The Mascot: A Fan & Player Baseball Romance

by Ana Shay

  Taking slower steps, she finally came into view.

  Not Cali, but Mary.

  She was so small that Penn had to bend his entire torso to talk to her. His hand grazed the side of her arm like he was pleading with her. Her face said it all; she was unimpressed and annoyed at something he did.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Mary snipped, my ears pricked. I shouldn’t have been listening in, but they talked so loudly it was hard not to.

  Penn didn’t notice me coming as he looked to the sky, exasperated. “What was I supposed to do? Nothing?” He said, frustrated.

  I was at the point now that I needed to speak. Otherwise, they might say something I couldn’t unhear. “Hey guys,” I said loud enough so it would jolt them out of their conversation. They both whipped their heads, looking at me. I played innocent, pretending I didn’t know I was interrupting something, and pointed between the two of them. “Were you two busy?” I asked; there was so much tension brewing between them, even I could feel sweat trickling down my back. This was awkward. I should have kept walking, but my need to speak to Cali overrode anything else.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  They answered at the same time. Mary spun on her heels, eyeing Penn with the same look Cali gave me the other night after she accused me of proposing to Sam. Speaking of, I need to change my phone number. After blocking her the other day, she’s now using other people’s phones to call me. It’s pathetic and strange, but I’m not curious enough to answer the phone to see what she wants. “You didn’t interrupt anything,” Mary stressed. Believable. “What is it that I can help you with, Tate?” Her sugary voice took over, and the PR manager in her was out in full force, completely ignoring Penn.

  I scratched the stubble on my chin. “I was just, uh, wondering if either of you had seen Cali?” Yes, I sounded like a desperate teenager. I didn’t care at this point. I wanted her to stop ignoring me. I must have looked as desperate as I felt because the look I got from Mary was nothing short of sympathetic and slightly pathetic.

  She opened her mouth, probably to let me down gently. But Penn interrupted, shaking his head. “Cali’s busy tonight; she’s dressed – Ouch! What’d you do that for?” He scolded Mary, who just elbowed him on the side with an angry glare. “I’ve got to pitch tomorrow. If you’ve screwed up my flow, I’ll kill you.” He said, rubbing his side.

  He hardly noticed when Mary pushed him, rolling her eyes before looking back at me. She pointed to Penn with her thumb, huffing, “Athletes. So sensitive to any injury. Last month, Penn cried because he had a blister.”

  “It was on my throwing hand.” He defended, glaring at Mary, “I was off the rotation for two weeks until it healed. That’s two weeks with no scouting potential.” He turned to me, but it was obvious he was still talking to Mary. “Since you’re in such a sharing mood. Why not tell Tate how I got this injury in the first place?” He flashed her a cheeky smile, and as much as Mary tried to keep a stony face, a blush crept up her cheeks. I just walked into something I hadn’t intended. I think they might have been having a lover’s tiff.

  Mary closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took deep, calming breaths. “Cali’s busy working tonight, so you won’t find her down here.” She said; Penn snorted, looking up to the sky in disbelief. Was I missing something? Jonah said everyone would be down here. I will kill Josh if he’s forcing her to miss the party.

  “Is she at her desk?”

  Mary’s eyes widened, and she flailed her arms around like a headless chicken. “No. No. Don’t go up there to see her. She’s really busy, and you’ll just stress her out.” Penn was watching Mary almost as intently as I was. She muttered something inaudible under her breath before focusing back onto me. “Look, I know you mean well, and you want to talk to her, but I think she needs a little time. She’s got a lot going on with work. Give her some time. She’ll come to her senses soon. This whole situation is just a lot for her. She’s not used to being with someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” I exasperated watching Mary walk away with no further explanation. Why did women always do that to me? They all seem to think I’m smart, and I’ll eventually figure things out on my own. I’m a baseball player, for crying out loud. I’m not a brain surgeon. “Why is she upset?” I called one more time, hoping Mary would take pity on me. She didn’t.

  “You really like my sister a lot, don’t you?” Penn said behind me after a few moments of silence. See, he just proved my point. Baseball players aren’t the quickest on the uptake.

  “Don’t sound too surprised,” I muttered.

  He chuckled, glancing around the venue. “I’m not surprised at all. My sister is amazing, and any guy would be lucky to have her.” He said with conviction. “She’s smart, beautiful, and sweet. It’s just she has this terrible tendency to not see blaringly obvious things that are right in front of her.” His gaze moved to Catty, who was posing and dancing with some fans and stayed there. “Cali doesn’t date much. In high school, only five guys were taller than her, and she was awkward. She didn’t think anyone would be interested in her, which was a lie.” He flicked his eyes back to me. “Then in Senior year, a few guys started to show interest. They were popular and stopped by the house a few times, asking to speak with her. She completely ignored them because she didn’t believe they’d be interested in her over the short cheerleaders at school.” He shook his head. “From what I’ve heard from Mary, these guys had it bad, and they tried really hard to get her attention, but she didn’t seem interested.” He glanced at me then bowed his head. “Sorry. I’m going off on a tangent. Basically, it was undeniable that these guys liked Cali, and she decided that she wanted nothing to do with them for no apparent reason except her own stubbornness. Once they gave up and started dating, said cheerleaders, she used it as verification that she was right all along.”

  “They sound like idiots if they gave up,” My jaw was tense. I hated the idea of other guys going anywhere near her but giving up on her was worse. “But what does that have to do with me?”

  Penn shrugged, “Not much. Just that she sees what she wants to see sometimes instead of what’s actually there. Anyone with two brain cells can see how obsessed you are with her and would ignore those magazines. Cali seems to be the only one reading them and taking them seriously, which is funny because, with the amount of hours she’s working at the moment, I didn’t think she’d have time to read all that crap anyway.”

  I take some time to process what he said. I think there was a compliment for me in there somewhere. Cali was stubborn. From what I can surmise, she has decided I’m like these guys, and I’m not that interested in her. Well, if she thinks those guys showed her indifference, I’m going to have to show her obsession. “Hey Penn,” I clamped my hand on his shoulder. “Do you remember I mentioned a pitching session with Grayson?” He nodded. “Well, I think I might have an idea, but I’ll need your help.”

  “Sure.” He replied, and I held back on smiling too broadly. I hope this plan will come together.

  Chapter 25

  Blood pumps through my body as my heart beats faster, watching the scene unfold before me. You’d think I’d be used to the feeling of sweat trickling down the back of my neck since I’m usually drenched in my mascot costume. Nope. I still hate it. Rolling my shoulders back, I adjusted the bill of my North Davidson High baseball cap, doing my best to ignore Dad’s viciously loud hot dog chewing and focus on the field. With all this adrenaline pumping through my veins, you’d think I was the one out there pitching. Penn lifts his right leg, expertly throwing the ball. The batter, number two in their lineup, thinks it’s a fastball and hits as hard as possible, only to spin on his heel, completely missing the sinker.

  Strike two.

  “Yes!” I clapped, punching the air and cheering at the fans around me. Half of them look bored or disinterested. We may be three hours in, but I’m just as excited at Penn’s high school games as when I’m watching t
he Catfish play. Admittedly, there hasn’t been a homer or a run scored by either side to get people excited, but that’s what the Mascots are here for. Colonel Clucker, Penn’s team mascot, sat next to Clayton’s Bacon mascot, and they’re boring as heck. Only the occasional cluck was leaving Clucker’s beak every now and again, and the bacon was hardly sizzling. It’s not the team spirit or hyping up I’d expect from my feathered friend and packaged food foe. I’m considering going down there and helping them out, albeit I’m too engrossed with Penn right now to focus on much else.

  Using my hands as a megaphone, I yelled. “Come on, Penn!” If he could hear me, he ignored it, solely focused on getting this batter out. Bending forward, he glared at the hitter with tight lips. If he gets this strike, he only needs to get one more batter out to finish the inning. I don’t know if it’s the potential scouts or that this is his last game before the playoffs, but he’s playing like a beast. Penn sets himself up for another throw, and I hold my breath, closing my eyes.

  Strike three. You’re out.

  I cheered so loud; I had to apologize to the old lady in front because she dropped her phone on some teenager’s head in surprise. Penn looked pumped. He walked around the mound, doing that angry pitcher walk while the batter kicked up dust, twirling his bat and sulking back to the dugout. “Go, Penn!” I was ecstatic. What a great outing for my brother.

  I felt a tug on my jersey, and my mom was clawing at the bottom of it. “Cali. Sit down. You’re making a scene.” I nearly laughed. She rarely came to baseball games with dad because she’s usually too busy running her hot yoga classes. She certainly doesn’t fit in with her long, dangly jewelry and headband, that’s for sure. Since it was Penn’s last game, she wanted to make an effort, and it’s endearing that she’s wearing his jersey over her paisley dress, even if everyone else thinks she looks a little odd. She watched Penn do his pitcher mound walk and pointed. “See! You’re distracting him.” She said, adjusting her blonde hair.

  Rubbing her shoulder reassuringly, I said, “Relax, mom. Pitchers do that all the time. Besides, he’s got to get used to adoring fans if he’s going to be a starting pitcher in the MLB.” I hollered Penn’s name again as he continued pitching to the next batter.

  She growled, bringing her hands to her ears. “All the noise you’re making is messing with my energy and flow. I don’t know how Penn is dealing with it down there. He’s already riled up; I think you’re making it worse.” She commented after he got another fastball strike.

  My Dad let out a pandering laugh as he drank a soda. “I don’t think it’s Cali’s behavior that has him riled up, dear. I think it’s more to do with the fact that half of the Carolina Catfish are over there watching him.” He pointed with his eyebrow, and I spun my head around to see what on earth he was talking about.

  My cheering arms fell to my side as my brain tried to compute everything that was going on. What the… Players, almost all the Carolina Catfish players, were occupying an entire stall worth of seats. Their wives and kids were here too, laughing and having a good time. Didn’t they have something better to do than come to a high school baseball game on their day off? How did I miss them before? Clearly, I was too focused on the game to care about the audience. My eyes roamed the seats, knowing who I was looking for but refusing to admit it to myself.

  They stopped.

  He was sitting right in the center of the stands. While everyone else watched the game and Penn pitch, Tate’s hazel eyes were focused entirely on me. “Aw sweetie,” My mom cooed, still trying to forcefully make me sit. “Did you arrange this for Penn through work?” She asked.

  When Tate noticed me looking, a slow smirk grew on his face, and he lifted his hand up to wave. I couldn’t move, in fear that my parents would find out that Tate was waving at me. I may not have mentioned to them that we’d been dating, too worried they would think it was inappropriate. I kind of wish I told them now. Maybe I would have ended it before it all really started, and it wouldn’t feel like I have poison ivy growing around my heart. Lethal to keep and too dangerous to remove.

  I slumped onto the bleacher, trying my best to think of an escape plan that didn’t involve seeing Tate. As if he doesn’t play enough baseball, he had to come here and infiltrate my time with my family to prove a point. Yes, of course, I melt whenever I’m in his presence, but that doesn’t mean we should be together. Especially with all the press, he’s been getting recently.

  Mary yelled at me the other day when she caught me reading one of those magazines at my desk. I couldn’t help it; there’s still no sign of that Sam story dying down, and there was a mention of the mysterious blonde in the parking lot. I wanted to know if they had more information on me. They didn’t. As far as they were concerned, I was a rebound, and we were finished.

  “Yeah,” I said faintly because my mind was still trying to catch up with everything that’s going on. Penn had thrown another three pitches by the time my brain decided to focus back on the game. It was a full count. This pitch needed to be a strike. Otherwise, the guy is walking to first. I clasped my hands together, doing my best to zone out and only focus on my brother.

  Strike Three. Out.

  I punched the air when he got that final out, so proud of Penn and his performance. “Go, Penn!” A familiar voice shrilled from behind as my arm slowly descends. What’s she doing here?

  Glancing over my shoulder, “Mary?” I said in confusion, scanning the bleachers for my best friend.

  “Mary’s here?” My mom perked up, following my gaze. “I haven’t seen her in months. How is the little thing?”

  My brows crossed, searching the bleachers, trying to prove myself wrong. “No. She’s not here. That wouldn’t make any sense.” Still, I can’t stop looking. That’s when a springy movement stops me. She is here. Jumping on the spot, her hair bounced in the wind while she smiled at Penn like he hung the damn moon.

  Did I miss something? Or is this all just a terrible dream? Maybe I’m in Penn’s dream. He is playing better than I’ve ever seen him, and Mary’s looking at him like he’s her boyfriend.

  “Mom, can you pinch me?”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t ask.” Mary hadn’t noticed me; she was angled so that if I wasn’t looking, I wouldn’t have been able to see her. “Ouch!” I grabbed my arm from the sudden shock of pain, looking down at my mom.

  “You told me to pinch you.” Well, at least I knew I wasn’t dreaming.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” I said with no further explanation. I shuffled past my Dad, who told me to say hi, through the parents, making my way towards my petite pal.

  The closer I got, the brighter she was smiling at Penn. She still hadn’t noticed me. I’ve never seen her so focused on something before. “Mary.” She jumped at my voice, and her mouth opened in surprise.

  “Cali?” It was like she was shocked to see me at my own brother’s final game of the year.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked skeptically, watching every part of her face, looking for a tic.

  Her eyes darted around the stadium, avoiding eye contact, or coming up with an excuse. “Um. Tate invited me.” Her voice rose with every word, a tell of her lie.

  I cocked an eyebrow, watching her eye twitch and her foot tap. “So, you knew Tate was coming, and you didn’t think warning me would have been a good idea?” I almost wanted to believe her because the alternative would be too weird and creepy to comprehend.

  “No.” She said it without thinking and then swore, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “I mean, yeah, I did know, but -”

  I raised my hand. “Save it. I know you’re lying. Why are you actually here?” I waited for her to answer, hoping she would tell me it’s because she wanted to see me. All I got was the twist of her lips. She knotted her hands together and danced on her feet. Last time I saw her this nervous was when she was hoping Jimmy Greer would ask her on a date. Sadly, it never happened. “Mary,” I said softer than I felt. When you wanted h
er to admit something, you needed to treat her like a scared mouse. “Are you here to see Penn?” I asked the question I didn’t want to know the answer to.

  A blush blared across her cheeks, and I could feel my eyes growing. “You are?!” No answer. “Is there something going on between you and my brother?” I asked, staring down at her nervous form. She said nothing, just watched me with a guilty look smacked across her face. I feel like I can’t process everything. Too much is happening all at once.

  Tate’s here, along with all the Carolina Catfish team. It’s Penn’s last regular season game ever. Mary, my 23-year-old BFF, has been secretly dating my brother. I know I’ve been living in a Tate hole the last few months, but how did I miss this? I’m replaying every look, every conversation they’ve ever had, and keep coming up empty.

  “When did it happen?” Silence. I wait. And I wait for her to say something. Anything that will help me figure this whole thing out, but she’s still silent. She lets out a hesitant breath as her eyes flicked over my head.

  “Hey, Cali.” The voice glided into my body, soothing the poison ivy growing around my heart, and I rolled my eyes. Tate appears at the worst times, I swear.

  Mary skipped over to Tate, happy she had an out. “Hey Tate,” She squealed, giving him a hug. She looked down at my shoes and then back to Tate. “I guess I’ll leave you guys to talk.” She said sheepishly. “I’ve got to go talk to someone else anyway.”

  “If you’re referring to my brother, we’re going to need to have a serious conversation,” I said sternly, watching her disappear into the crowd of fans, completely ignoring my last sentence.

  When I turned back to Tate, I had steel behind my eyes because I was already angry about this new development with my best friend and brother. It meant I had no time to deal with how Tate made me feel with one slight look. When his eyes met mine, it was like someone was poking tiny needles into a pincushion. Like he was piercing my soul with that single look, and I didn’t like it. It felt too intimate. Too familiar. “What are you doing here?” I asked, bored with how much I’ve had to ask that today. Why couldn’t this have just been a simple Collins Family outing?