Read Paige Rewritten for Free Online Page A

pocket. I smile. “Thanks, Tyler.”
    I rip off the wrapping paper, a little worried that it’s jewelry or something way beyond where I think we probably are in a semirelationship. I mean, we haven’t even defined anything yet.
    To me, that equals way too early for jewelry.
    I get the last of the wrapping paper off. It is a jewelry box. A blue velvety one.
    I look up at him and he grins cheekily. “Will you open it, slowpoke?”
    I bite the inside of my cheek and squeak the tiny box open.
    Two tickets are propped in the box, and I look up and squint at him. “You’re not telling me that you sleep on Red Sox sheets, are you?”
    â€œNo, but Fever Pitch was a great movie. Read the tickets, Paige.”
    â€œFrisco RoughRiders,” I read slowly and then look up at him. “It’s a rodeo?”
    â€œIt’s baseball, Paige. It’s the minor league team near here? Please tell me you’ve heard of baseball. Batter up? Home runs? Strikeouts? Hot dogs?”
    â€œEasy there, Tyler.” I hold up a hand. “I have heard of baseball.”
    â€œEver been to a game?”
    I nod. “My dad took me to a few when I was little.”
    Tyler beams at me. “Great! Then you know it’s tons of fun.”
    I just look at the tickets, at Tyler, and then nod, smiling. “Oh yes,” I say, closing the jewelry box. “Thanks, Tyler.”
    It’s not that I have something against baseball. Like I said, my dad is a huge baseball fan. I just like the freedom to wear my pajamas and change the channel to more important things like finding out what color cabinets the Kitchen Cousins are going to install on that episode while watching baseball. I’m not a fan of the whole go-to-the-park-and-eat-artificially-flavored-nachos thing.
    There is a place for artificial flavors. It is usually in cough drops.
    â€œWell, anyway, the tickets are actually gift certificates so we can go whenever it’s a good time for you,” Tyler says. “I mean, they play 140 games. I figure, surely we can find a time that works for the two of us one of those nights.”
    I suddenly feel very sorry for all of the wives and girlfriends of those players. That is a major time commitment for something that only serves to be entertainment while eating hot dogs.
    â€œSo, Tyler.” I drop the box into my purse, preparing to tell him all about Luke and Preslee. The Luke part will likely be awkward. Actually, so will the Preslee part because I haven’t shared very much of that with Tyler yet.
    Some things just shouldn’t be shared in detail for a little while.
    The waiter comes right then, and I stop while he situates our drinks and food on the table. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
    I barely hear him because I am distracted with the plate of steaming hot peaches, pooling peach syrup, and melting whipped cream all piled on top of four of the largest pancakes I’ve ever seen.
    This is much bigger than it was when I came here in college.
    Unless it is one of those perspective things like teenage drivers. When you are one, you and everyone else your age look very mature and capable. When you are older, all teen drivers look like they should still be in booster seats.
    Tyler whistles at my plate. “Now those are pancakes.”
    I glance up at his burrito and shake my head. The thing is larger than Tyler’s torso. And Tyler is not what I would call small-chested.
    â€œWhy don’t we pray? I’m worried now for our arteries.” Tyler grins.
    I fold my hands under the table to avoid the whole awkward “should we hold hands to pray yet?” thing, and Tyler says a quick prayer.
    â€œThank You, Lord, for this meal, for this day, and for the beautiful company. Please bless this year of Paige’s. Amen.”
    â€œAmen. And thank you,” I say, smiling up at him.
    â€œOkay. Let’s eat!” He grabs his fork.
    I take a