Page 32 of Fake Dates and Home Plates (Way Off Base #1)

Chapter Thirty

Theo

The stands are packed for our match against Shoreline.

Because they are our biggest rival, students always show up big for a match against them. Tonight, though, there are no empty seats. A mix of blue and yellow clashes with a wave of purple and orange. Energy is vibrating through the air.

It’s the kind of game scouts travel in for, the one that gets broadcast beyond our little town bubble.

The initial pre-game ceremonies go off without a hitch, giving the impression it’s a normal baseball game.

Henley’s in the same seat I’ve reserved for the season, Sunny right beside her. Her cross country teammates are spread throughout the student section, ready for the signal.

Unfortunately for me, Dakota is the first at bat.

I crouch on my base, glove hovering but steady, my eyes locked on him. Right now, I need to focus. He’s a decent hitter, and I can’t play dirty. It’d ruin everything Henley has worked so hard for.

It’s taking everything for my teammates to hold back their desire to beat the shit out of him. I’m just hoping Bash can keep a clear head.

Lukas, crouched behind Dakota, sends him a signal. Bash shakes his head but nods to the second signal.

Strike.

We take a collective breath as Bash winds up again, exhaling when it sails through the air.

Dakota gets a hit off Bash’s curveball, running straight for me. He’s too late, though; his hit wasn’t strong, and it’s passed to me before he can touch the base.

I can’t hold back the cocky smirk when the umpire shouts, “Out!”

Dakota cusses but heads back to his dugout.

The game flies by in a blur of pitches, runs, and outs. The fans are cheering as anticipation grows.

Until the top of the third. As planned, as we’re running out to take our field positions, a voice comes over the speakers that definitely doesn’t sound like the announcer.

Finn’s voice booms over the stadium speakers.

“This is Finn Carter from Hudson’s Most Heinous.

You’re probably wondering why I’ve locked the announcers out of this booth and taken over their microphones.

” He chuckles at himself. “Well, I love to play with balls just as much as the guys on the field, but I have to interrupt tonight’s game for a very special announcement. ”

All at once, Henley’s teammates stand, holding up their posters. At first, it might seem like there’s some sort of school spirit performance happening. However, their signs feature giant displays of screenshots they’ve gathered: the trolling on social media, disturbing texts, even some threats.

“If you could direct your attention to the big screen, you’ll find a small presentation,” Finn says over the speakers.

Gasps ring out as pictures and proof are displayed, one after another. Then, the video Sunny recorded.

Phones go off around the stadium as a mass message is sent to all students from both schools, containing more and more evidence. We got some computer science kids to do some light hacking, and they managed to find many more incriminating photos in emails.

“The Delta Alpha fraternity started a disgusting competition as part of their initiation process,” Finn explains. However, his voice is rushed now, probably trying to get through the plan before someone breaks into the announcement box to stop him.

He continues, “A point system dedicated to their sexual conquests. And folks, these absolutely vile men didn’t care much for consent.”

The crowd shifts, confusion rippling into outrage. Murmurs turn into shouts.

“Delta Alpha has hidden behind money, behind athletics, behind silence. No more.” Finn’s voice fades away.

A blur of purple and orange collide on the field. I only hope our team can hold out on our agreement. No matter how much we want to, we can’t wing first.

Dakota and his buddy Kal are both headed right for me.

My eyes find Henley’s in the crowd, and I watch as her jaw clenches in anger.

Turning my head, I’m now chest-to-chest with Dakota, his face pale under the stadium lights. His hands curl into fists, his jaw tight. He looks at the signs in the crowd then back at me. Kal hovers behind him, pretending to be a threat.

Smiling insincerely, I ask Dakota, “Did you like our presentation?”

“This is bullshit, Barlowe. You think you’ll get away with this?” he snarls, spit flying from his mouth in anger.

I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. As long as you don’t go another day without consequences from your fucked up actions, I’m happy.

” Coaches and officials are storming the field, trying to break up brawls, but I ignore them.

“Good luck graduating, let alone making the draft.” I’m riling him up on purpose, and it works.

He pulls back and swings, landing a hit to the side of my face that has my vision blurring. I fall to the ground, catching myself with one hand.

Fuck, it hurts. Letting him get the first hit in was part of the plan, though.

As I stand, ready to throw my own hit, a blur of pink runs in front of me.

Henley.

Grabbing Dakota by the back of his head, she yanks his face to meet her knee.

He falls to the ground with a garbled groan.

Kal reaches for her, but she’s faster. Her foot meets his dick, and I almost puke at the crunching sound it makes. She’s like a superhero, swooping in to take out the trash.

My vision is a little blurry in one eye, but I can hear her kick the two assholes on the ground, cussing them out as she does.

An arm wraps around her waist, and she goes crazy, kicking her limbs out. I’m just about to lay whoever grabbed her out when she goes still.

“Sorry, Chase.”

“No problem, Harkin,” he says on a grunt, I think he may have taken a couple hits trying to contain her.

Good. He shouldn’t have fucking touched her to begin with.

I stare at him, still debating hitting him in the face for touching my girl, when she walks up to me and gently touches the swollen part of my face.

“Why did you let him hit you?” she asks, concern in her voice.

“If they threw the first hit, they’d forfeit the match,” I tell her with a grin, and Chase chuckles.

Henley does not find it funny. Crossing her arms, she huffs, “That was not part of the plan.”

It was. It just wasn’t part of her plan. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I lead her away from the two idiots crying on the ground in front of us.

Chase doesn’t offer them a hand, returning to his team’s dugout instead.

“Let’s get you some ice,” Henley says as I pull her into my side.

“Can you pretend to be a sexy nurse while you do?” I ask her with a smile, the movement making me wince.

She sighs. “Save the fantasies for later, Baseball Boy.”

She tries to hide the small smile on her face that tells me she wouldn’t mind playing along to that particular scenario.