"I feel like the Sun is singling me out," Chris complained, readjusting his sunglasses as he stretched out on the bleachers. "It must be a thousand degrees out here." "More like 87," I said, with a laugh. "You're such a New Yorker." "What's that supposed to mean?" "There's no humidity," I informed him, reaching up and tightening my ponytail. "I don't think it's that bad out here." "You're bluffing." "I'm just more accustomed to the heat." Collin came out of the dugout, the team ready to take the field for the start of the game. "It's him you ought to feel bad for," I said to Chris, nodding towards Collin. "He's in a full baseball uniform, while you're over here in a tank top and shorts." "Well I could be in my air conditioned apartment, watching Netflix and grading papers," Chris d
