In Every Heartbeat - By Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,35

Already some of them were shifting restlessly, apparently tired of standing. Libby decided the players had been wise to settle on a short game of three innings only—a rematch, Bennett had called it, for his team to regain its dignity.

Libby peeled Alice-Marie’s fingers from her arm. “Beta Theta Pi? Is that the team Pete and Bennett are on?”

For a moment, Alice-Marie’s lips puckered into a pout. “No. They’re playing with a group of Delta Tau Delta boys.” With a little expulsion of breath, she snatched up her parasol and snapped it open. “And I just don’t understand. If Bennett intends to pledge Beta Theta Pi, why would he choose to play against them? Surely that will not soften them toward him. . . .”

Libby shrugged. She’d long ago given up trying to figure out Bennett’s motivations. He did whatever pleased him, regardless of another’s opinion. At times, his self-serving actions annoyed her, but other times she envied him. Bennett was the most carefree person she knew.

Alice-Marie rested the parasol handle against her left shoulder, shielding both her and Libby’s faces from the sun. “Regardless of his reasoning, I’m eager to see him play. I just know he’ll be the best on either team.”

Libby rolled her eyes. Alice-Marie’s fascination with Bennett was growing more tiresome by the hour, but she knew nothing she could say would dissuade her roommate from seeing Bennett as a knight in shining armor. However, Alice-Marie’s infatuation provided Libby with fodder for the stories she worked on between classes and late at night. She discovered writing at night, her page illuminated only by a thin band of moonlight, was the most productive time. The stories flowed so easily, they almost wrote themselves.

One group of players—attired in trousers, suspenders, and shirts with their sleeves rolled above their elbows rather than baseball uniforms—darted out onto the grass. A cheer rose as they positioned themselves at bases or out in the field. Libby scanned their faces. Few were familiar, except the pitcher, who wore a strip of white tape across the bridge of his nose. She pursed her lips in disgust. That detestable Roy.

Even without the telltale bandage marking his healing nose, she’d have known him by his curly brown hair that fell across his forehead in a roguish way. She supposed he had the looks of a storybook hero, but she’d never use him in her stories—unless she had need of a true lout.

Roy held the ball toward the audience, his grin wide. Alice-Marie patted her palms together, bouncing on her seat. Her parasol slipped sideways and bopped Libby on the temple. With a little grunt, Libby shifted to the edge of the blanket. The sun hit her full in the face, but she shielded her eyes with her hand and watched Roy throw three perfect pitches across home plate. The first batter went down without once swinging his bat.

The cheers set Libby’s teeth on edge. What did these people see in that arrogant oaf? If Bennett and Petey weren’t playing, she’d return to the dormitory where she could write in peace—it seemed the entire student body had come out to watch the game—but Petey had indicated he would be pitching. She hoped he would make Roy look like an inept bumbler.

The second batter got a hit, but it bounced right to the first baseman, who scooped it up and touched the base long before the runner reached it. More cheers chased the defeated fellow back to his team. Then Bennett stepped up to bat. Alice-Marie let out a squeal that nearly pierced Libby’s eardrum.

Libby frowned at her. “I thought you were rooting for Beta Theta Pi?”

Alice-Marie hunched her shoulders. “I couldn’t resist. Look at him, so handsome and muscular, with his hair shining like rich red satin.” She released a deep sigh.

With a soft snort, Libby turned her attention to Bennett. Alice-Marie was right about Bennett being muscular. His biceps bulged as he angled the bat over his shoulder. Bending his knees, he faced the pitcher with a look of concentration on his face.

Roy’s lips twisted into a sneer. He smacked the ball into his mitt and planted his weight on one hip. “Well, well, well, look who’s up. It’s gonna give me great pleasure to strike you out, Martin.”

“Give it a try.” Bennett held his position, his lips barely moving as he spoke.

Roy spat on the grass and went into an elaborate windup. The onlookers broke into hoots and cheers as the ball zinged straight and true