Chapter 6 : Batter Up

*Jane*

Noah’s sudden change in mood took me by surprise. I tried hard not to take it personally, not when I knew that it most likely had nothing to do with me. And it wasn’t like he’d been overtly rude, just…distant. Colder than he’d been this morning.

Still, I hate the sudden flip.

“Don’t worry about it too much. Athletes tend to be very emotionally volatile when it comes to their sport,” Rachel says knowledgeably. “I can guarantee you that he’ll come crawling back to apologize for brushing you off once he realizes what he’s done.”

It took a solid ten minutes of in-depth information poaching of my last conversation with Noah before Rachel ascertained that what he did wasn’t worthy of a red flag. Once she was sure of that, she tried to get me to relax and see that it wasn’t as bad as I thought at first.

I knew even before her advice that it must’ve been related to the practice session he had. Granted, I still don’t know much about baseball. Noah’s thorough explanations weren’t going to turn me into an expert overnight, but I do know that it looked like he was doing an amazing job during practice.

And he’d looked so proud of himself when he finished, only to walk away from the dugout with a cloud hanging over his head. I didn’t like seeing him like that. But Rachel was right. This was a world I knew very little about, one with its own sets of rules and pressure.

“Yeah, I get it. Sort of,” I reply glumly.

Rachel bumps up against me teasingly. “Is that love sickness I hear in your voice, Jane? Is that what this is?”

“Shut up.” I shove her lightly and she laughs. I smile but stay quiet.

I know Rach is just pulling my leg but it does beg the question about why Noah’s mood change affects me this much. I’ve been with a few popular guy types before, ones who always put something else above their girlfriend and lacked the self-awareness to even feel guilty about it. That was something I never wanted to go through again. I had too much self-respect for that.

Plus, I’ve only known Noah for a short amount of time. We had one date.

Logically, there should be no reason for me to feel as consumed by this as I do, but for reasons that trump all sense of logic, I can’t help it. Noticing my silence, Rachel nudges me with her elbow.

“Hey. Everything’s going to be okay. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll reach out to you to make it right.” As usual, her matter-of-fact optimism puts me in higher spirits. “Now, let’s focus on more important stuff, like how the hell we’re going to get through this next stats assignment. Do you think we could convince Daniel to let us copy his notes?”

I suck in a breath, happy to be falling back into our usual sort of banter that doesn’t revolve around Noah. “Who exactly is 'we'? That doesn’t sound like something two honest, hardworking students would do, Rach.”

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re always gunning for the top student spot,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Not all of us are academic machines, you know.”

“Are you not also here on a full-ride scholarship?” I remind her and she waves her hand dismissively.

“Scholarships need to be maintained. And it’s a little bit difficult to do that when I’m trying to make the most of collegiate life.”

“In other words, you have another party coming up soon,” I guess and she gives a noncommittal shrug.

“There’s an aftergame party tonight so, yes. Life is short, my friend, and we all have our unique gifts. You have your brain and the ability to multitask exceptionally well. I have Daniel,” she concludes, and I laugh in amusement.

We’re approaching the building which hosts our shared class and as we draw nearer, the man himself looms into view.

Daniel Paterson leans back against the wall just outside the lecture theater we’re about to enter. Slightly taller than average and slender, he’s cute in an almost nerdy way. His sandy brown hair is always well-trimmed and he has a kind smile that immediately put Rachel and I at ease when we were fumbling around looking for a class during our first week here.

Daniel was the one who offered to help us, and the three of us sort of stuck together since then. When he sees us, he waves happily and we go over to join him.

“Hey, Dan,” I say and notice the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Hey, Jane,” he replies.

Rachel suggested almost immediately after we first met Daniel that he might harbor a small crush on me. While I denied it at first, I couldn’t help but notice over time that it did seem to be the case. He was kind to everyone, but I picked up the extra bit of attention he’d pay to me, and the way he tended to focus on me almost exclusively despite whatever group setting we were a part of.

But the best thing about Daniel is that he is genuinely a nice guy, and not in the way some guys pretend to be while having less-than-savory ulterior motives. No, Daniel is genuinely a good person and he never pushes anything, never makes me feel uncomfortable, or forces his attention on me when he sees it isn’t reciprocated.

Because of that, I don’t mind being around him because, beyond that unreciprocated crush, we are actual friends. He’s one of the few guys whose company it’s actually refreshing to be in.

But, sweet as he is, he still struggles to read social cues here and there, and it makes for some awkward encounters. Like now.

After a beat or two of this, Rachel clears her throat unceremoniously.

“I know I’ve lost weight recently, but surely I’ve not shrunk that much that you don’t see me, Dan,” she says sarcastically, moving to the side and patting her stomach and back. “I’m right over here.”

Daniel’s blush deepens in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry Rachel. How’re you today?”

“Oh, save it, pretty boy,” she replies with another eye roll.

Daniel smiles sheepishly as the three of us make our way into the lecture hall, conversation beginning to resume after Rachel’s ice-breaking joke. We slide into our usual spot near the back, close enough for a quick escape if need be.

For a bit, I get to throw myself into the coursework and forget about Noah and anything else bugging me. Rachel is into business because it can be a lucrative field to work in, and Daniel is here simply continuing family tradition.

But I genuinely find the inner workings of business analysis fascinating and challenging. That, however, doesn’t mean that I don’t also find it a drag sometimes.

By the time class is over, Rachel yawns and stretches her arms out behind her, eager to leave. Being at the end of the row, I get my stuff to lead the way out when my phone buzzes with a new text and I know even without checking that it’s from Noah.

Noah: Hey J. I’ll meet you outside.

He’s signed it off with a kissing face emoji and I raise an eyebrow. Someone seems to be in a better mood.

I wait until Rachel and Daniel are ready before I walk with them, not bothering to mention anything about the text as Rachel tries to bribe Daniel into helping her with the assignment. As we exit the building, we see Noah waiting for me near the student center.

When I turn to give my friends a quick goodbye, Rachel throws me a knowing look that she punctuates with a wink, while Daniel just has a confused expression on his face. She pulls him away and I see her talking to him, with his head whipping back to look at me and Noah before she drags him around the corner.

“Who was that?” Noah asks, jutting his chin in the direction of Daniel’s retreating figure. I saw him staring at him since he noticed me walking with them. Though he doesn’t sound angry or look pissed, I can tell from his body language that he’s less than enthused.

Jealous, maybe?

I offer him a smile. “Daniel? He’s just a friend.”

Noah grunts but doesn’t say or do anything else, accepting my explanation or at least pretending to. Seeing him again restarts all the messy emotions I’ve been grappling with since the last time I spoke with him.

I try to remember the talk I had with Rachel and tilt my head to the side. “Noah, are you okay? You seemed a little more tense than usual earlier.”

He looks at me with apologetic eyes, then sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just baseball.”

I nod my head, vindicated in my earlier guesswork. I fold my arms, wanting to listen. He looks at me, then something in his eyes falls a little.

“I’m so sorry that I snapped at you. Baseball’s a reason, but not an excuse. You didn’t deserve that, especially when you came to see me practice.” He takes my hands in his. “We have our first game tonight so things are just really stressful right now.”

“Of course,” I say, squeezing his hands. “I was a little put off earlier, I won’t lie to you. And I might not get all the details of the world you’re a part of, but I do understand pressure.”

“So, we’re good?” he asks, aiming puppy dog eyes at me that melts any residual frost I had after our last encounter.

“We’re good,” I answer and he grins. “Is there anything at all I can do to help you?”

He pauses to think for a second, then tugs me closer to him. I let him pull me, my heart beginning to pound. “Hmm. Well, to be honest, knowing that you’ll be at the game would make my night. Are you coming?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

His confident grin turns softer for just a moment before he draws me in even closer for a kiss. It’s another one of those kisses of his–one that takes me out of whatever is happening in the background and stretches a single moment into forever. His hands go to my waist and I press against him, my hands resting on his chest so I can feel his own rapid heartbeat against my palms.

It takes a random, faceless whistle from someone passing by to force us to break away from each other, and when we do, my face is hot. But Noah looks like his usual calm and collected self, something that only causes my blush to deepen.

This isn’t like me at all.

Everything is happening so quickly, and I’ve never been the PDA type at all. But there’s something so disarming about Noah, something enthralling that pulls me in and makes me drop my defenses and common sense before I have time to regret it.

It’s an intoxicating feeling, wanting him and being wanted by him and doing things because of that desire that I would never usually do.

“I have to get to class,” he tells me, placing one final kiss on my lips. Disappointment washes over me, but I shove the feeling as far back as I can.

“Me too,” I say reluctantly, and he chuckles.

“I’ll be watching for you tonight.” He gives me a tight hug and one final goodbye before he hurries to make the lecture.

I’m on cloud nine, excited and nervous all at once for the game tonight, as though I too have a victory on the line.