College senior Traci Anderson has waited five long years for this moment – the moment she’s no longer Coach Rubio’s student. Will their final party fulfill her fantasies?
“Batter, batter, swing!” The girls standing by Coach Rubio in their dugout screamed at the batter from Tower State.
Julie Rubio clutched her arms tightly across her chest. These were the moments she coached for, she lived for. The game in the balance. Her Tigers were ahead by one run in the top of the ninth with one out, but the Tower Trojans had runners at the corners. She’d just returned from the pitcher’s mound with all her infielders gathered around, where she’d simply reminded her pitcher to trust her defense. They’d been strong all season long. There was no reason to expect that to evaporate now in their last game.
From the dugout steps, she stared out at her shortstop, Traci Anderson, who was pounding her glove, shouting out to the pitcher. “We’ve got your back!”
Julie knew she’d never forget the pluck of her feisty senior shortstop. An excellent fielder and a reliable hitter, the girl could’ve earned a scholarship at a Division Two school, maybe even Division One. But instead she’d chosen to come to Central State, a Division Three school with no possibility of a scholarship, to play for Julie. They’d bonded immediately the summer before Traci’s senior year of high school at a two-week training camp. Traci was one of the hardest working and most determined players Julie had ever coached. Next year’s team would miss Traci. Julie shuddered. Hell, she’d miss the spunky shortstop whose long blonde ponytail swished wildly as she danced a slow stutter step, anticipating the ball.
Julie tensed at the sudden crack of the bat and the sight of the sharply hit ground ball heading past the pitcher toward second. “Yes!” she said to no one in particular as Traci Anderson dashed to her left, gloved the ball and flipped it to the second baseman, who spun and threw to first for the double play. A faster runner might’ve beaten the throw, but not the other team’s chubby catcher.
Instantaneously, the girls from the dugout scampered onto the field, yelling their heads off. Gathering at the pitcher’s mound, the players hugged and screamed their joy. Their season had ended on a high.
Since it was the last game of the season, Julie bided her time at the top of the dugout steps. Then one by one she hugged each girl as they came back to the dugout to pick up their belongings. It didn’t surprise her at all that her captain shortstop was the last one off the field.
“Great play, Traci,” Julie said, hugging her tight and thumping her back. “You’ve been such an inspiration for the team these past four years.”
Traci tipped her head back and beamed at Julie through tears. “Thanks. Sally had to make a great throw to first, too.”
“You’ve been a great tandem. We’ll miss both of you next year.”
Traci dipped her head against Julie’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss you, too. So much. You’ve been the inspiration. Really.”
Julie hugged her tight. She’d learned over the years that parting never came easy. “Don’t forget my party Saturday for you seniors.”
“Of course I won’t,” Traci said, pulling away. As if on a whim, she rose on her toes and brushed her lips lightly across Julie’s. “I’m no longer your student, you know. How does that feel?”
Before Julie had a chance to respond, the blond sprite dashed off.
How does that feel? Traci no longer her student—or those lips? What the hell was that about?
