Playing Hard to Get

After paying the bill, the Whitmens vacate their table and head towards the door. They make sure to thank Patty one last time and bid their farewells as they exit the diner. Outside, a warm breeze sweeps by. The seven of them walk towards their vehicles parked down the street with their stomachs all filled and their countenances exuberant. Then, Nick's phone starts blaring and his eyes widen while his mouth falls ajar. "Shit," he curses, slapping a palm over his face.

"What's the matter?" Alexander inquires, trying to see who the caller is.

"Jane," his older brother answers. That familiar, one-syllable name has everyone, including Mr Whitmen, shuddering in less than ten seconds.

"Your ex-girlfriend again?" Chase groans.

"What the hell does she want now?" Charlie rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval. She couldn't believe how desperate and pathetic some girls could get when it came to boys. What kind of bullshit is running through their heads to have them behaving in such shameful manners? Charlie has never been one to judge but Jane had hurt her brother which automatically makes her a terrible person.

"What else?" Ian scoffs.

"Whatever. I'm not going to answer it." Nick asserts, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "Anyways, I have to get to work. Do you need me to drop you off at the batting cage, Charlie? I have to go and talk to Paul."

"Why not." Charlie shrugs as she climbs into the Jeep. "See you guys at home."

"Call me if you need a ride back," her father orders. The rest of her brothers get into the dark brown pickup truck that has been in their family longer than any of them have even been alive.

"I can take the bus."

"Not if it's dark out you aren't," he denies almost immediately.

"Dad," Charlie drones, letting her head fall back. "I am more than capable of taking care of myself."

"I know you are but it'll make me feel better," Mr Whitmen explains. "You are, after all, my little girl." He reaches into the car and ruffles her hair which is all confined into a ponytail.

The engine roars to life and Charlie buckles her seatbelt. "Fine, just don't call me that again."

Mr Whitman laughs and nods. "Deal."

Next, Nick shifts the gear to drive and peels away from the curb. As they cruise down the road, Charlie peers into the side-view mirror and watches as her father's figure, standing on the sidewalk, grows smaller and smaller. When he is no longer in sight, she faces forward and sighs out loud. "He should learn to trust me more."

"It's not that he doesn't trust you, Charlie," Nick says, coming to a complete stop at a red-light. "It's just—he worries about us."

"But it's not like I'm some defenseless kid. I've fought with guys twice my size growing up and I'm perfectly fine now, aren't I?" she reminds him, sticking her chin up into the air.

"And, if I remember correctly, one of them fractured your wrist," he snorts, releasing the brake pedal once the light changes to a vibrant green.

"Oh please," the girl scoffs as she turns to the driver. "Billy Heaper got extremely lucky that time. If I hadn't been recovering from my fight with that annoying kid who used to pick on Alex, I would have beaten the living daylights out of him and his fat ass for sure."

"I know, I know. You proved your point when you broke both his arm and his nose the following month." Nick bursts out into a wildly contagious laughter and Charlie joins him without reluctance.

"Karma's a bitch. It was his fault for running his mouth so recklessly," she huffs.

"Very true," he agrees.

"But onto another topic, how are you and that Skylar chick doing?" A smirk finds its way onto Charlie's lips as she eagerly awaits her brother's reply.

"I don't know. I can't read her. She's complicated," Nick whines. "I don't even think she likes me the way I like her."

"Well, you just have to grow a pair and ask her out. I like her and I think she's a good fit for you."

"You only think she's a good fit for me because she's a gamer."

"So? Gamer chicks are cool. Plus, she's pretty cute too. Isn't she your ideal type?" she asks knowingly.

"Ho-how do you know what my ideal type is?" he stammers

Suddenly, the car comes to an abrupt stop and Charlie's body lurches forward rather violently. If she hadn't been wearing her seatbelt, she would have smashed her skull against the dashboard. "What the fuck? Are you trying to get us killed?!" she screams.

"Oh my god! Charlie Whitmen! Did you read my journal?" Nick yells, horrified.

"It wasn't my fault you left it lying around out in the open! I was bored," she confesses truthfully.

"I can't believe you! That is a total invasion of my privacy!"

"What's the big deal? It's not like I copied entries from your diary and posted them up everywhere for people to see. I only read a few pages anyways."

"It's not a diary!" her brother exclaims adamantly. "I can't believe you. I feel so—I feel so violated!"

"Cry me a river, build a bridge and get over it. You'll survive."

"I am definitely going to get you back," Nick warns as he squints his eyes menacingly at her.

"Yeah, yeah. Now start driving, will you? Or we'll both be late," Charlie demands, dismissing his harmless threat. She knows very well that out of her brothers, after Cameron, Nicholas is the nicest and wouldn't dare hurt her, emotionally or physically.

The male growls quietly but resumes driving towards their destination nonetheless.

For the rest of the car ride, Nick remains sour after discovering that his younger sister has read his journal but Charlie is not all too bothered by it. When they arrive and the car is parked, she leaps out of the Jeep and strolls towards the main entrance of P&J's Batting Cage and Baseball Galore. She throws the door open but does not cross the threshold just yet. Exhaling, she looks back over her shoulder and spots Nick trudging her way. "I'm sorry. I won't read your diary ever again. To make amends, you can ask me to do whatever you want me to do for the next three days."

"Seriously?" Nick gawks as he runs up to her.

"I am a woman of my word," she affirms.

"Sweet," the young fellow coos, entering the one-story building. Charlie sucks her teeth and chuckles silently before she follows him. It's pretty easy to win him back over.

As soon as the duo set foot inside, they are immediately bombarded with greetings and warm welcomes coming from every direction. It is safe to say that these two Whitmens are well-known at the batting cage. They exchange some words with a few people and then they make their way towards the register where the office is also located afterwards.

"Hey Paul," Nick calls out. The man, with bleach blond hair, looks up from the calculator sitting in front of him and flashes the pair a wide smile.

"How are you doing, Nick?" Paul asks, leaving his place behind the counter. In return, Charlie takes his spot.

"I actually need to talk to you," he announces. Nick peeks over at Charlie and Paul understands that he means in private.

"Sure thing. Just step into my office," he says, gesturing to the door in the back. "You can handle things out front, right Charlie?"

The girl stares at her boss with a blank expression before the corners of her lips twitch upwards. "No shit, Sherlock. I've been working here for two years already. I could do things with my eyes closed."

"Hey, not cool. Watch your language. I'm your boss here, not your big cousin," the man warns playfully, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes sir," she replies mockingly as she salutes him.

The door closes and Charlie is left alone to cater to the customers who might need her assistance. Her eyes sweep over the interior. For a Sunday afternoon, she realizes that there sure are a lot of people around. With nothing else to do, she carefully observes and mentally criticizes the batters who, in her opinion, are performing rather poorly. It's sad for her to have to witness this kind of thing, especially from guys her age but after seeing them bat, she now understands why they need the extra practice.

"Thanks for the help," Nick gratifies, coming out of the office with Paul trailing him.

"Anytime. This is what family does," his older cousin beams.

Nick opens his mouth but is rudely interrupted by his phone going off... again. He sends Paul a sheepish smile and retrieves the device. The colors in his face quickly disappear and he lets out a moan of distaste. His actions do not go unnoticed by his sister who hops off the stool and leans over his shoulder. Once she sees who it is, her face hardens in comparison to his.

"Give me that." Without waiting for his approval, Charlie impulsively snatches her brother's phone, marches a couple of feet away from him and picks up the call. "Listen closely, you cheating, superficial bitch. Stop calling Nick. He does not want anything to do with you. Don't you understand that? You fucked up. It's your fault that you guys aren't together anymore. You have no one but yourself to blame. Just because you're hot and have big boobs, you think he'll forgive you just like that and take you back because you made a mistake? He isn't that shallow or stupid. So do us all a favor and fuck off. Understand? Good." She doesn't even give the girl a chance to talk and hangs up. "There, problem solved," she declares as she tosses the phone back to its rightful owner.

"Charlie." Nick gapes in disbelief.

"No need to thank me," she comments, tucking her hands into her pockets.

"Did you have to be that harsh?" he wonders, feeling a little bit guilty. Sure, he doesn't like his ex-girlfriend anymore, but that doesn't mean he's stopped caring about her.

"Girls like that won't get the message if you're nice to them. They'll just think that you're a pushover and do whatever the fuck they want. You have to stick it to them. Make sure you've made yourself so clear that even a fish could understand you," Charlie says matter-of-factly. "It had to be done. And the fact that I never really liked Janet was also factored in but who cares? I don't."

"Her name is Jane," Nick intuitively corrects.

Charlie quirks a brow. "And why does that matter?"

Her brother cocks his head to the side and moments later, an amused smile graces his lips. "You're right. It doesn't. Anyways, I'm going to work now. Thanks for sticking it to Janet for me, Charlie. You're the best." He moves in, prepared to embrace his sister when she puts both of her hands out, stopping him.

"I know I'm the best. Public displays of affection are not needed. Just leave, please and thank you."

The smile is still adamant on Nick's face, despite her declination, and granting her request, he takes his leave.

"Wow. Aren't you something," a velvety, thick voice remarks out of nowhere, catching Charlie by surprise.

She swivels around and meets a pair of grayish-blue eyes. One she has never seen before. "What?" she questions, unfazed by the stranger's handsome features. She glances left and then right before returning her attention back towards him. "Are you talking to me?"

"No, I'm talking to Janet," the boy teases, his lips hitched to one side. It takes a minute for Charlie to realize that this person she has never encountered before had been eavesdropping on her conversation. Her expression becomes immensely incensed at this revelation. But not wanting to cause a big scene, she decides to ignore him and returns to her station. "Hey, don't you know it's impolite to walk away from someone who is trying to have a conversation with you?" he calls out, chasing after her.

"Conversations involve the interest of two people and guess what? I'm not interested. So get lost," Charlie spits callously. She's not in any kind of mood to entertain him. She has no idea who he is and she has no intention of finding out either.

"I am lost," the boy counters. He leans in and boldly plants his face a few centimeters away from Charlie's. She, however, remains unaffected by the close proximity. "In your beautiful emerald green eyes that is."

How original. "Does that kind of shitty garbage ever work on other girls for you?" By this point, Charlie has her jaw clenched and her hands balled up into fists. "I'm going to count to three and if you don't get at least ten yards away from me, I am going to hit you," she advises, her patience rapidly depleting.

"Maybe that's what I want," he purrs, his eyes falling down to her rosy pink lips.

"One."

"You're not going to scare me away, angel."

"Two."

"You know, I like girls who play hard to—"

"Three." Charlie pushes away, pulls her arm back and throws a punch which causes the boy to lose his footing and fall onto his rear-end. To be fair, she did give him a warning.

"What the fuck?" he hisses, holding onto his aching jaw as he climbs back up to his feet.

"I warned you, prick. Now get lost before I really beat the shit out of you," Charlie snickers as she cracks her knuckles to show him that she is, indeed, serious.

The boy grits his teeth but makes the smart choice and departs. She couldn't tell you how many guys have tried hitting on her only to fail miserably. Charlie watches him stalk off and a feeling of triumph consumes her. The sensation is short-lived, though, when her hand begins to throb. "Fuck. Why does he have such a hard face?" she grumbles. "Whatever. That ought've taught him a lesson."

Little does Charlie know that the boy she had stumbled upon on this particular Sunday afternoon has never been too good at learning his lessons.

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Author's Thoughts: Oh my goooooooood. That GIF of Charlie is perfect!