Malone

“You want a water?” I ask as we’re nearing the top of the fourth inning. The sun has angled in a way it’s not roasting us anymore, but I’m so thirsty I could drink the day-old water bottle sitting in my car right now.

“Yeah.” She reaches into her pocket to hand me some money. 

“I got it, you want anything else?” 

“Nah, the food makes me sick when I get hot.” She shakes her head, clapping as the team gets a hit.

Throwing my ...