Page 14 of Sunday Morning

As I sat on the bleachers with Heather and Joanna, Violet and Isaac made their way toward me.

“We’re late,” Violet said, sliding on her sunglasses. “I thought I was going to get Wesley to come, but no such luck.”

She hugged me before taking a seat behind us. “Oh, Isaac, there’s bird poop.” She pointed to the bench next to her.

“We’ll scoot down,” Heather offered while she and Joanna made me scooch to the left.

Isaac adjusted his cowboy hat and sat next to me. “Sunday Morning,” he murmured.

“It’s Sarah.”

“I know,” he smirked, gazing out at the baseball field.

His jean-clad leg pressed to mine, and I tried to scoot a little closer to Heather, but there wasn’t wiggle room.

“Do you like baseball?” he asked.

Heather snorted, and I elbowed her.

“Duh, what do you think? I’m here, aren't I?”

“That’s not an answer.” He chuckled, and it felt like a condescending response. “I don’t really care for it. I prefer football. Track. Basketball. Not baseball. It’s pretty boring.”

I glanced back at Violet to see if she was hearing him, but she was focused on Matt making it to home plate with the next batter.

“Then why are you here?” I asked.

“Same reason you are: to support Matty.”

“Oh my gosh, you call him Matty?” Heather asked, leaning forward to see Isaac.

“Isaac has a problem with real names,” I said.

“That’s not true. I only have special names for special people,” he said, playfully nudging my leg, which made Heather pinch my arm.

When I looked in her direction, she and Joanna were gawking at me and Isaac. I shot them a wide-eyed SOS signal before facing forward.

“Well, I’m calling you Isaac,” I said.

“Because I’m not that special?”

“You’resomething,” I murmured before lowering my voice to ensure Violet didn’t hear me. “But special, is not it.”

Isaac adjusted his body in a way that made his legandarm press to mine.

“I’m going to the concession stand,” I announced, quickly standing. “You coming?” I asked my friends.

“No, we’d better stay and save seats,” Joanna said as Heather filled my space to sit close to Isaac.

She grinned at me.

“Since you’re going,” Isaac dug into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, “mind getting me a Mountain Dew, Sweetarts, and popcorn?”

I stared at his money and then at him.

He smiled. It was a little lopsided, and it brought out a tiny dimple on his right cheek. “Thanks. You’re the best.” Sometimes he had a slight Southern accent, like he brought it out when he needed to sound convincing.

Heather and Joanna covered their mouths and snorted.