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09. dial down the attitude

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟗
" 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 "
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            "We want a pitcher, not a belly-itcher!"

The players on the snow-covered pitch rumble with laughter at Ms. Kitty Coleridge's heckle against the player on the mound. The pitcher goes red in the face. She clutches the ball and hastily windmills it towards the batter, Kitty, who knocks it out of the park.

"Whoo!" Mack cheers, leaning over the barriers of the audience seats to get a better view. He's totally getting into this.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting front row of the nearly-empty stadium impatient for the game to end. What's the big deal about sports? Most of them are so alike, just watching balls get passed around or kicked around or hit with a bat. Everyone's sweaty. Everything moves too fast. I don't get the hype. 

Kitty zooms from base to base. Her teammates, and Mack, cheer her on while the opposing catchers fumble with the ball. Second base, third base, and ding ding ding! Home safe!

"They've won!" Mack exclaims, pumping a fist in the air. With his level of excitement, you'd think he knew the team or how the game works. He doesn't. Neither of us are big sports fans. 

"I know, Mack. I've been watching," I say, getting out of my seat and walking over to him.

"Have you? I thought you were falling asleep back there."

Playfully, I shove him with my shoulder. "I didn't come here to watch a game. I'm here on official business."

"Ah, right. The 'recruitment'," he says, putting air quotes on the last word. "How do you plan on doing that, by the way? It's not like you can hand them a pamphlet like a Mormon missionary."

Oh, I wish I could just hand them a pamphlet. It would make things so much easier for me, but I'm not sure these D-Class students actually know how to read.

"I'll talk to their president. Get her onboard," I say.

Mack nods, but the corners of his mouth tug downwards in doubt.

"What?"

He shrugs. "You're not the best at talking sometimes."

"What? I'm great at conversation! I'm polite. I'm witty --"

"When you're talking to teachers and adults," he says. "But with kids our age? You're a little... snobby."

"Snobby?!" It's the second time someone's accused me of that.

"Nico, have you ever had a conversation with a student outside the A-Class?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

I pout. Because they're not worth my time. I don't say it out loud because Mack already knows this, and I won't give him the satisfaction of actually hearing it from me.

"You've got a bit of a superiority complex, Nico."

"It's because I am superior."

He blinks and raises his eyebrows.

"Okay," I give in, raising my hands up. "I'll dial down the attitude. Now, where's that pink-haired weirdo?"

I look out to the pitch and the players are starting to file out. The pink highlights stand out from the rest. Kitty has stayed behind waiting for another player to join her.

I narrow my eyes, lean forward a little.

"Wait, is that..." Mack joins me in staring.

"Florence Lin," I pipe up. I didn't know she played softball, too.

Florence Lin takes her softball cap off, revealing full bangs and sports glasses. She runs up to Kitty with open arms, celebrating their win. She hugs her, hoisting the batter up with surprising ease. A former math whiz and a halfwit. What an odd pair.

"Oh, they're friends," I say.

Kitty giggles and, when she gets down on her feet, pulls the other girl's face in close and kisses her. On the mouth. My jaw slackens. My brain lags.

"They're... best friends?"

Mack rolls his eyes. "You can be so dense sometimes."

"What?" I ask, but he's already making his way down to the pitch. "Mack, what?"

"Come on," he says, beckoning me along.

We jump over the barrier and into the pitch just as Kitty and Florence Lin are about to enter the dugout.

"Hey," I call.

"Hi," Kitty chirps, immediately changing directions. Skipping, she heads towards us, all smiles and bright-eyed, more than happy to converse with a pair of strangers. Florence Lin, on the other hand, grimaces and begrudgingly follows in a beeline behind her.

"Nice game," I say though I wasn't paying as much attention as Mack.

"Aw, thanks!" she says. The corners of her eyes crinkle up in a smile. She punches me in the shoulder in what I assume is a friendly gesture but this girl does not know her own strength. That's gonna leave a bruise. 

"I'm Nicolas Gray-Gomez," I introduce, reaching out a gloved hand.

"What a mouthful. I'm gonna call you Nicky," she says, shaking my hand, a bit too eagerly. It's like shaking hands with a monkey buzzed with caffeine. 

I let out an uneasy laugh. "Nicky" makes me sound like a girl. I don't have the heart to deny her of that nickname though. She's too bubbly and doe-eyed. Besides, I'm here to make a good impression. 

I clear my throat. "This is Mack," I say, and he waves at them. Kitty waves back. Florence Lin only acknowledges with a nod. "And you're Kitty Coleridge, right?" I ask.

"The very one," she chirps. "What can I do for 'ya?"

God, this girl is so friendly and outgoing. A golden retriever in human form. She could beat Anya in a popularity contest if she had a few more brain cells. Popularity, like most things, takes a lot of cunning as well as charm.

"I'm getting transferred to your class next term," I say. 

"Aren't you A-Class?" Florence Lin asks, raising her brow. She's crossing her arms, tilting her chin up at me. So standoffish, absolutely nothing like her friend. This spectacled math whiz is the raincloud to Kitty's rainbows and sunshine personality. 

"Uh, yeah," I answer. "Well, not anymore."

"Why not?" she follows up.

She's riling me up with this little question-and-answer segment. I fight the urge to grimace. Dial down the attitude. Dial down the attitude, Nico.

"There was an incident during prelim exams," I say, trying to be vague but specific enough to stop Florence Lin from asking any more questions. "Anyway, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You wanna get hot cocoa? My treat."

Florence Lin narrows her eyes at me, but Kitty perks up at the mention of a hot beverage. They exchange looks. Florence Lin shakes her head at the pink-haired girl. She, in return, pleads with a puppy dog face.

Huh, that's exactly what I do to get Mack to budge. They must be really tight friends, like we are.

"Fine," Florence Lin gives in. "We'll change. Meet us out back."

Yes! Meeting: set. My plan is starting to roll.

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