Ocean and The Cee 1/?
Ocean's grip on the cylindrical piece of wood tightened perceptibly as he shifted slightly to the left. This was his game, he reminded himself, his game to try and play and win. His personal bat(much more to him, and to other players he was sure, this wasn't just a bat, nor an extension of the arm. No, this was a sacred tool, a valued piece of equipment that would help him succeed. So much more than a bat, so much more.) was being loosely held, although that was simply an illusion of nonchalance he wasn't currently feeling-- a trick to relax the opposing team(and himself, though he would rather not even begin to ponder that) into a false state of relaxation.
It was science, this game was- it was unintentional planning and organization. There was a nearly unperceived dance players did, like the way political campaigns do, the team conspired and fought for the win- only they were trying to fool and con each other, not the people of the world.
He gripped the bat a bit tighter and he was sure his blue eyes(same color as the ocean, he had heard more than once, all the voices laced with irony) were oddly blank- his calculations and plans were shoved to the back of mind as instinct took over, but they were never forgotten, instead they were incorporated into that which he did best, hit the ball with a bat(one of the most over-simplified and understated things in my life, Ocean thought).
The splinter of wood onto the ball was as familiar as the taste of water and as exhilarating as a roller coaster. The duality and contrast was part of what made the game to precious to Ocean- the familiarity of the actions, one he had practiced many times before, and the foreign edge of competition and a completely new pitcher.
After the ball hit, Ocean didn't wait to see how far it went, no matter how much he wishes he could(seeing his ball((the by-product of his effort)) fly over the crowds and soar through the sky is much how he believes plane engineers feel when they finally see their idea that was once simply paper realized into a real object, although he's never designed a plane, nor does he ever plane to.)
While he's running he feels like he should be a blur of white and blue(their schools colors) and tan and sand(he's always been built slim and tall with seemingly automatically tanned skin and 'sandy' hair, another unwanted pun on his name.) to the spectators, and on some levels he knows his perception and theirs are completely different at the moment, while the less-rational adrenaline-fueled side refuses to believe he's going anything less than a 100 miles per hour.
He makes a home-run, although it doesn't really register, and neither does the rest of the game, although he's almost positive he played out-field. The game ends and they've won(that does register, it always does) and there's hugging and cheering and time still seems to move in fast-forward.
Eventually they dispel and go to their family in the stands, and Ocean looks around and because everything is still in a dream-like state, he thinks maybe, this once, his mom is there.
Conscience(his younger best friend, who is dark-haired, green-eyed a thousand more times intelligent than he'll ever be) is in the crowds, as he always is, and his mother is absent, as she always is(Of course, the cynical, rational, realistic part of him sneers, She's never here, you don't even have the right to be disappointed. And he supposed this time that part of him is right-- but this is also the part of him that tries to stop him from dreaming, the side of him that tells the other half that they're not going 100 miles per hour, this is the side that tries to explain what impossible is.)
Conscience materializes at his shoulder and his doubts and cynical ponderings seem to slither out of him, reminding him violently about themselves, before vanishing completely. He has Conscience to thank for this, who is realistic and rational(though never cynical) enough for the both of them, and when he's with his best friend, he's the dreamer and there's enough hope for the both of them as well.
-
There's an after party and Ocean eventually decides he'll attend, although he never feels quite the companionship he seems to while he's playing on the field with them(he supposes this is because he's always hanging out with, as his team likes to call him when they think Ocean can't hear, the SERIOUS BUSINESS baby. He's almost tempted to ask why the emphasis the first two words so much- but there's no way to monitor rumors about oneself if the ridiculously unsubtle water-cooler disbands.)
His team is quite the motley crew once they're inside the buffet style restaurant, he wonders if this is because of the adrenaline from playing, the thrill from winning, or simply because they're all teenage boys.
He glances at Conscience, who, judging by the unsurprised but slightly disgusted look is voting for the latter. He understands Conscience's general disgusted look, but at the same time he feels a stab of protectiveness, because this is his team. He also had the reminder that he should being feeling resentful, thougt the inability to because it's Conscience and his emotions gave up trying to harbor any negative feelings toward the dark-haired boy long ago.
-
The whole night he's charming, witty and funny-- there's an easy smile on his face while he talks with Doug and Ryan, and the whole time he's silently communicating with Conscience, and it's not long before he's struggling to not let a real smile shine through.
When they finally leave it's lots of “Oh, man!” and “Stay a few more minutes, bro!” and Ocean's personal favorite “Shame to see you leave, Oce.” Because shame just never seems to fit, and it's a bit amusing. Honestly, why in the world would it be shameful for them to leave? His mother had once accused him of not having any pride, when he explained it was shame he lacked, she grew infuriated with him and stormed out of the house, and he nor Conscience never really understood why. They guessed it was because of what the neighbors would think(?) Which was his mother's favorite phrase to use.
What would the neighbors think if they knew you got in a fight?(Rex Taylor had insulted Conscience early in the duo's friendship. It hadn't bothered Conscience even remotely, but Ocean has swung the punch without even thinking about it.)
Ocean, what in the world do you think the neighbors would think if they saw you with That Boy?
(Conscience warranted himself another capital letter title.)
What will the neighbors think when they see you moping about? It's sad, but cry in private, we have a reputation to uphold, young man. (This was a week after Ocean's father died. She had actually apologized for this one, nearly 3 days later.)
They don't even acknowledge Conscience, and it bothers Ocean a bit, but doesn't seem to faze Conscience so he ignores the uneasiness for now.
They go to Ocean's house(it's always his house, never Conscience's. Conscience's house is where he gets those bruises they try not to talk about, and it's where whenever Conscience comes back from he seems dull and pained) and his mom is home, asleep. So it wasn't that she had to work, and couldn't make it, it was that she didn't remember or possibly that she just didn't care.
That stings a little bit, and he stares at her door- closed meaning she's home. He tries to keep his face blank, because no matter how much shame he seems to lack there's more than enough pride to replace it.
Conscience is standing silently at his side, an ever-present rock, there to protect him from hurt and the sting of negligence.
-
Ocean's 14 now, and it's been 6 years since he met Conscience. Coincidentally, it was that same year that he started playing baseball. He thought good things were supposed to come in 3, but he supposes he'll take what he can get.
Ocean was thin and tall for his age. He had his trademark sandy hair and his trademark blue eyes and he was a loud kid. It was currently recess in the school, a social time, as he was told.
The Cool Kids(who also warrant their own capital title, though ridiculously different than Conscience's) had told him that thought he was pretty awesome.
Ocean was practically glowing at the compliment. He felt as though he would do anything to let him join their group. So, when they told him to go steal some baby's lunch, he agreed to do it without hesitating.
He eventually decides on a skinny black-haired kid who sitting alone. He approaches the small figure, and rudely demands for his lunch.
The baby looks up at him. “I don't have any.” he says and holds up his obviously empty hands, by way of explanation. Ocean frowned.
“Oh, than you can have some of mine!” he volunteered.
During their first conversation the younger child had gone from a baby, to a kid, to Clarence to Conscience. (Clarence had said he hated his name, early in their first conversation. They started playing cops and robbers and Ocean was the detective who needed a conscience. That was how he got his name.)
He had lied and told Conscience he played baseball(which Conscience(whom at the time was still the kid, thought was cool and impressive.) and when he had got home that day, he frantically told his parents he wanted to play baseball. His father had told him it was a good choice, and his mother agreed. That night had been peaceful and calm, and he never has regretted joining since then.
-
It's the third game in the season and he did marvelously the first two and tanked this one. His mother hasn't shown up for any- and he's actually relieved she's not here for this. After being sent to the bench(his pride had been hurt. H wondered if shame was simply hurt pride, or if it truly was beyond his emotional capabilities.) he had moped around and his team had lost miserably.
They had no after party that day, so instead he was sitting on the floor next to Conscience, who was leafing through a book. Ocean was rambling now, about the bench and shame and pride- somehow he lets it slip out that he thinks he messed up because, well, what was the point in winning if no one is proud of you?
Conscience looks up sharply and slams his book down. Ocean is immediately silent, staring at Conscience's deadly calm look.
“Ocean,” Conscience begins, and his voice is full of compassion and frustration “I was so proud of you. I thought you knew that, even today, I was so proud of you. Your team is as well”
And an instant later Conscience is back to reading his book and Ocean feels like that may have been a hallucination, but he couldn't manufacture the warmth in his chest.
And the next day at practice, everyone is ribbing on him, but they're also concerned and tell him he better not screw up next; only it's marred by the amusement in their eyes.
Ocean thought back to how he gained baseball and Conscience at the same time, and thinks, well he just might have possibly gained more than one good thing.
(A/N:This is rather confusing, I know, but I'm kind of fond of this piece.)