Red Flags

by C. C. Brown

  Jason came around to my side and helped me out of the truck. We walked back into the hotel, not saying a word. All of the people, who I swore had disappeared when Jason and Mila strolled into the lobby, were now painfully staring at Jason and me. I guess my fantasy about us being the only people in the world at that moment, was nothing more than an obvious jealous rage put on display for all of Las Vegas to see. Jason didn’t seem to mind the attention and kissed my hand as we walked to the elevators. The ride up to the 10th floor was quiet, but serene. The earlier tension and rage has dissipated but the unease that I felt the closer we got to my floor began to rise. Jason led me out of the elevator and down the hall towards my room. I took a deep breath, and we opened the door to find a rather peaceful scene. Chelsea was lying back on the pillow playing on her IPad, Kate was on the phone, and Mila was in the shower. Jason kissed me softly then backed up and turned to walk down the hallway.

  I walked lightly into the room and threw myself on the bed next to Chelsea. Kate looked my way and shot me an apologetic grin, to which I smiled back. Chelsea gathered me in her lap and just hugged me. I sat and pondered how my life had become so complicated and how I’d lost one of my really good friends in the process. Mila and I may not have had the strong bond that Chelsea and I had, but she was very close to my heart, and at this very moment, I couldn’t even stand the look at her face. I had never been that drama filled girl, who seemed to have Oscar worthy breakdowns following her every step; yet, I was now being thrown into more nonsense than I ever cared to witness. Jason had me so topsy turvy that I couldn’t figure out which way was up and which way was down. I didn’t know if I wanted my relationship with him or not, and I couldn’t even think about carrying on a friendship with Mila. I had become the girl that I swore I would never be.

  Chelsea’s phone buzzed and she silenced it. She was gently massaging my head and I was so grateful that through all of this, she has been my steady, constant rock. She had been there to pump me up, and act as a comforter when I needed her. She wanted what was best for me, and wasn’t afraid to make me see when I wasn’t getting it.

  The commotion in the bathroom ceased. The door opened, and my eyes locked with Mila’s. She stopped, standing in the doorway with her pajamas on, and a towel wrapped around her head. She didn’t say anything to me, her expression impassive. I didn’t return any sort of emotion her way. She walked past the bed, over the where Kate was sitting, talking on the phone, and began applying lotion. I sighed, and shifted my body so as not to look at her any longer. I lay on Chelsea until I fell asleep, with her massaging my head, and the room laced with awkward silence.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning we woke up with all seriousness. It was playoff day, and it seemed that we all had woken up with the same mentality. The ordeal that took place the night before had been washed out of my head, or better yet, pushed to the back burner. We got dressed and went down to the team breakfast room where only the team was allowed. Our coach wanted us focused and relaxed for the game. I took my seat next to Kate and had a big bowl of oatmeal, fresh fruit, scrambled egg whites, and a large glass of orange juice. We ate with light chatter about the room; Coach threw in his inspirational speech to make sure we were pumped and ready to go. I had never been so ready in my life. I was being called on to lead my team and I knew that they were relying on me to win this game for them.

  The drive to the campus was a short one. We unloaded our gear and strode confidently to the fields. Warm-ups usually took about an hour and we arrived with time to spare. I went through all of my pre-game rituals: stretching, threw a light bull pen, stretched a bit more, then had the trainer massage my arm and back muscles. I had been doing this for the past four years that I had worn an SSDU uniform, and it never ceased to bring tranquility over me.

  The first three innings were nothing more than a pitcher’s duel, with us each striking out more batters than had actually put the bat to the ball. My dad was a perfect display of proud parent under control; my mom was anything but. She was jumping out of her seat on almost every pitch, screaming at the umpire, hiding behind my dad; just altogether losing it. Ryan and Jason were sitting next to my parents, and the picturesque feel that was the bleacher scene was unlike anything like the turmoil that had unfolded before my eyes the night before.

  After the sixth inning, Chelsea pulled the team into a huddle and gave one of her no holds barred, in your face, pep talks. We still hadn’t scored, but we were starting to put the bat on the ball a little more. We knew that being patient, yet aggressive, was the key to winning the game. Mila was first up to bat that inning, and connected with the ball, sending it into right center field for a long single. Kate came up behind her and sacrifice bunted her over to second. Chelsea was up and took a couple of balls before fouling off the next two pitches. On the very next pitch, she connected and sent it soaring to the center field fence. The ball was scorching to the fence for what looked like a homerun, but the ultra-speedy ULV center fielder ran back to track it down, crashing into the fence. She got up in a hurry and threw the ball back in to the infield, trying to catch a retreating Mila who went on the hit. Our right fielder was next up and unfortunately struck out.

  Mila was stranded at second base, and it was up to me to keep the game going for extra innings. The crowd was a mix of emotions. Our fans were disappointed, but trying to keep their spirits up for the defense. The ULV fans were pumped, trying to get their team to score and end the game. Chelsea stopped me at the entrance of the dugout and whispered in my ear “you’ve got this,” before heading out behind the plate. I ran to the pitcher’s circle, my place of tranquility and threw my warm up pitches. I had to work hard to quell the anticipation building inside of me. The first two batters were small slappers, who easily grounded out on the infield. The next batter was their best hitter, and after throwing her two balls, I finally whizzed a strike over the outside corner. On the next pitch, she took a large swing and fouled it straight back to the fence. The next pitch, a change-up, was lined into left field for a single. I sighed, but was grateful that it was just a single and not a homerun.

  Our coach called a timeout and gathered all of the infielders around the pitcher’s circle. Our game plan was to go right after the next batter. Their best hitter was on first base with two outs, so making a less aggressive hitter have to beat us was the plan. Chelsea called for two straight change-ups, which the batter completely whiffed at. With a 0-2 count, going right at her wasn’t a good option since she had come out swinging. I threw a rise ball that ended up near her neck and she laid off of it. I threw another rise ball that she also laid off of. Our coach signaled for Chelsea and she gave me the change-up sign again. The defense shifted to the left, seeing as this was a left handed batter, and if she got ahead of the change –up, she would pull it. I reared back, and threw the best change-up I could, and she made contact with it, sending it screeching into right center field. Once the ball left her bat, time almost slowed down. The play developed in slow motion for me. The ball looked like it was traveling on a frozen rope, and I saw our right fielder, Jenn, and our center fielder, Kate, both moving with all of their might to get to it. Jenn dove and it tipped her glove, but no catch. I sprinted behind home plate as back-up because the runner was moving, her coach waving her home. Kate picked up the ball and threw a hard strike to Mila, who threw the ball to Chelsea. The play was going to be close, and as the runner came in with a thundering slide, the ball smacked into Chelsea’s glove. The runner knocked her over, and they both went tumbling in the dirt. All sound ceased as we all stared -- players, coaches, and spectators alike, waiting for the umpire to make the call. The umpire made the signal for safe and my heart fell out of my chest. The ULV players rushed home plate, throwing themselves on their player, screaming emphatically. Their fans were celebrating in the stands, high fiving one another, all while our fans were consoling one another. I helped Chelsea out of the dirt, and our team came to meet us, and we shook hands with the other team
.

  Heading into our locker room, I had never felt so defeated. This was the last collegiate softball game I would ever play, and I felt like I had let my team down. The tears were flowing all around the room, even from our coaches. Coach gave a rousing speech, letting us know how proud of us he was, and how great of a game we played, only to come up short. I couldn’t help but feel the sting in those words. Chelsea was crying in the corner, and I slid down the bench to console her. We stood in a tear filled, sobbing embrace. She had been my rock in so many ways, over so many years, that this was the least I can do for her.

  Walking somberly out of the locker room, we were greeted by our fans who had lined the walkway to cheer us on for a great season. My mom threw her arms around me and sobbed just as loudly as I did, maybe even louder. As quirky as she could be, decked out in her SSDU gear with matching hair bow, she had been my biggest cheerleader and I knew it hurt her to see it all end this way for me. Ryan gave me a hug and just allowed me to cry into his chest. He didn’t say a word, and I was thankful because right now, I didn’t need any words. I let him go to throw myself into Jason’s big muscular arms. He took me in, allowing me to cry while running his hands over my hair. He rubbed my back with his other arm and I had never felt so loved. The anger and tension from the night before was non-existent. I felt Jason let me go and I turned to see my dad, my best friend, my protector, opening his arms and welcoming me in. He kissed my forehead, and just held me. In my dad’s arms, I felt like everything was right in the world. My sobbing got heavier and heavier as he lowly spoke words of encouragement into my ear. My dad had been the one to introduce me to the game. He had worked with me on every aspect of the game, had traveled miles, paid numerous dollars to watch me, perfect me, and now, it had come to this. He pulled me back from him, and as I looked him in the eye, through water filled eyes of my own, I couldn’t help but smile at the gorgeous smile that was plastered across his face. “Cars, I am incredibly proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this and we don’t always come out victorious, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. Hold your head high, you are a Pinkston.” And with that, he left me to my teammates.

  We gathered all of our equipment and loaded it into the vans. Tears were still being shed, but pride, pride in our players, our coaches, and our fans was emanating through all of the sadness. That may have been my last game with SSDU, but I had so much growth and maturity to thank that softball organization for. Chelsea and I were last to load up in the van, and we sat, our heads touching, slowly crying together.

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  Hunter suggested we go out, to celebrate an excellent four years, but also a hard fought game. I wasn’t too keen on the idea, but Chelsea convinced me that sitting around, wallowing, would do nothing to help my bad mood. Ryan suggested the Coyote Ugly bar at the New York New York Hotel, and secured my dad’s SUV for transporting all of us. Kate went down to the pool with some of the other players, while Mila went to Ryan’s room, Chelsea went to Hunter’s, and Jason came to mine.

  Jason knocked on the door a few minutes after Chelsea left, and I let him in, still in my dirty clothes, and knotted hair. He took me by the face and kissed me passionately, taking me by surprise. His tongue was on overload, and I could feel the frustrations of the last 24 hours exiting his body. He pulled back and smiled genuinely at me. I reciprocated the smile and kissed him again. When we pulled away, he lay down on the bed, and I walked to the bathroom. He lay on his stomach, watching my every move. I started up the shower, and undressed, untied my hair, and placed my towels in their precise areas.

  I stepped into the steamy shower, that mirrored a sauna at this point, and while I stood with the water raining down on my head, Jason stepped in behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and placed soft, tender kisses on me from one shoulder to the other. He moved to my neck and I threw my head back to allow for easier access. The kisses and small suckling on my neck sent sparks down my spine, and I could feel a slight tingle in my crotch. It felt like it had been an eternity since I had had Jason in the most intimate way and my body was craving him. He moved his hands up to my breasts and continued his gentle assault on my neck. I put my arms up, and grabbed his head, roughly running my fingers through his hair. We turned, and the water poured down his head. He smiled his All-American boy smile, and whispered, “I need you.” His words were my undoing, and I somehow managed to prop myself up into his arms, without slipping, and started my own assault on his neck. The water barreled down on us and did nothing to slow or deter me, as I continued, with more velocity with each passing second. Jason let out a low, deep moan, and I took my cue to lower myself from his arms. I dropped to my knees, and took him in my mouth before he even had a second to react. I took him forcefully, and his moan turned into a deep growl, a growl full of pleasure. I used one hand to move swiftly up and down his shaft, and the other to hold his behind to keep him firmly in my mouth. I used my tongue to lick, and tickle him, as he moved his hips to my rhythm. His hands were firm in my hair and he pressed me to him with every ounce of his being. Just as I started strong suckles, Jason pulled me up and turned me around, all in one graceful move. I looked back to him, to meet his smile. “I don’t want to cum like that,” he said lightly, and pushed my hands up against the shower wall.

  He eased himself into me, allowing the water to act as a lubricant. I gasped, and let out a low moan, and he matched me. We moved in a slow, sensual rhythm. The carnality of our previous escapades was noticeably absent. Jason continued his slow, tenuous teasing. I would have loved nothing more for him to slam into me, and jerk me around, but that didn’t seem to be what he had in mind. He was caressing, nurturing, and enjoying every inch of my body. His hands trailed down my back, and as he made his way to my hips, he grabbed ever so gently, making sure not to put too much pressure on me. His hands glided to my breasts, and his thrusts began to pick up speed. I tried to mimic his movements, which only made him move more. When it became too much, I surrendered myself to him and allowed him to take full control of my body. I could feel him moving harder and faster, but then, he stopped. He turned me around, and I was left speechless, wondering what made him halt such an excellent session. He picked me up, and quickly slid back in. My worry dissolved, and he picked right back up where he left off. In a low growl he whispered in my ear, “I want to see your face when I make you cum.” My excitement erupted like a volcano, and it didn’t take long until I was screaming with pleasure, my body quivering, and my walls ready to crumble around him. He pumped into me a few more times, with every ounce of himself, and we let out our combustible orgasms together. I had my eyes closed, but when I opened them, Jason was standing me up in the shower, with a wolfish grin plastered on his face. I lowered my eyes, still trying to settle myself from the aftershocks of my release, and he shook his head and grabbed the shower sponge and body wash.

  “All I wanted to do was take a shower after being out in that hot sun all day.” He said, very disingenuously.

  “Really?” I replied, sarcasm on top notch.

  “Yes, really. Then I was distracted, and pulled in by your force field.”

  “Well, you need some self-control.” I kissed his cheek, and we washed each other.

  Jason left his towel wrapped around his waist and exited my hotel room, much to my surprise. He winked at me and shut the door leaving me alone.

  A few minutes later, Chelsea came back, her earlier melancholy mood long gone. She was raving about Coyote Ugly, and how she once snuck in when she was only 18 with some cousins of hers. We rummaged through our bags and pulled out frayed denim miniskirts and halter tops. I grabbed my black sandals, but Chelsea pulled them from my hands and tossed me a pair of her killer stilettos. I’d never cared for such high standing heels, but I had to admit they looked hot, and she swore they elongated my legs, and would make me irresistible. I decided, out of utter laziness, to just throw some mousse and hair spray into my hair and wear it curly. Besides, Jason liked my hair like this anyway. Chelsea took m
uch longer getting ready: straightening and curling her hair. She sat me down in front of the mirror and went to work on my face. I had to give it to her, if she wasn’t set on a career in Education, then she would make a phenomenal make-up artist. I looked like a supermodel by the time she was done with me.

  There was a light knock on the door, and Jason and Hunter were standing on the other side, looking handsome as ever. Jason was in dark wash jeans, a button up black shirt, and a fresh new pair of black Sperry’s. His tousled hair looked like he had done nothing but run his hands, with a slight pinch of gel through it. He looked delicious, and if Hunter and Chelsea were not standing right there, I would have gone for round two.

  The ride in the elevator to the lobby was filled with smooth caressing and laughter. By the looks of things, Hunter and Chelsea spent their afternoon much of the way that Jason and I spent ours. I appreciated the good sex session because it seemed to have lifted the moods of all of us. Stepping down into the lobby, I saw Ryan dressed to the nines. He looked so handsome. His blond hair perfectly scattered about his head. Mila looked like a sex kitten in a tight, all black mini dress, paired with, at the least, four inch heels. Her long black hair was curled ever so slightly at the ends. I’d admit, she looked hot, and they looked amazing together.

  The line for Coyote Ugly was a mile long and the bar was packed. Jason walked up to the front, showed the guy an ID and gave him some secret guys only handshake. The guy patted him on the back and waved us all in -- the perks of being Mr. Jason Bradley. We walked in to a dark, bar with metal scraps and quirky bar signs strewn about the walls, a bar full of half-naked women dancing on it, with a large American flag as the backdrop. The musical theme was Top 40, so there was an eclectic mix of music blaring from the speakers. Jason whispered in my ear that he was going to the bar for drinks, and Ryan and Hunter followed him. Mila and I still hadn’t spoken since the events that transpired the day before, but we pretended that all was well and just decided to have a good time. As we are dancing together, we saw the guys at the bar throwing back shots. Ryan limited himself; thankfully, since he was our driver, but Hunter and Jason seemed to be engaged in a shot taking competition. A few minutes later, they came back with drinks for us. We drank, danced, and laughed. The bar patrons started screaming for girls to go on the bar and Mila wasted no time pulling Chelsea and me up front and center.