Practice came quicker than Bee wanted it to come. Usually, she loved going to practice after school. She looked forward to it. But now, she was dreading it, knowing she would have to see Oakland and his cronies.

She didn't even try today; she wore her black sports bra and her black shorts. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and looked at herself in the mirror. She was not going to let Oakland get under her skin. She was not going to let the other Park School boys chase her away.

When she entered the gym, there was no stopping and staring. She set her bag against the wall and started to stretch her arms, then her legs, then her torso. Then, with purpose, she strode over to Coach.

"Hey, I wanted to remind you, the band concert is happening in 2 weeks, and I have to leave practice a little early. For rehearsal and stuff."

Coach put a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Bee. I've been thinking. You're pretty busy, aren't you?"

She didn't like where this was going. Not one bit. "Uh, I guess."

"Well, Oakland was telling me all about your tutoring, and the volunteer stuff, and I've always known about band, but well, I just think there's a lot on your plate right now."

She stepped away from him, her chest feeling tight. She was losing her cool, and she knew it, and she felt panicky. "Coach... what's going on?" Was he telling her 2nd base wasn't hers before tryouts were over? Was he going to say she wasn't captain?

"Well, I was talking with the softball coach-"

"No. No. This is my team, Coach. It's been my team for years now! What are you trying to say?" Her throat was tightening now, and she felt the tears in her eyes. She hated that she was having this reaction in front of everyone, especially Oakland. "How did I disappoint you? I thought... my throws have been perfect, my hitting has been perfect, yesterday's pop flies were perfect. What did I do wrong?"

"You've done nothing wrong, Bee. But, we have a lot of kids here, trying out this year..."

She was having a full blown panic attack. Her heart was beating fast, her chest hurt, she felt dizzy. If she hadn't had one before, she would have thought it was a heart attack. "What do I need to quit? Band? I'll quit it. I'll quit it all, but please. You can't kick me from the team!"
Her coach's mouth twisted. "I don't want you to quit those. Harvard looks at that stuff."

"But I'm trying to play ball at Harvard!" Her voice was too loud, too shrill. "I've never, not once, let you down. But these new kids? You don't know them! You know me!"

She felt hands on her shoulders, and for a moment, she relaxed into them. Larkin would help her. He would stand up for her. She let herself deflate into him, tucking her head under his chin, letting him comfort her. Larkin will fix this.

Only, it wasn't Larkin's voice that spoke. "Will Harvard let a girl play on their team?"

She tried to yank from Oakland's grip, but he tightened his hold on her. "Now now, Beatrice. Relax. What I'm saying is, you won't have a chance if you don't play baseball your senior year, right coach?"
She yanked out of Oakland's grip, shoving him back. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She was yelling, now. "You want me to get kicked off. You told coach all about my tutoring." She spun on her coach. "Don't make this mistake. I'm the best batter on the team. My stats prove that I'm reliant and consistent; I always make it to homebase. I always make perfect plays. I'm quick and fast and my reflexes are better than most on the team, so don't do this. Please."

Suddenly, Larkin was there, and so was Stephen and Benji and John. "What the fuck, coach?" That was Larkin, who had his arm wrapped around Bee. "Are you kicking her off before tryouts end? Are you fucking serious?"

Coach opened his mouth, but Benji beat him. "She's the best on this team. Fuck Park School. She's brought us to states year after year, and you know that. She's the best batter in the state. Are you fucking crazy?"

Then John was speaking. "You kick her off the team, we all leave, and you can have your perfect team of Park School boys. And I don't mean the four of us, I mean everyone. All of your valuable players. We all walk if she's kicked off because you're being sexist right now."

Then it was Stephen. "Yeah. I'm involved in Model UN, and chamber choir, and the lit magazine, and I have that after school job. Yeah, not as involved as Bee, but you've never said shit to me about any of my other activities. I play other sports, and you've never held that over my head. Bee is involved, but she plays ball year round, and she's dedicated. So you kicking her off because she's busy is a sexist reason when you don't give anyone else shit about it."

Larkin tightened his hold on Bee, then looked at Oakland. "And you, feeding this shit to coach, isn't helping. Knock if off. You're pulling this crap because you're intimidated by Bee. She's better than you, get over it."

Coach had always been on her side before. Always. She had never dealt with this from her coach, the man she trusted, and suddenly she felt like she was going to be sick.

Coach dismissed them with a wave of his hand, looking suddenly furious. "I make the final call. Go pair up and warm up before I cancel practice."

Softball coach. Bee wanted to know why coach would be talking with the softball coach, and why he would even consider kicking her off. What had happened between yesterday and today?

Fauna happened. She had cornered Bee and told her to forget about baseball. To join the softball team. Had she known this was going to happen?

Those thoughts plagued Bee as she partnered with Larkin, tossing to him, but clearly not feeling it. How could she when he coach was telling her she would be kicked off? Larkin could tell something was wrong too, especially when she missed his throw, letting it hit the wall behind her.

She furiously swiped at her tears and she spun to get the ball. You will not cry here. You will not.

When she bent down to get the baseball, another hand snatched it before she could. She stood, turning on Oakland, glaring at him. Her mouth twisted into a scowl, and she reached for her ball. "Give it to me, Oakland."

He held it above her head. "We're partners now." He looked at Larkin. "You're partners with Gueller now!"

Larkin looked ready to fight it, but Oakland turned back towards Bee with anger in his face. He leaned close to her, glaring at her. "You need to snap out of this right now. You missing that ball shows just how weak you are."

She shoved him back. "Leave me alone, Oakland."

"No, I won't fucking leave you alone, you pathetic waste of space. You've been crowing about how this is your team, now show me just how hard you work for this team."

She went to shove him again, but she stepped out of her way, and before she could try again, he whipped the ball at her. Her reflexes acted and she caught it with ease, but she was angry. Angry at her coach and at Oakland. She threw it back just as hard, but he was ready for her.

"That was weak and it was messy. If you truly want to be here you need to tighten up."

When she caught his throw, she threw it back harder. "Don't talk shit to me! I have perfect form."

His return throw hurt her hand. "No, you don't. Your arm is too low, and your body isn't spread out enough. Now stop fooling around and show me that you belong here."

She hated that he was criticizing her, right after coach told her that she was too busy for the team. But, she found herself listening, tightening her body, raising her arm higher, spreading out her feet as she threw it back, hoping it hurt his hand too.

There were no cocky smirks this time. Oakland looked pissed, but he wasn't gloating. No, he was leading her, as if he was already the captain, and that made her angrier. It should have been her, telling others how to better their form.

By the time they were across the gym from each other, she was burning with anger. She threw it to him, angry and hard and spot on, and he threw it back in the same manner. He looked pissed too, like coach had insulted him. As if coach had been kicking him off the team.

By the time coach blew the whistle for warm ups to be over, Bee was throwing her mitt on the ground in anger. Softball. Softball couldn't handle me. It was true, but she also knew that she couldn't handle softball. She didn't know how to catch a ball as big as a softball. She didn't know if she could throw a softball with the same accuracy, since it was bigger and heavier. She didn't know how hitting a softball would be, since she was so used to the size of a baseball.

"Alright! We're doing grounders in here. Field is too wet to do it out there. So line up. Oak, you're first."

She picked up her mitt and dragged herself to the end of the line, wanting to go hide in the locker room. She wanted the day to be over, so desperately.

She watched Oakland with intensity as he got low on his haunches, glove in hand, looking right at coach. He has such strong legs, Bee thought to herself, then she shook the thought away, angry at herself. But, it was true. As soon as coach hit the grounder, he was up and moving, so swiftly it looked like he was made for baseball. He scooped up the ball and tossed it back with such ease, her chest hurt.

Coach is picking him over me. He'll be on second base, and I'll be on the bench, if I'm lucky.

When Oakland joined her at the end of the line, his smirk was back. "Saw you watching me. What, babe, you want this already? Locker room is probably empty right now..."

She didn't play back; she couldn't. Instead, she turned away, her face tight. Oakland was the reason all of this was happening. Before, she could handle him because coach was on her side. Coach cared about her, and thought she was valuable. Now, she wasn't.

"What? The sight of me crouched low, ready to attack, doesn't make you hot? Cause I can't wait to see what you look like out there, down low, those intense eyes staring, your pretty little mouth twisted up, ready to bite. Mmm."

"I'll be biting you in a second," she hissed, not playful. She was angry and defeated and she really wanted to eat chocolate and cry.

She felt him tug her ponytail. "I can't wait."

She jerked from him, heading out to where coach wanted her to stand, and she got low. She eyed the ball, her body focusing on catching the ball. She saw it in coach's eyes - he was sorry for what he said.

That didn't stop him from giving her a hard grounder, the ball bouncing to her far left, but she shot out slid, not caring around the floor burns she would have, and the ball rolled into her outstretched glove. She immediately popped up, throwing it to coach, ignoring the way her skin burned.

Her anger though burned harder.

After an hour of fielding grounders, Bee stiffly walked to the lockers, wanting to go home, but she would be at school for another 3 hours. I may be busy, but I make it work. She opened the locker room door, her joints sore, and she looked down at her watch when she saw how empty to locker room was.

Practice ran late she noted, realizing that the locker room was completely empty because all other sports teams had come and gone. And now, she would be late to set design. Her mouth pulled into a frown as she stepped towards her locker, spinning the combination and opening it.

Just as she did, a hand slammed it closed. She closed her eyes, knowing it had to be Fauna, and she spun. "Don't you think you've done enough?"

It wasn't Fauna, it was Oakland. He shoved her against the locker, his body immediately on hers, and his hand tunneled in her hair, gripping it tightly and forcing her head back. "Oh, Bee baby, no I don't think I have."

"What are you doing in here? You could get in a lot of trouble."

He grinned, pressing his face closer to hers. Trapping her. "You're the one in trouble. Why are you picking on Fauna? I don't take it nicely when others bully my friends, Beatrice."

Bee tried to push him back, but he wasn't budging. "I wasn't mean to your stupid friend! She's the one that cornered me in the bathroom and then told me to join the softball team! Which you know already because you put her up to it!"

"Excuse me?" His voice was low and threatening.

"Tell your friend to leave me the hell alone. You too, for that matter, can fuck right off. Leave me alone, Oakland."

His hold on her hair grew tighter and she winced. "You are going to wish you never met me, Beatrice Williams. I am going to destroy you. First, I'm going to see the way your face cries when I get second base. Then I'm going to love seeing how you cry once you finally fall for me, knowing that I'll never want you back. And finally, I am going to love taking you down and showing you that girls don't belong on baseball teams."

"Oh yeah? Well, I can't wait to show you just how sorry you'll be when you're begging me to take it easy on you when I'm captain. I can't wait to see you out of breath, sore and tired, begging me to let practice end. But guess what? I'll stretch it out for you, making you sweat for me, making you wish I cared about you and your wellbeing."

"Prove it." He snarled in her face, so close to snapping at her, and she hated it. Hated that he was heads taller than she way. Hated the way his dark hair was wild and unruly and begged to be touched. Hated how perfect his face was, how perfect his body was, hated her own reaction to him.

Then, before she could retort, he was yanking her face to his, and he kissed her. It was wild and chaotic and it was hot. There was nothing soft and slow about it, and his mouth opened over hers, forcing his way into her mouth, taking her with him.

The hand not in her hair was on her bare skin, gripping her hip tightly, rubbing her smooth skin. He was pushing her so hard into the locker, it hurt, but she wasn't going to let him win. She grabbed his hair and pulled, causing him to shout, and she took that opportunity to spin it, forcing her tongue in his mouth and taking over the kiss completely. She hooked her leg around his hips, forcing him to get closer.

She bit his bottom lip, hard, just because he called her a biter. When he pulled away, his expression was furious, but he wasn't done. The second kiss had her gasping for breath, had her moaning in his mouth because of how he was rubbing against her, pushing her against the locker and touching her chest like he owned her.

In that moment, he did.

His hands moved from her hair to her hips, picking her up and shoving her against the metal. She wrapped both legs around him, using him for leverage so that she was taller than he was, and she yanked his head back.

His eyes were dark and his face was angry. "Nice try, Oakland. Kissing me won't make me give up."

She unwrapped her legs, hopped down, then opened her locker door, turning her back on him. She would not let him see how much that kiss affected her, because it did. Instead, she reached for her bag, her arm shaking.

She felt him put his hands on the lockers beside hers leaning towards her. "That kiss wasn't meant to make you give up, battin' Bee." His voice was low and dark. "Although, if you want me to kiss you so hard you forget all rational thoughts..."

She tightened her grip on her bag and slammed her locker door shut, standing toe to toe with Oakland. She craned her head back to look at him. She let her hand trail down his chest slowly, and then she grinned. "Oakey, baby, I think we both know who's gonna lose their mind in this game we're playing. Be careful or you'll fall in love with little ol' me."

She fisted her hand in his shirt, yanking him low so they were nose to nose. She knew he wanted her to kiss him again; she could see it in his eyes. Instead, she pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, making him look like he had swallowed ice, and then she released him. "Don't tell Fauna, or else she'll be jealous you're making out with a baseball gal. She's hoping you're batting for her team."

Before he could say anything, she ducked under his arms and dashed to the locker room door, leaving him behind as she slid through it, running down the hallway. She couldn't stand it if he confronted her again. She wouldn't stand it.

Even as she ran to the auditorium, she felt her heart in her throat. She had told Oakland to be careful not to fall in love, but in that moment, Bee wondered if she needed that advice. Because, whether she liked it or not, Oakland was good looking, and he was an excellent kisser. So excellent, Bee knew she'd be thinking about it all night long.