Red Flags (29 page)

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.

<>

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 much 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.