Do Not Fall For The Baseball Captains novel Chapter 56

Afferom Dugout

A Different Dugout

Victoria’s POV

“Miss Rhodes, it seems you have somewhere more important to be than your own senior design review.”

Professor Harrison’s dry voice snapped me right back to the small office.

My hand immediately pulled away from the strap of my bag, and I felt a hot flush of embarrassment hit my neck.

I had been caught staring at the wall clock above his bookshelf for the fourth time in

ten minutes.

The game was starting in less than half an hour. I desperately needed to be out on those bleachers for Elijah and the rest of the heathen boys, but I was currently trapped behind a massive oak desk covered in bridge stress analysis models.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” I mumbled, pulling my hands into my lap.

Fortunately, the review finally came to a close a few minutes later. As I began

gathering my scattered blueprints and stacking them neatly into my binder, Professor Harrison tapped his pen against the desk, signaling for me to pause.

“Victoria, stay for just a moment, please.”

I held my breath, letting my binder rest on my knees as the office door clicked shut behind the other students.

Professor Harrison leaned back in his leather chair, looking at me through his thick spectacles with a expression that was entirely fatherly and grave.

“You’ve been one of the most exceptional students in this department since your freshman year,” he began, his voice softening.

“You have a remarkably bright future ahead of you, and you’re at the very final stretch. That’s why I’m telling you this as someone who wants to see you succeed–do not get distracted right now.”

I blinked, slightly caught off guard. “Distracted, sir?”

He sighed, gesturing vaguely toward the window that faced the field.

“I can see you’ve been spending time with the school’s… well.” He trailed off for a second, rubbing his temples. “Elijah Carter. The baseball star and the new team captain, correct?”

My heart flipped, but I kept my face entirely still.

“I know how it goes,” Harrison continued with a small, weary sigh. “He’s at the top of his department, he’s exceptionally bright, he’s handsome, popular, rich… you’re a

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young adult, and it’s perfectly natural to want to enjoy the campus experience. But please, Victoria, don’t let anyone or anything ruin what you’ve spent years working for. Protect your focus.”

The genuine worry in his eyes completely disarmed me.

I offered him a warm, reassuring smile, tightening my grip on my binder.

“I won’t let anything get in the way of my degree, Professor. I promise you,” I said honestly.

He looked at me for another second before his features relaxed into a smile.

“Good. I trust you. Go on, get out of here.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I practically leaped out of my chair and dashed toward the door.

“Don’t forget the revised deadline for the structural foundation report on Monday morning!” he yelled after me as I reached the hallway.

“I won’t!” I shouted back over my shoulder, picking up my pace.

Nova was waiting for me right by the exit doors, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet with her phone already in her hand.

“Finally! Come on, let’s go, the bleachers are already packed!”

We fell into a fast jog together, heading down the brick pathway toward the main

baseball stadium.

The distant roar of the crowd was already echoing across the quad, a booming mix of school spirit and loudspeaker announcements that made the air feel completely charged.

As we approached the entrance gates, the crowd naturally split.

Nova stopped by the edge of the lower bleachers, her eyes automatically searching the outfield where the warm–up lines were forming.

“I’m going to grab a spot down by the left field,” Nova said, her face lighting up with a bright, beautiful excitement. “We’ll meet up right by the dugouts as soon as the game ends, okay?”

“Deal!”

Watching her walk away, a sudden, heavy pang of guilt and sadness twisted in my stomach. It broke my heart simply because I knew exactly what it felt like to have your entire heart set on someone who would never truly see you–and it was the exact same boy.

Since high school, I had always been right there on that exact side of the bleachers, occupying the front row of Caleb’s fan section, wearing his numbers and losing my

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fferent Dugout

voice for him.

But today, Nova was walking into that space, completely taking over the spot that used to be mine.

Instead of reclaiming my usual seat, I was turning my back on the outfield entirely, navigating the crowded stairs of the primary infield section to focus on Elijah. It was a strange realization that an entire chapter of my life had officially shifted.

I climbed the crowded stairs of the bleachers, my eyes scanning the rows of metal benches for any sliver of open space.

I walked right past the middle tier, making a huge mistake by not looking ahead. Several heads turned toward me instantly, and the easy chatter among them died down.

It was replaced by a sudden, venomous shift in the air as I realized I was standing directly in front of Amelia and her usual circle of sorority friends.

Within seconds, the whispers started, perfectly pitched so that every single word carried over the ambient noise of the crowd.

“I thought she used to belong to Caleb Ashfield?” one girl murmured, leaning her head close to Amelia’s shoulder while staring right at me. “I distinctly remember her hanging around his dugout last season.”

Amelia let out a dry, nasty little scoff, her eyes scanning my clothes with absolute

hatred.

“It’s not a new thing. She’s a whore. She disguises herself under that studious, boring scholarship persona while she systematically fucks her way through the entire sports team. I wonder who her next target is after she’s done with Carter. Maybe Miles, or Leo Foster? She’s clearly trying to collect the entire heathen boys group.”

Their awful comments made my stomach drop. I stood completely frozen in the middle of the concrete aisle, a sick, hollow sensation opening up in the center of my

chest.

My face burned with a terrible mix of humiliation and anger, and I gripped my bag tightly, completely unsure of where to go or how to react without making a scene in front of hundreds of people.

“You shouldn’t pay those little bitches a single drop of your mind.”

A new voice, smooth and entirely confident, cut through the noise from a few rows down.

I snapped my head around to see an incredibly beautiful girl sitting a few feet away on the aluminum bench.

I recognized her immediately–she was one of the prominent fixtures in the campus

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offerent Dugout

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