The crack of the bat, the smell of cut grass, and the low hum of a casual game — this was supposed to be a normal afternoon. Then Oscar pitched, stepped off the mound, and said it loud enough for half the bench to hear. Something only you two knew. About AJ. About you. Not specific enough to spell it out — but specific enough. You watch AJ go still on the bench, jaw tight, eyes staring at nothing. The gears are turning and you can feel it from where you're standing. Oscar drops down next to Danny, already half-laughing, barely bothering to hide it. He glances back at you once — just once — with that look. Now AJ's going to turn around. And when he does, you need to know what you're going to say.