Everyone in the story is over 18, and the story is purely fiction. This is my first story. If readers like it and vote it high enough, I will finish the series. Comments are encouraged!
*
Bobby danced off second base, making the pitcher think twice before throwing home. God how he loved baseball.
All of a sudden, the lefthander spun quickly and fired the ball back to second but Bobby easily beat the throw, diving back to the bag head first.
"Safe!" the umpire yelled.
Bobby called time and dusted himself off. The crowd was really getting into it now, filling the old ballpark with an electricity it hadn't seen in quite some time. It was well deserved though. The Titans fought back to tie the game in the bottom of the ninth and now had the winning run on base in the 11th with just one out.
Bobby looked out over the crowd. He spotted his mom, Abby. She was beaming just behind home plate, her golden blonde hair pulled back in a tight pony tail. She caught Bobby's glance and smiled.
Bobby shuffled off second again, got a safe lead and dug in.
The Cardinals burly reliever gave him a glance and then fired toward the plate.
"Strike three!"
Two outs now. Bobby cursed quietly as he jogged back to second.
Behind the first base dugout, he saw his dad rock back and forth nervously. His stepmom, Heather, sat next to his dad, chatting idly with those around her. She wore a bright red halter top that made her stand out against the sea of navy and orange.
"Fucking idiot," Bobby muttered. She actually showed up wearing the other team's colors.
Bobby skipped off second, happy as his thoughts crossed back onto the baseball diamond. Jimmy looked ready at the plate. And as the pitcher delivered, Bobby took off for third.
"Crack!"
Bobby heard the ball rocket off of Jimmy's bat and into left field. His third base coach was waving him home wildly. He barreled toward the plate. The catcher moved up the line, blocking it as the throw skipped into his mitt.
Bobby braced himself and unloaded on the catcher, bowling him over as the ball pop out and dribbled up the first base line.
"Safe!" the umpire yelled, throwing his arms out emphatically as Bobby jumped up and was mobbed by his teammates.
******
"Bobby! Bobby! Come down here a minute, son."
Bobby heard his dad yelling from downstairs. He splashed some cologne on his face and grabbed his coat before heading down the steps.
"Hey Dad, what's up?" he asked, rounding the corner into the kitchen. His dad stood by the fridge, beer in hand and a suit jacket slung over his arm. His stepmom Heather lurked at the kitchen table, casually flipping through a gossip magazine.
"Work called," his dad said. "Jack's sick and they need me to close this deal in Chicago. I'm going to be gone a few days. Should be back by the time you guys head to the state playoffs though."
"OK Dad, sounds good. Bring me back a souvenir," Bobby said, laughing.
"Yeah, I wish. I'll count myself lucky if I get any time to myself -- much less time to go sightseeing."
"All right, well good luck with the deal, Dad," Bobby said and he started for the door.
"Wait, where are you going?" his dad asked.
"Out. I told Jimmy I'd meet up with everybody over at his house to celebrate."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
Bobby saw his dad exchange a look with Heather, and he felt anger boil up inside him. He promised his girlfriend Kady he'd come out tonight. He wouldn't less this happen -- not again. The way she had looked at him after the game caused his dick to surge in his baseball pants. He knew for sure he was getting laid tonight.
"Dad, I promised everyone I would --" Bobby actually made it to the door before his dad spoke up again.
"Bobby, damnit! I said you're staying here tonight." His tone was unmistakable.
Heather glanced up from her magazine and caught Bobby's eyes. The look she gave him only pissed him off more.
"SON OF A BITCH!" Bobby yelled. "This fucking blows."
His dad turned to yell at him, but Bobby was having none of it. He stormed upstairs and slammed his doors, rattling two pictures hanging in the hallway outside his room.
******
It was noon by the time Bobby woke up the next day. Heather was knocking on his door.
"What?" he groaned.
She opened his door and walked in.
"Your phone," she said, laying it on his desk as Bobby looked up.
Heather had clearly been sunbathing. She was wearing a white cover-up, but Bobby could still see her purple bikini. Her big breasts formed wet spots in the sheer fabric where they jutted out from her thin frame. She wore her dark brown hair up, and her skin glistened from a combination of sweat and tanning oil. She smelled like coconut oil and margaritas.
Bobby got out of bed and picked up his phone. He had eight missed calls, three voicemails and a half dozen texts. The last two or three texts caught his eye. They were from Kady.
"I can't stand it anymore," one read. "You're never fucking here! I can't take it. I can't. You promised me this time and you still didn't show up."
An ache grew in the pit of Bobby's stomach as his eyes quickly scanned down the rest of the message.