You hold your arms out, feet spread apart, ready to catch the ball. He throws, you dive, you faceplant. Ouch. He laughs grabbing the ball and watches you sit up. "Jeez, can't you even catch? I mean, I knew you were pretty weak, but this is embarrassing," He teases, holding out a hand and helping you up.

You brush the dirt off of you, though it doesn't bother you too much. You're a farmer, after all. You're ready to try again, determined. Though, this time the ball hits you right in the face. You stumble back, nose dripping blood. He sucks in air through his teeth and walks over, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Oh, shit man. I'm sorry. Here, come inside. I'll fix it," He says, though you're not so convinced he even knows what a bandaid is. He leads you inside. You're alone, which is unusual. His grandparents are out at George's clinic visit.

Alex sits you down on a chair in his room and hands you a tissue, which you shove up your nostril. "Don't tilt your head back, it makes the blood go down your throat. Learned that the hard way."