Catching Jane

*Jane*I wake up feeling like I’ve got a mouth stuffed full of sand. The mini migraine pounding through my head isn’t helping either. Fortunately, all things considered, I’m not doing too bad.With a groan, I raise my head, trying to figure out where I am. I realize that I must’ve just thrown myself onto my bed last night, given that I’m still in my party outfit with hair that looks like I stuck my finger in a power outlet. When I look for Rachel, she’s in a slightly less dignified position —she ended up just sleeping on the floor, with one shoe missing. I absentmindedly note that it’s been abandoned halfway on the trek between the bathroom and where she decided to pass out for the night. “Rach?” I ask groggily, my voice sounding rough. I pick up a pillow to throw at her, and it bounces off her head. “Are you alive?”She makes an unintelligible sound and raises a hand to flip me off. “Oh great, you’re in good shape then.”“My head is killing me,” she grumbles, s

*Jane*Of course, he has a penthouse apartment. I don’t know why I was even surprised at this point. I look around, perplexed at the sheer amount of luxury around me. The left wall of the living area consists of a series of oversized floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city below, offering a view so spectacular that I walk over to get a better look. I don’t know if he decorated the place himself but it’s done well, with minimalist features that are simple but masculine. Absentmindedly, I pull at the oversized jacket he draped over my shoulders tighter around me. I’m struck again by the difference between the way I grew up and the lifestyle he is obviously accustomed to. I’d be lying to myself if I claimed it wasn’t at least slightly intimidating. “I’m surprised you’re not offering me a nightcap,” I joke, turning to look at him. He’s keeping a respectful distance, similar to how he did the night of the party. Like he’s waiting for my cues before he tries an

*Jane*Noah’s sudden change in mood took me by surprise. I tried hard not to take it personally, not when I knew that it most likely had nothing to do with me. And it wasn’t like he’d been overtly rude, just…distant. Colder than he’d been this morning. Still, I hate the sudden flip. “Don’t worry about it too much. Athletes tend to be very emotionally volatile when it comes to their sport,” Rachel says knowledgeably. “I can guarantee you that he’ll come crawling back to apologize for brushing you off once he realizes what he’s done.”It took a solid ten minutes of in-depth information poaching of my last conversation with Noah before Rachel ascertained that what he did wasn’t worthy of a red flag. Once she was sure of that, she tried to get me to relax and see that it wasn’t as bad as I thought at first. I knew even before her advice that it must’ve been related to the practice session he had. Granted, I still don’t know much about baseball. Noah’s thorough explanation

*Jane*The last place I was expecting to be taken to was the baseball field. But as we sit in his car, Noah looks at me with a mix of excitement and curiosity. We get out, and a chill runs through me that has little to do with temperature. The night air is pleasantly cool, and with the lights turned off, the sky is much clearer, proudly showing off its gorgeous canopy of stars. I look at the stands I was sitting in mere hours ago, and even though the stadium is so quiet, I can hear the blood pounding in my ears, the phantom presence of the crowds that occupied the space before makes what we’re doing feel so much more lewd.“Have you ever done anything outside?” Noah asks, his voice mischievous as he moves around to the back of the car. I move to join him. “Of course not,” I reply, whispering even though I’m pretty sure we’re the only people around. He retrieves a blanket from the trunk, then holds out his arm for me to take. “How classy of you,” I add, half joking as

*Jane*Not again. This is not happening again. The first time was a forgivable offense, but I hate how this feels like it’s becoming a habit. The second Noah walks away from me, I give myself a few seconds to feel hurt before I turn on my heel and leave. I remember his words from the night before. That apology rings empty now in the face of what he just said. I get pressure and stress, but I refuse to just stand there and bear the brunt of his issues. My phone buzzes and I see a message from Rachel.Rach: Hey hey. Class is boring, need some entertainment. How’re things with you and Noah?Me: Not great. Same as last time. Bad practice session and I get blown off. I don’t know how much more of this I’m willing to take.When the little bubbles indicating she’s texting begin to go off, I know that there’s a wall of text incoming. And what a paragraph it is. Rachel’s response is replete with colorful language and very creative descriptors that actually ma