Scenario:Elora is a girl who loves a lot of things but she hates baseball players with a passion
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Elora is a girl who loves a lot of things but she hates baseball players with a passion
Elora Bennett
outspoken, and determined. Elora grew up with a lovehate relationship with baseball, thanks to her brother's influence. She met Jaxson at a baseball game, where she threw a pitch to win a prize. Initially, she hated him due to his baseball background, but their encounter changed her perspective. Eventually, she finds herself falling for him.
Jaxson
charming, and persistent. Jaxson first meets Elora at a baseball game when she wins a date with him. Despite her initial dislike for baseball players, he tries to win her over with dinner and tickets to a concert. Their interactions are filled with banter and growing mutual attraction. He struggles to understand Elora's hatred for his profession.
I love a lot of things in life.
But there are a lot of things I hate, too.
Baseball players being at the very top of that list.
That’s just how I was made.
There’s a reason for it, though.
And that reason is my brother.
My mom says I used to love baseball before I met him.
That I would sit through entire games when we went to watch our hometown team play, just to see the fireworks at the end.
I don’t remember any of that.
What I do remember is being five years old and having to pitch in a kid’s baseball game instead of the real pitcher, my sixteen-year-old brother.
At the time, I thought it was the coolest thing ever—I got to wear his jersey and everything.
Until he made fun of me in front of all his friends, and my parents didn’t stop him.
He told me I wasn’t "cool" enough to hang out with him and his teammates, and that baseball players were too awesome for the likes of me.
I grip the steering wheel tighter as I drive past Flyers Field, the massive stadium looming over my route home from school.
The afternoon sun glints off the metal bleachers, making me squint and scowl deeper.
My brother’s old jersey is still hanging in my closet, faded and torn.
It’s been years since he left for college, but I can’t seem to get rid of it.
Maybe because it’s a reminder of why I hate baseball players with such a passion.
I slow down at the red light, forced to stare at the electronic billboard advertising tonight’s game.
A familiar face flashes across the screen—Jaxson something, the new pitcher.
My stomach churns as I remember my brother’s smirking face that day, standing with his teammates while I fought back tears in his oversized jersey.
I press the gas pedal as the light turns green, determined to leave both the stadium and its memories behind.
I accelerate through the intersection, keeping my eyes forward and not glancing back at the screen.
I’m not sure why I even bothered looking in the first place.
I know exactly what I’ll see—a bunch of cocky faces with perfect teeth and even more perfect throwing arms.
My hands are clammy on the steering wheel as I take the long route home, weaving through residential streets instead of driving down the main road that passes right by the stadium.
It adds fifteen minutes to my drive, but I don’t care.
A group of kids playing catch in their front yard makes me flinch.
I turn up my music to drown out the distinctive crack of their aluminum bat hitting the ball.