Day One Page 4

  Drew: So, I was thinking … I’m about to go for a run. I have a key to access the track at the high school. It’s about eight feet apart if you stay on the inside and I stay on the outside, so we should be fine. How about you join me?

  A sharp laugh escapes my lips.

  Me: What is this “run” word you say? I’ve never heard of such a term. Let me go look it up in the dictionary. Hold, please.

  Me: Ha! Just looked up the definition. Yeah, that’s something I definitely don’t do.

  Drew: Ha-ha-ha. Come on. Join me. I’ll make it worth your while. ;-)

  Me: Winky face? Worth my while? I’m listening.

  Drew: The sun is out today, so there’s a chance I’ll get hot and have to take off my shirt.

  Me: Go on.

  Drew: I’ve been told I have quite the abs. What do people say, washboard?

  Me: I’m envisioning it … I’m off the couch, but I’ll need more to actually get out of my PJs.

  Drew: What if I dropped down and did push-ups every time you wanted to stop running?

  Me: I’m starting to change …

  Drew: I was going to wear basketball shorts, but I do own a pair of gray sweatpants that I hear many girls swoon over.

  Me: I’m running out the door!

  Drew: <3

  Me: Fine. Where should I meet you?

  Drew: Pull into the back parking lot. You’ll see my car parked near the gate. I’ll have it open and ready for you to enter. Then, just walk to the track.

  Me: Could we get in trouble for this? The last thing I need is for my name to appear in a headline about a teacher who was caught trespassing on school grounds with a very hot major league baseball player because she’d passed out due to exhaustion and he had to call an ambulance. Because that ambulance thing could totally happen. Don’t be surprised. You’ve been warned!

  Drew: I was given a key by Coach Thompson. I promise we won’t get in trouble.

  Me: Give me ten.

  Drew: That really means, like, fifteen to twenty, right?

  Me: Good boy. This thing we have going on is really on the right track.

  Drew: ;-)

  I throw my phone on my couch and head to my room to start getting ready for what I’m sure will be an absolute butt-kicking.

  When I arrive at the high school, I see the gate slightly open with his car parked right next to it. I park and make my way through the entrance and to the bleachers, heading to the track.

  He doesn’t notice I’m here yet, so I take this opportunity to really check him out for the first time. He did in fact wear his gray sweatpants along with a sleeveless shirt. The way his pants hug him in all the right places makes my chest tighten.

  He’s wearing the same ball cap he wore in the first picture he sent me. I don’t know why, but that makes me smile. I’ve always envisioned a down-home country boy with his favorite cap as one of my dream guys, and yet here’s this professional baseball player standing in front of me. He’s not country. He’s not down-home. But yet that cap … it’s perfect.

  I open the gate more, and it catches his attention.

  He jogs toward me and then stops and grins from ear to ear. “Hi.” He waves, and it’s the cutest, most awkward thing ever.

  “You know, I’m sure it’s okay if we stand next to each other. I’m not that worried about it,” I say as I take a step closer.

  We’re still ten feet apart at least.

  His expression falls. “I really wish that were the case, but with my mom”—he takes a deep breath—“I just can’t risk anything.”

  My heart swoons at his concern over his mother. I smile big. “Then, at least six feet apart we shall stay.”

  He nods and pulls up his right leg behind him, stretching his quads. When I don’t follow his lead, he eyes me. “It’s good to stretch and warm up your legs before we jump in.”

  I sigh and do as he does. “You’re lucky you even got me out here. Don’t push your luck, golden boy.”

  His smirk is priceless at my choice of nickname for him that I read online.

  He runs me through some stretches and warms us up before he says, “Okay, you ready?”

  I close my eyes and shake my head. “Why am I doing this?”

  “Because you like me?”

  My lids fly open, and I’m graced with the most handsome face I’ve ever seen grinning back at me.

  “Maybe.” I point my finger at him. “We’ll see how I feel after this attack on my lungs.”

  He tilts his head to the side, showing which way he wants to run, and I begrudgingly move my feet.

  Thankfully, he starts off slow, and I find a rhythm.

  “So, what kind of music do you normally listen to?” he asks like we’re sitting on the couch in my living room and not running around a track.

  I give him the evil eye. “I. Can’t. Really. Talk. Right. Now,” I say a word at a time through each breath.

  He laughs, and to my surprise, he slows down. “Then, let’s not run so fast. In order to keep a good pace that you can sustain for a long time, you should be able to hold a conversation during your run.”

  We proceed, and I thankfully find it more doable, so I finally answer him, “I like everything.”

  He turns to me in question.

  “Music, I mean. I loved that concert each artist did from their homes the other day on TV. When it went from Billie Joe to Tim McGraw, I was in heaven.”

  “Were you screaming like a little girl when the Backstreet Boys came on?” he teases.

  I laugh—well, as much as I can while barely being able to breathe. “Um, no. Thankfully, my sister was never into them, and they were before my time, so I never had the boy-band crushes.”

  “Who are your crushes then?”

  “What?” I dramatically pull back my head while facing him. “Besides the Major League Baseball player I just met? Hmm.” I pretend I’m thinking.

  His laugh tickles my ears, and I almost trip over myself.

  He jogs a little faster and then turns around, so he’s running backward, and we’re facing each other. “Did you really not know who I was?”

  “And there it is. I knew you had to have a big head tucked under that sexy ball cap.”

  He chuckles, and I have to stop, needing the rest. He does, too, and instantly drops to the ground, doing push-ups.

  I giggle under my breath. “You were serious about that?”

  He continues his ups and downs without looking up. “Dead serious. It will be a good workout for me in the end, kind of a cross-training thing. I do have to be fit for my job, you know,” he says through a laugh.

  I cross my arms in front of my body and take in the way his muscles bulge as he moves with ease. “Then, you’ll do those until I’m ready to run again?”

  “Yep,” he says, but I can hear in his voice that he’s starting to strain.

  “Hmm,” I tease. “So … what do you think about the weather? Do you think it will stay nice like this or start to rain again?”

  He pops up to his feet so fast that I’m caught off guard. “Nice try. Let’s go.”

  He runs again, and I follow, pretending to hate it but, deep down, this is the best time I’ve ever had exercising. Who knows? This might become my favorite pastime.

  Okay, not really. I haven’t lost my marbles that much yet.

  “Hey, I think I was supposed to get the view of you shirtless too,” I call after him.

  He takes his shirt off and throws it my way.

  Okay, yeah, I was wrong. This is definitely becoming my favorite pastime.

  7

  Day 7

  April 2

  After I hop out of the shower, I dry myself off and hear my phone ring. The sound of “Centerfield” by John Fogerty plays with the familiar clapping and then a guitar riff that I dance to for a beat before I answer by singing, “ ‘Put me in, Coach. I’m ready to play today.’ ”

  Drew laughs out loud. “You did not.”

  “Oh, I sure did
. So, if it takes me a while to answer your call, just know that I’m over here, dancing to your ringtone.”

  “You crack me up,” he says.

  “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all day because, well, you know, nowhere else to go and all.”

  “That’s why I’m calling. I had an idea.”

  “I’m all ears!”

  “Let’s go for a drive to the lake,” he says, his tone full of hopefulness.

  “Um … I thought you wanted to keep your distance because of your mom?”

  “Yes, that’s why you’ll stay in your car, and I’ll be in mine while we FaceTime the entire way.”

  “You’re too cute.”

  “Do you have enough gas?”

  “Even better. I drive a Nissan LEAF, so no need for gas here.”

  “Great. Then, I’ll be there shortly.”

  He calls when he pulls up twenty minutes later. “Are you ready?”

  I step out into my garage where the large door is already up, smiling when he comes into view, standing by his car.

  “Let’s do this,” I say into the phone.

  Seeing his smile is exactly what I imagine every time we speak on the phone.

  He nods. “Okay, follow me.”

  I hang up and get in my car, backing out of my driveway and positioning myself behind him. We get on the road, and before we get to the end of my block, my phone rings with a FaceTime call.

  I answer with a smile, “Wow, what a surprise! Long time no see.”

  He chuckles, slightly shaking his head at my antics. “Is there a place to rest your phone, so we can still see each other but you’re not distracted while driving?”

  I place it in my cupholder, which makes the phone face low and up for him to see me. “Well, not the most flattering view,” I tease.

  “Any view is flattering when it comes to you,” he says.

  It’s a totally adorable statement, but I can’t let him get away with it completely. It’s in my nature to play with him a little. “Aw, aren’t you flattering with your pick-up lines.”

  “I have plenty, so just you wait.” He grins while keeping his eyes on the road.

  We get on the freeway that surprisingly still has a decent amount of people on it.

  Aren’t we supposed to be on lockdown? Ha! Asks the girl who’s literally driving right next to these people. But we’re doing it safely, in different cars, and I don’t even feel bad about it since I drive an electric.

  I nod my head, agreeing with myself.

  “What should we listen to?” Drew asks.

  Knowing that he’s right in front of me yet also right next to me on the phone makes me laugh. Technology these days …

  “Why don’t we turn on the rock station?” I suggest. “The stations that play the popular music nowadays cycle through, like, ten songs over and over again, and it’s super annoying.”

  “Yes! Why is that?”

  “Who knows? But I can barely stand some of it, so after the second time, I want to throw my radio out the window.”

  “Rock it is!”

  We both click the radio on and listen to see what’s playing. “Cut the Cord” by Shinedown begins, and I reach over to turn it up. I bob my head to the beat and start to sing under my breath to the words as we make our way down the freeway.

  I laugh out loud when I hear Drew shout, “ ‘Cut the cord!’ ”

  So, I join in, “ ‘Freedom, la-la-la-la. Freedom.’ ”

  “Nice.” He stares into the screen for a brief second.

  As the song ends, he turns down his radio and speaks up, “Okay, game time. What’s one song that you can sing from start to finish?”

  My eyes widen as all of the best choices race through my head. Should it be a rock song? Or how about a country one? No, I’m going old-school rap on this one. He wants a game? Oh, he’s going to get a game.

  “What do you know about Andre Nickatina?”

  “Oh no, you didn’t!” He covers his mouth in a holy shit kind of way.

  “I’m a Bay Area girl, remember? ‘Smoke Dope and Rap’ all the way. Bring it, baby.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. I just so happen to have that on my playlist, which is loaded into my stereo system.”

  I sigh dreamily. “We really are a match made in heaven.”

  He winks at the phone, and I’m so glad I caught the action.

  The familiar sound of a phone ringing starts, and I sit up straight when I shout, “ ‘Hey, Pook, get the phone!’ ” which is how the song starts off. “ ‘Who dis, man?’ ” I say in my manliest tone. “ ‘Ready, go, man!’ ” I shout out as the beat drops.

  I flow with the lyrics, bouncing around with each phrase, like I’m a rapper onstage at a big show.

  I don’t miss a beat while I bust it out, but when I get to my favorite part of the song, I look right into the phone and sing, “ ‘Oh, it’s Jeannine. She lick my dick clean.’ ”

  Drew cracks up, and his laughter screws up my flow as I break out in giggles.

  “You messed me up!”

  “I know, but come on, how could I not?” he says through his chuckles.

  We play his game a few more times, but none are as funny as mine. When we pull up to the lake, I realize how long we were on the road but how fast the time went by.

  We park and walk, separated, to the lake.

  “Isn’t this technically against our shelter-in-place order?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “I read that some head guy who works for the county brought his family out to the beach a few days ago. They were dumb enough to post pics to social media. We won’t do that.” He grins.

  “That didn’t really answer my question.”

  “Yeah, but if we don’t get caught …” He raises his eyebrows. “Besides, there’s no one here, so we’re fine.”

  “There’s no one here because they’re all following the rules and staying home,” I joke.

  “But not everyone is trying to win the heart of a new girl, so desperate times call for desperate measures.”

  I grin in his direction. “Okay then, you’re off the hook.”

  When we get close to the water, he places the bag that he took out of his car on the ground and takes out two towels. He lays one down and then steps a few feet—okay, a lot of feet—away and lays another one down. I try not to laugh at how silly this is, but I guess it’s our new normal, and knowing his mom has a compromised immune system, it’s well worth it.

  I watch as he sets a bag on what I’m thinking is my towel and then takes his bag over to his spot.

  “What’s in the bag?” I ask.

  “I brought us lunch.”

  He sits on his towel, so I make my way to mine.

  “What’s on the menu, sir?” I ask, acting dignified with an accent.

  “PB and J.” His expression makes me giggle as he holds up the sandwich in a ziplock baggie. “And”—he sticks his finger in the air before he takes out one item at a time—“a fruit cup, chips, and”—he pauses for dramatic effect before he pulls the last item out—“a White Claw, just for you.”

  “My dream lunch!” I celebrate overdramatically, but I’m being honest. This is just my type of food, especially with the White Claw to top it off.

  We sit on our own towels while we talk and eat our lunch. Every second that passes by, I feel more comfortable with him. He tells me about his time in the minor leagues—holy hell, I had no idea how crazy that could be—and then I tell him about why I went into teaching.

  Afterward, we go to the water, and he teaches me how to skip rocks. We take off our shoes and stick our feet in the lake. With the sun on our backs, the cool water actually feels good.

  We spend all day like that, together yet apart.

  When I realize it’s Thursday, I have to pause and reflect. Talk about finding the bright side to a really shitty situation. On any other day, I would be walking out of my classroom, heading home and trying to figure out what to do for dinner, all while being alo
ne.

  Now, here I am with a guy I’m really starting to fall for, lying next to a lake and feeling happier than ever. Funny how the world works.

  Would Drew have even opened up his Tinder app if it weren’t for this quarantine? Probably not. He’d be playing baseball, traveling to who knows where.

  It’s hard to be thankful for such a horrible situation, but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t at least think that. I guess everything happens for a reason, and for me, this was the universe’s way of introducing me to Drew.

  I tilt my head and say a silent thank-you to whoever is listening before turning my attention back to the gorgeous man sitting eight feet away.

  8

  Day 8

  April 3

  My new favorite song blares through my phone, and I clap myself on the back for changing Drew’s ringtone.

  “Well, good morning,” I sing into the phone.

  “Good morning, sunshine. What are you up to?” he asks, sounding so upbeat that I can’t help but smile bigger.

  “You’ll never guess what I just did.”

  “What?” he says like a kid who’s dying to know a really big secret.

  “I went for a run. All by myself!” I say so proudly that I could burst.

  He laughs under his breath. “You did not,” he says in disbelief.

  “I totally did.”

  “I have to admit, I’m proud of you. Good job.”

  “I had to! I was watching that show WAGS last night, and it got me thinking. If this really goes somewhere between us and I’m going to date a Major League Baseball player, I have to step up my game to be able to fight off any girls who think they can take my spot.”

  There it is. That deep belly laugh I love on him so much.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

  “Have you seen that show?” I ask, dramatically. “Bitches be crazy when it comes to their men. Are you forgetting I’m just a little ole elementary teacher over here?”

  “Sharee, you’re more than any one of those girls or the other girls I’ve ever met.”

  I normally come back with something snarky or playful, but in this moment, I’m speechless. Hearing him say that melts my heart.