Base Hit by Haven Hadley

1

Vander

I hikedmy duffle higher on my shoulder, pushing through the double doors. The room was empty, giving me time to look around and really take in the fact that I was standing in the locker room of the Espen Emperors. A place I never thought I'd make it to.

Along the wall there were wooden lockers lined up. No doors on the front, just everyone's names at the top. In each space hung a jersey with the number facing the middle of the room, and a chair in front of every locker. I glanced around, looking for my own name, not sure where I should put my stuff.

I wandered farther into the space when a door at the far side caught my eye. Through the glass window, I could see Joe Andrews sitting behind his desk, head down, scribbling on a paper. Joe was the manager of the Emperors and the man whose voice I heard on the phone that day the call came. Honestly, I almost passed the fuck out. I'd been playing in the minors for the last three years, waiting for my shot. One that seemed like it would never come.

Was I as good as I was when I first arrived on the Triple A team? No, definitely not. Even as I got better and better and saw people being moved up before me, I started to think I'd be playing on the minor league team forever. That my chance at the Big Show would never come. If it weren’t for the trade to the Emperors, it may never have.

Joe's head lifted and he locked eyes with me. A smile split his lips as he stood up and came around his desk. The door flew open.

"Vander, it's good to see you." He approached me with his hand outstretched.

"Thanks, Joe. It was nice to get your call."

"Let me show you to your locker so you can get unpacked. The rest of the team should start showing up in about twenty minutes."

He walked me over to one side of the room where my name sat on the top of one of the lockers and number 34 hung from the hook, waiting for me to put it on.

"Thanks, man."

Joe tilted his head toward his office. "I gotta get today's lineup done. If you need anything, let me know.”

"Thanks," I said again and turned back to the locker.

I'd almost finished emptying my bag when voices reached my ears. I glanced up and saw some of the team walking into the locker room, heading to their own lockers to get dressed for the game, when one guy in particular caught my attention.

Callen Teague.

My gut clenched and I felt the vein in my temple begin to throb. Part of me knew the only reason I'd gotten a chance at the majors was that being gay in baseball wasn't a big deal anymore. Out and proud since I was sixteen, I hadn't flaunted my sexuality, but I sure as fuck hadn't hidden it like Callen Teague had. He played the politics I refused to play. I wouldn't hide a part of myself for a chance at the major leagues. It was up to the damn league to realize their fucking homophobic bullshit needed to go. But they didn't, and I stayed in the minors.

Then, Teague came out to the world.

What were they supposed to do? Make a big deal out of it and lose the best fucking shortstop the league had seen in years? I didn't think so. Maybe I should have been thanking him. Thanking him for making being gay in baseball okay and helping me break out of the stigma I'd been shoved into.

But I couldn't. Assholes like him were the exact reason why being gay in baseball was a problem. They were willing to bury themselves so deep in the closet that no GPS on the planet would be able to get them the hell out, just for a shot at the pros. If more guys like Callen would have stood up and said from the beginning that they were gay, would the league really have been willing to let someone like him walk away without a contract? Highly fucking doubtful. Then, the rest of us wouldn’t be playing for peanuts in the minors. I worked my ass off on the field and still held down two other jobs just to keep a roof over my head. And that roof covered three other players at the same time.

So, there I stood, staring at the man who could have changed my life three years ago but was too much of a fucking coward to do it. With a sneer on my lips, I turned back to my bag and finished pulling out all my stuff.

I'd started setting the things in my locker when I heard a voice behind me.

"Hey." I glanced over and of course came face-to-face with Callen Teague. He had a hand stretched out to me. "I'm Callen. You must be Vander."

I glanced down at his hand and back up at him. He wasn't stupid and noticed the move, instantly dropping his hand to his side.

"You won't get gay cooties by shaking my hand. I suggest if you want to be a homophobic asshole, you let Joe know now because none of us are putting up with that bullshit."

He glanced around and I noticed some of the team now paying attention to our conversation, nodding their heads.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Hard to be a homophobe when you like dick yourself."

Callen narrowed his eyes at me. "Then, what the fuck is your problem? I just came over to welcome you to the clubhouse."

I scoffed. "I should have been here years ago, but I had to wait for the great Callen Teague to come out of the closet to be accepted into the majors."

Callen shook his head. "It's not fair that you had to wait until I came out to be brought up. The league shouldn't work that way, but I'm not seeing how that's my fault."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dominic Truby step up next to Callen. “Yeah, it's not his fault your ass has been stuck down there. Maybe you're not as good as you think you are."

Callen punched Dominic in the arm. "Don't be a dick. It's bad enough to have one in the room; we don't need two. And Joe wouldn't have called him up if he weren’t good."

Callen turned back to me. "Well, when you decide to stop being an asshole, let me know and maybe you can find a place here. Until then, I don't think you're going to have a very good time."

"Doubt that's going to happen anytime soon," I muttered under my breath.

Callen turned and walked off with Dominic in tow. What was he, his fucking bodyguard? I closed my eyes and turned back to the locker. I'd told myself to keep my cool and shut my mouth, but no, I couldn’t help but run my trap.

Jesus. What a way to start my first day on the team.

First, I tell one of the biggest stars of the team to go fuck himself. Then, I announce to the entire locker room I’m gay. Not that they wouldn’t have figured it out sooner or later. I wasn’t a coward and had no plans on hiding my sexuality.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. There were two options: pretend I gave a damn or be true to myself and really not give a shit.

I rolled my shoulders back and ignored every fucking one of them. My skills were the only thing I’d need to prove I belonged here, which I sure as fuck did.

Slowly, things settled down around me as I pulled on the jersey for the first time. Every once in a while, I noticed some of the players glancing over at me before going back to their conversations.

This was going to be a long fucking day.

Joe came out of his office a few minutes later, thank god. Everyone was dressed and ready for the game, no longer paying attention to me. Once everyone took a seat, I followed suit. Not for them, but there was no way in hell I’d disrespect Joe. I leaned forward and clasped my hands in front of me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I felt eyes on me. I ignored them and kept my eyes trained on Joe. No need for any more confrontations today.

“Now that the All-Star break is over, I expect you all to have your shit together. With Banks being shipped off to another team—” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the hard set of Teague’s face. “—we brought Vander Devlin on. He’ll be our starting left fielder from here on out.” Joe gestured toward me.

“Oh, we’ve met.” Teague’s sharp tone filled the room.

Joe glanced at him and then back at me. “Is there a problem?”

I didn’t take my eyes off Teague while I answered. “Not a single one.”

Joe narrowed his eyes and glanced at his watch. “Everyone out. Get ready for warm-ups.” His command was sharp, leaving no room for argument.

The rest of the team stood, taking their gloves and caps as they headed out the door. I grabbed my own shit to follow when I heard Joe call out my name.

I turned in his direction. “Get in my office. Now.”

Teague smirked at me over his shoulder as he walked out the door. Fuck. Not a good way to start my first game.

I stepped into the room and heard the door slam shut behind me. Joe came around to stand in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I guess I should’ve made myself clear earlier when you got here, but I figured word on the street would already be enough.”

I dropped my glove onto the chair next to me and mimicked his stance. “Clear about what?”

Joe narrowed his eyes and his face turned red. “The Emperors don’t put up with homophobic bullshit, so if you have a problem with Callen, then you better speak up now.”

“Not homophobic. Can’t be when I’m gay.” I let the words hang in the air.

His brows drew together. “But you have a problem with Callen?”

I scoffed. “I have a problem with him hiding in the closet for so long it kept guys like me in the minors.”

Joe’s arms dropped to his sides. “Is it fair that you were ignored until now? No, but that’s not Callen’s fault. Blame baseball’s bullshit for that. Some advice? You may want to fix that chip on your shoulder, ‘cause it ain’t gonna do you any good here.” He clasped me on the shoulder and walked around to the door, pulling it open. “Grab your glove and get on the field.”

I followed him out to the field, doing my best to push his words from my head. I’d deal with Callen Teague and everyone else’s opinions later. Now was the time to show them why I should’ve been playing in the majors all along. I took my place in far left field, knowing the beginning line up of the Maryland Backfins had some serious power behind them.

Although, the power seemed to be missing in the top of the first inning when they went down one, two, three. Only one of the balls ever reached me and it was an easy catch.

Being placed third in the lineup didn’t give me much time to sprint in and get warmed up to hit after the final out, but I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. The sound of the crowd filled my soul. One out and one runner on and it was my chance up at the plate.

Don’t screw this up.

I stepped into the batter’s box, waiting for my pitch. Hearing my name being chanted by the crowd gave me a feeling I’d always dreamed of. As the first pitch slid toward the plate, I knew it was the right one, no need to wait for another. I swung, hearing the sweet sound of a ball connecting with the bat and ran. The ball went screeching past the first baseman into right field. Jose Olivera took off from second, easily making it around third on his way to home by the time the right fielder got his hands on the ball. There hadn’t been enough time for me to get past first. Why would I care? An RBI in my first major league at bat. I’d take a single any day of the week, knowing I batted a run in. The base coach cheered and held his hands out for my batting gloves.

I settled onto the base, waiting for Teague to get his ass up to the plate, and glanced up at the stands to take in the crowd when I froze. On the lower level selling beer had to be the sexiest man I’d ever seen.