four

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Dane

It's a glorious Friday afternoon, and I'm standing on the mound, a baseball in my hand. Coach had decided that we were scrimmaging today, which was a relief after all of the physical conditioning of the week. My shoulders are tired from our lifting regimen, but my pitching is feeling really good.

I've struck out three people so far, and we're only in our second inning. I'm facing Grant. Like my life is flashing before my eyes right before death, that fucking night replays itself in my head. 

Amy and I had been making out in the kitchen, leaning against the fridge when Noah punched me in the shoulder. "Beer pong?" He asked me. 

"See you soon, babe." Amy gave me a deep kiss, her tongue sliding against mine. Her fingers slid down my abs and then to the front of my jeans, where she gave my cock a light squeeze. My brain instantly emptied as she gave me a sly smile. "Win for me." 

"Will do." I promised, leaning in to nibble her lightly on the ear and then kiss her neck. 

"Bro." Noah slapped me on the back. 

"Yeah, yeah." I grumbled. 

I followed Noah to the beer pong table, where we were up against Kingsley and the girl he was fucking, May. As gentlemen, we let May throw first. Then Noah and I absolutely crushed them. 

It took us less than five minutes, and then I was off searching for Amy. Unable to find her, I decided to go relieve myself in my bathroom. I walked up the stairs, wishing I had a couple more beers. I could use being a little more drunk at this party. It was all getting to be too much. It was so loud, and there were so many people. Most of them, I didn't even recognize.

When I approached my door, it was slightly open. I stared at it for a minute, trying to remember if I'd left it open or not when I'd gone downstairs to help Noah set up the keg. 

I pushed it open and found myself staring at Amy, her short skirt pushed up around her waist, and Grant all the way inside her. Their lips were pressed together, but I could hear them both moaning. 

"What the fuck?" My voice was louder than I'd anticipated. "What the literal actual fuck?"

"Dane!" Amy tried to sit up, but Grant was still in her way. He pulled out of her and turned to look at me. I got more of a view of Grant's erection than I'd ever wanted. 

"Oh, bro--" Grant began.

"Get the fuck out of my room." I said. "Just get the fuck out." 

Grant yanked on his pants and bolted for the door. I moved slightly and shoulder checked him hard as he tried to run past me. Fucking asshole. He stumbled, but kept moving, not making eye contact. 

"Dane--" Amy said pleadingly. 

"Get out." I was calmer than I'd expected. I'd never been cheated on before, but I felt shockingly calm as I looked at her. "Get the fuck out of my room." 

"Come on, babe."

"Don't 'babe' me. We're finished."

"Oh, please." Her voice was light, like this was something that happened every day, like I was the one being unreasonable. "This was just a mistake." 

"I'm breaking up with you. We're done. I need you to get out of my room." 

"Dane--"

"Get the fuck out!" I yelled. 

Pouting, Amy scurried from my room. Feeling my breathing become uneven, I ripped the comforter and sheets from my bed and stuffed them in a trash bag.

"Dane!" Coach's voice interrupts my memory. "You gonna throw?"

Not even looking at my catcher, I hurl the ball. It's a fast ball, straight toward Grant. It's high, and right at his shoulder. He jumps out of the way and I see him mouth 'fuck'. 

"In the strike zone!" Coach shouts at me. 

Grant resets himself and I find myself wishing that I could just fucking hit him in the nuts with a pitch. Deciding that now isn't the time to be a totally shitty person, and that I'm not going to risk my season for this asshole, I throw a beautiful curve ball. Grant swings and misses and I get the satisfaction that I always do.

It only takes me two more pitches to strike out Grant. I try not to smirk as he walks off the field. 

After practice, I refuse to shower in the locker room, not wanting to be around Grant a second longer than I have to. Noah doesn't shower either, since I drove him to school today, and instead follows me to my car.

"I thought you were going to kill Grant." Noah chuckles as we get into my car. "That was a fucking fast pitch, Dane." 

"Yeah." I mutter. 

"He's still our teammate though."

"Doesn't mean he's not a piece of shit."

"He's our best hitter." Noah tells me.

"I don't care." 

Noah chooses the smart path and drops the subject. 

"You figure out if you're going to get tutoring help for comp sci?" He asks.

"No." I mutter. "I just--" I sigh. "I can figure it out. It shouldn't be that hard."

"It is that hard." Noah tells me. "You can admit that you need help, Dane. The world isn't going to end." 

I hate when Noah is right. 

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