Summer's Warmth, Spring's Light

How a guy met a girl, and how they became friends.

                He gripped the bench hard as the batter missed�"thrice in a row. The sharp whistle from the coaches signaled another batter to come up, him. Pulling his shirt collar, he flapped in a little breeze for his sticky and sweaty body, peeling his other hand off the bench. When he took the bat and helmet from the other batter, their eyes met.

                “Look, Drew, I’m sorry. My hands were wet and coach kept yelling at me when I dropped the bat. I never meant�"” Drew held up his hand so the boy would stop apologizing. Breaking into a close smile, Drew bumped his knuckle against his teammate’s shoulder, lightly.

                “You couldn’t help it, man. I’m not going to blame you because of that.”

                “R-Really?”

                “Definitely,” Drew promised, pulling the helmet over his head. Cracking his fingers, Drew went up to the batting base, eyes narrowed at the opponent’s pitcher. Wiping his slick hands on his shorts, Drew gripped the slippery bat as best as he could, standing in his “ready” position. His sweat kept running down his face, bringing down his bangs, clouding his vision.

                “You can do this, Drew!” his team cheered. “Remember the donation! Remember the kids in the hospital!” Soon enough, the crowed watching began to chant the same sentences at the top of their lungs.

                The opponent’s pitcher got into position, paused, and then…threw the ball. Not too early and not too late, his coach’s voice echoed in his head. Wait until you have the reflex-urge before taking the swing. Mirroring his movements to the speeding baseball, Drew smacked it. The bat slipped out of his hands from the force and Drew began to run, clenching his teeth at the pain that jumped between his fingers.

                The out-fielders ran around to get the perfect chance to catch the flying ball, but their efforts were worthless. The ball soared over them, over the crowd, over the baseball gate, and into a window, shattering the glass. It wasn’t just any window in any old building. It was a window from the hospital Drew’s team was raising money for.

                “S-Snap,” he panted, falling onto his face at the last base. The roar of the crowd and his coach’s whistle was lost in the heat.

                Later that afternoon, twiddling his thumbs, Drew followed a doctor to the room where he smashed the window. Knocking on the door, the doctor quickly whispered,

                “You know what to do: Apologize and thank the patient for her forgiveness.”

                “Yes, Sir,” Drew replied, playing with the bandages around his fingers. Opening the door, he stepped in, eyes staring intently on the floor.

                “Oh, you must be the batter that smashed our window,” a gentle voice said. Drew looked up and saw the face of a smiling woman and the face of a shocked little girl. He looked around. Good, no glass shards, he thought, sinking into a low bow.

                “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you both.”

                “No, it’s okay. It was hardly any trouble at all. Though, you did give my daughter, Kimmie, quite a shock. She was watching you and your team play baseball today.” Drew looked up, just in time to see Kimmie’s face turn pink. Giggling a bit, the woman added, “I believe she has a quite a crush on you, young man. There’s never a time she doesn’t look out the window to see you practice.”

                “M-Mommy,” Kimmie stuttered, pulling her blanket over her head. Drew chuckled a bit before asking Kimmie’s mother,

                “Is there any way I can repay you both?”

                “Hmm…Let’s see…I know, you can come and visit me and Kimmie after school next week. It’ll do her some good to socialize with people around her age.” Looking down sadly at her daughter, she added, “She really doesn’t have anyone to talk to. All she really does is read her manga.” Kimmie’s mother then pointed to the stack of manga that sat neatly on top of Kimmie’s blanket. “Will you take the offer?”

                “Sure, Mrs.….”

                “Mrs. Lexington,” Kimmie’s mother answered. Then, she turned to look at Kimmie. “What do you have to say to this boy?” Even if she was under a blanket, Drew could imagine Kimmie scratching her chin at her mom’s question.

                “Haru,” she finally responded. “I’ll call him Haru.”

                “Spring?” Drew whispered, shrugging. Then, in his normal tone, “Alright, Kimmie, you can call me ‘Haru’ if I can call you ‘Summer.’”

                There was a moment of silence as Kimmie pulled the blanket off of her. She looked at Drew with a frown before a smile curled over her lips. Tilting her head, she said,

                “Please take care of me.”

Author's Note

Something I wrote on the fly