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Cold Hearted Baller
I have three superstitions I live by: 1. No dating all season. 2. Don’t jinx a no-hitter while one’s in progress. 3. Be cold-hearted. If you find something you think about more than baseball, destroy it.
Calliope Thomas is one of those things. Ever since she left a bad review on the Max Energy Drink I endorse, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Obviously, when she said she hoped I had a losing season, I had to meet her and get her to take the words back.
Now, she’s making me do insane things. Like, obsess over the color of her panties or if I can make her blush. Read superstition one—I don’t do this sort of thing. I play ball, not chase after a woman I barely know.
But, I am, and she wants nothing to do with me. She thinks I’m the devil. And I have to say she makes me want to sin.
I’m becoming a borderline stalker. And to make matters worse she’s affecting my game. I can’t pitch. I can’t hit. I can’t focus. Something needs to give, and it won’t be me.