Spring Perfection Read Free

here. This is Charleston after all.
Do you feel at home here?"
    Reyna shook her head. "It's not the same. Yes, there is
marshland here, but this isn't an island. There is something different about
living on an island. There's something different about the feel of the wind,
the smell of air and the taste of the breeze. The sunset on an island surrounds
you and feels like warmth is hugging you."
    For a moment I thought she was getting confused in the English
language. Her English was nearly perfect since her father was American, but
sometimes I noticed that she couldn't exactly translate things the way she
wanted. But after I thought about it for a moment more, I realized she had said
exactly what she meant. I also realized that one day I was going to help her
have the feeling again.

 

Top
of the Seventh

 
    The sixth inning still brings no score. We are still ahead one to
zero.
    I find myself hoping the other team will hit a homerun or
something and take the pressure off of me. Then I can fake some shoulder strain
and get out of the game. I will head out to the locker room and then sneak off
to the surprise I had for Reyna. Yeah, that can work. I just have to get out of
here.
    I throw a fast ball straight down the middle. Just as I thought,
the batter hits a long one down the left field line. The ball is so out of
here. But then Derek suddenly turns into Spiderman and nearly scales the wall
to make an incredible catch.
    The crowd explodes in applause. The batter is out.
    This means I have to continue my perfect game. I catch a glimpse
of Sam in the bleachers. She is standing with her hands on her hips and glaring
at me as if I have just beat a baby seal with a bat. My behavior is
unacceptable to her. Somehow she knows what I am trying to do. She will kill me
if I ruin this chance at a perfect game. She already told me at the beginning
of the season that there is a brand new mustang convertible waiting for me if I
accomplish this. To be honest, this game means more to her than it does to me.
    Returning to the dugout I try to block out Coach who is yammering
in my ear about being only nine outs away from making history. No high school
student has ever pitched a perfect game against a college team. Even though
this is just an exhibition game, I am sure it will be on the local news
tonight. It might even make the national news.
    I am not so sure why I am so on today. Why can't any of the
College of Charleston players hit against me today? It's like I'm unstoppable
and I'm not even trying that hard. I don't even want to play this game. It was
a last minute addition to our schedule. I had my day with Reyna all planned
when Coach called me in his office yesterday afternoon and told me I would be
pitching.
    At the beginning of the game, I just wanted it to be over as soon
as possible. That was why I kept throwing strike after strike. But by the
bottom of the fourth when no one had made it on base, I started hearing
whisperings of a perfect game. And now, I start to feel the pressure of the
possible perfect game.
    I lean my head back and close my eyes trying to drown out all the
sounds of the cheering fans, the crack of the ball against the bat, even the
sound of cleats on grass. These are sounds that I usually love. But today, I
just want it to be over. I have to get to Reyna. I can't let her down again...I
shudder at the thought of the last time I had let her down.

 
 

Seventh
Grade Dance

 
    I'm not in love with Reyna. At least that's what I've been telling
myself for the past five and a half years. Even though she was my first kiss
due to a little playground experiment in the sixth grade and even though she
was the only person that actually knew me...the real me. I loved her like a
friend and nothing more. Or so I thought.
    I thought taking her to the seventh grade dance would be no big
deal. But if she was only a friend to me, why was it so hard for me to ask her
to go to the dance in the first place? Why did the palms