball coming at me in the field, even diving and nabbing two of them that should've gotten through the hole.

The game after that, a girl hits a homer off Annie in the fifth inning, and of course Annie beans the next batter. I happen to be due up first the next inning, and I swear Annie smirks at ME after nailing the girl. Smirking because she knows she's screwed me for the payback.

Naturally, when I go in, the first pitch buzzes me and I barely get out of the way. I glare at Annie in the dugout, and she blows me a kiss. We're down 1-0 in this game, it's the top of the 6th. Instead of hanging back, ready to bail like I usually would, I swallow hard through my tight throat and dig in for the next pitch. Here it comes, right near my ribs. We need baserunners. So I lean into it and take one for the team.

It hurts alright. Hurts really bad. But as I'm holding my side and walking down to first, it's already subsiding a little bit. Just like how I got jangled and shaken at that crash at home earlier. Just like how when I dove it rubbed my already sore raspberry even rawer. It hurts, but it fades.

Their pitcher watches me walking. She says, "You can thank your pitcher for that little bruise you're going to have."

And I say, "Well, I appreciate that you threw the change-up instead of the fastball, because that really would've hurt."

She fumes. She had thrown the fastball at me.

I realize, it's the most fun I've had playing this game in years.

After Darcy knocks me in with a gapper to deep left, I go to the dugout, take the high-fives and pats, and walk down to the end of the bench where Annie's sitting. I give her a big hug.

After the game, Jim can't stop talking about how great I was today. He gets a room at our motel, and I move my stuff into his room and get showered and dressed there. Not to get away from the girls, but just because I missed him. I like hanging out with Jim, I'm comfortable with him. We go to Booker's that night. Jim and I are at the bar, he's holding my hand. Annie's further down the bar, holding hands with Cathy. A couple girls from another team walk behind me, one of them hissing, "Breeders. Like we need to see that in here." Another answering her, "It's disgusting."

I feel small and out place, like a freak. I squeeze Jim's hand and nudge closer to him, he kisses me on the cheek. I realize I've heard people say things like, "lezbo-bitch," and "freaky dyke" behind Annie's back plenty.

We won all four games today, and Cathy sends Jim and me a round of drinks.

The Mustache comes over to me, I introduce him to Jim. Mustache says, "Rachel, can I speak to you for a minute?"

"Sure," I nod and follow him. He taps Annie's shoulder and asks her to come.

He sits us at a table, leans in, mustache nearly twitching. He goes, "I'm very impressed. With both of you."

My heart thumps against my ribcage. I take a drink to clear my throat.

"You know I have very little room. And I'll be honest here. Rachel, I've been aware of your stats for a long time. But I'd never watched you play, and, frankly, I hadn't heard very good things. Word was you didn't really give 100%. But that's not what I've seen."

"Mr. Trimbal, I know I sat out those couple innings today…"

"That was a hell of a hit you took, Rachel." He nods to my forehead, slightly bruised. "But you came back after it. And that catcher was a rather, um, husky girl," he grins.

Annie and I laugh, politely.

"You showed a lot of heart today. I was impressed."

Inside, I'm not drunk yet, but I'm glowing.

"And you, Anne. You're good," he nods. "Everyone knows it."

Heavy silence.

"But," he says.

Of fucking course he says BUT!

"It's tight competition. I have to be certain. I have to have 100% confidence, because this is one team. Our national team, ladies."

Annie and I just nod as his eyes wander up above us, gazing at something behind our backs.

"I'm not quite ready to make a final decision yet. But you have impressed me." He rises and holds out his hand. I shake first as he says, "Good luck on the rest of your season."

And then he wanders off.

"Well. Fuck," Annie says, turning around, looking up.

I follow her gaze, my heart does a bunny rabbit rapid pitter-patter as my throat gets tight. I take a deep breath and say, "Let's play this game."

Annie nods.

I get Jim and pull him right up front, knowing he gave up plenty of this sort of thing to come and hang out with me. When it's time, I grab Annie's hand and hold tight. She gets doused first, and I feel her jerk and recoil, a few splashes of the cold water hitting my arm. It's not enough to get me adjusted for the icy shock when it hits me full-on, but I don't turn away. I can't squelch a small yelp though as the water hits my stomach, my chest.

A gaggle of girls is around us, shaking, strutting, and gyrating, giving it their all. I thought I'd be humiliated. A wet T-shirt contest, how fucking sexist. Is it still sexist if we're putting on the show for mostly other women? Shit, I don't know. Annie's laughing, still holding my hand, and I nearly feel sorry for all the other girls, because it's a given that she'll win. Out to the crowd, she blows a kiss to Cathy, and I spot Darcy and Kelly cheering us on. And there's Jim.

Naturally, he's loving it. I wink at him, then see Mustache. He's drinking everyone in, just standing there placidly, holding his beer, but not moving, eyes going up and down every girl in order. When he's inspecting the girl next to Annie, she releases my hand and puts her arm around me, telling me to smile wide for him.

I do her one better. I put my arm around her neck, turn her to face me, and lay a kiss right on her lips. She's shocked. So shocked she just stands there, stiff. But I don't let go. I smooch her again. It's just cool water and soft skin. My throat loosens up. It's different from Jim. Not quite my thing, but nothing bad either. Finally she relaxes and kisses me back, trying not to laugh.

When we pull apart, I see Mustache, staring at us. Smiling. Smiling big. I bet he's certain now.

Kelly's cheering wildly, clapping and yelling and jumping. Darcy, I can practically see the steam coming out her ears.

Jim's standing there, gape-jawed. His beer fell on the floor, but he's not bending to pick it up, he's just staring. In rapture.

I'm in for a wild thank-you reward from him tonight.

My arm still around her neck, I lean close and shout in Annie's ear, "How was that?"

And she yells back, "You kiss like a girl!"

Damn right. Damn proud of it, too.