Bush League: New Adult Sports Romance (15 page)

Quin
n

                                                        *****

At no point in all this studying do I feel confident I understand any of it. All of the hours I've spent deep in these books and I feel like I've barely retained any of it. The clock keeps moving though and soon I'm going to have to put pen to paper whether I'm ready or not. As good as my discipline has been as of late, I'm still happy when my phone rings and provides a brief distraction. It's Becca and she's excited for the audition she helped set up for me.

"Yeah...about that," I start and I know she can already tell where this is headed.

"Cool," she says into the phone, not doing a good job in hiding her disappointment. "Just to be clear though, this isn't an opportunity that's ever going to come up again. Like, you can go to college whenever but getting a top tier audition with American Superstar...you'll probably never have the chance again."

"I know, Becca," I assure her.

"Cool. Well, good luck then with doing whatever," she tells me before hanging up. Returning to the books doesn't seem very enticing so I decide to run the only errand I have before the test: picking up my car from the mechanic. Knowing the hefty bill I'm about to be faced with, I'm forced to skip a cab and face the injustice of the bus, my book with me in case I feel inspired to try and cram in more of this stuff.

I'm not sure what kind of deal my father thought he was securing by having his friend do the repairs but I'm soon told by his pal that the something or other needed to be replaced and it is going to eat what's left of my savings. There is no other option, I need my car and the new part has already been placed inside. I'm directed to a little booth where I can go pay and it takes all of my strength to hand over my debit card. The woman sitting at the payment booth is cheerful and nice, tag says her name is 'Susan'.

"And how are you doing today?" she asks and I bite my tongue to prevent from telling her the honest truth. Her kind inquiry shouldn't be rewarded with my unloading my heap of problems.

"Fine," I tell her with a forced smile as she types away on her keyboard. I look around her little cubicle and can't miss all the framed pictures she has set up, pictures of her on a stage, of her getting an award and a few playbills hanging next to them. Susan seems way too accomplished to be tucked away behind a desk in a mechanic's garage. Next I see her framed diploma proudly announcing her as a graduate of State.

"Oh hey," I speak up as she's typing. "I'm going to State now."

Susan looks up with another kind smile. "Great school, lots of fun."

When she returns to her typing, I can let it go. "Do you still act?" I ask and point towards one of her pictures. She turns to look at it herself, her smile falling a little when she returns to me.

"Nah, haven't in some time. After I got my degree, I went right to work and life just kind of got in the way."

"Do you miss it?" I ask though it's clear she does.

"Yeah but I needed to focus on starting my career.  Oh well, I got a good job and I'm very, very lucky." It's not clear if Susan is trying to assure me or convince herself that that is true. She hurries my transaction along and wishes me a great day. I've been served with another stiff dose of reality at a cost of only the rest of my savings.

*****

Bea
u

*****

Much to father's protest, I insist on taking my truck to the meeting and driving there separately. Before we go to our respective vehicles, he decides to leave me with some of his wisdom. "Good first impressions go a long way," he tells me as if that would be news. To him I'm not the star athlete, the feared pitcher; I'm his little boy that he's taking to a meeting.

In an effort to keep this all super secret, we're ushered in through a backdoor, just in case any school officials happen to be in the area of the hotel. The paranoia is justified because if anyone sent word of this to the right people, it could dismantle my career and financially impact the team for years to come. Father and I walk down the hallway and arrive outside a typical, nondescript hotel room. When the door opens, there are very important men in suits sitting at a table. They stand when I walk in and I immediately feel like nobody, someone who doesn't belong somewhere so important.

At no point do I feel comfortable with any of this. The secrecy adds to my guilt of ditching the team who in just an hour and a half will take the field and find I'm not there. Though I'm not usually one to feel guilt over doing something outside of the rules, this whole thing just feels underhanded and it's all in the name of securing me a couple extra bucks.

Father sits on the opposite side of the room as these men read off questions from some papers. Their suits are perfectly pressed and neither has a hair out of place. They're wanting to know what I do for fun, do I have a girlfriend, where do I see myself in five years. I can feel my father shifting in his seat as I answer and pivot my responses until he settles down so I know I'm answering the way I'm supposed to. The men in suits have to know at least some of what's coming out of my mouth is bullshit, no doubt they've been down this road before with an overly invested parent. We just want the most money we can get and will say anything to get it.

These guys aren't so innocent themselves though, telling me all about how great things will be when I know for a fact that the second I'm not performing well, I'll get shipped off somewhere else. The younger of the two intrigues me the most, he keeps looking at who I assume is his boss, making sure he's saying the right things.

"We're just looking for a real team player, son," the younger one says and continues after getting a head nod from his boss. "That's how we do it in New York."

The boss-man seems pleased and decides to add on to his young charge's statement. "We're looking for someone who's loyal. Our reports tell us you're fiercely loyal to those on your side. Is this true?"

I can hear my father shift in his chair, hoping I'll answer the way he wants me to. The words are ready to fall out of my mouth, set to tell these men that I'm the most loyal motherfucker you'll ever meet. All I have to do is tell them that and I'll be set up in the New York farm system, my pro career finally within reach. My mouth opens on its own and I look the men straight in the eyes.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I say and stand up from my seat, desperate to get out of there. My father is in the difficult position of trying to maintain that everything is fine while at the same time urging me to get my head on straight. He's too composed to catch me as I storm out of the room like I'm on fire. I make it quite a bit down the hallway when I hear the hotel room door open again and my father whisper-shouting after me.

"Beau...Beau! Stop right there," he demands. Giving him the respect he demands I stop and wait for him, my lips pressed together ready to defend my decision. "What the hell is the matter with you? Do not blow this!"

I look at my father to beg him to remember the lessons he taught me so long ago. "Did you hear what they asked me?"

"Yeah," he says before fully thinking it over. "What's the problem?"

"They asked if I'm loyal," I explain and he doesn't understand. The smartest man I know is stumped by something so plainly obvious. "I want to be telling them the truth when I say yes."

When I turn to leave I can feel the anger radiating off of his body. I'm quite a few feet away from him when he calls out again. "Don't you leave! Don't you blow this! You're ruining your future!"

He's still yelling as I storm down the steps to the first floor, heading to the parking lot. Luckily my uniform is waiting for me in my truck and if I rush, I can get to the field in time.

*****

                                                        Quin
n

*****

One foot in the door of the classroom and I already feel like I'm being smothered. Something about this room prevents any air from circulating, the only cross-breeze coming from the whir of laptops positioned throughout the room. I'll forever associate certain equations with the feeling of sweat rolling down my forehead.

Though I wouldn't say I've made friends with many people in the class, there is a level of camaraderie among us upon reaching the end of this hard course. Discussion of grades never happens but I do get a sense from a few of them that this test weighs just as heavily on them as it does me. There's the nerdy / cute Josie who always seems ready for every test, looking tense as she twists in her seat. Mitchell is sitting next to her, trying to go over as many random problems as he can before the test is given out. I sit down right behind the two of them, hoping if I go down, we go down together.

"We are almost done," I state the obvious and receive polite smiles back. "You guys doing anything after the test to celebrate?"

Mitchell looks confused and Josie's eyes almost pop out of her head.

"Celebrate?" Mitchell asks. "How can we celebrate when we don't know our grades?"

"As soon as I'm done, I have an interview for an internship," Josie says.

It's clear I have to risk coming off as way too casual in an effort to prove that they need to relax.

"You guys need to take some time for yourselves or else you'll go crazy," I insist and wait for them to agree with me. They don't.

"Relax?" Mitchell asks. "I'll relax when my house is paid off and I guess my kids' college is paid for. I figure I'll be able to retire around seventy and then, that's when I'll sit on the beach all day."

Josie squirms in her seat. "How can you relax? Do you have a job set up yet? Do you even know what the job market is like for new grads?"

My blase attitude has come off as flippant and now these two think I'm stupid.

"What about hobbies? Do you guys do anything else but math?"

I'm not sure why they are willing to entertain my questions but I think these two haven't encountered someone like me in a long time. I'm fascinating to them.

"I used to dance when I was like, a kid," Josie says. "Then school and work happened and there's no time."

"I like building computers," Mitchell throws in. "If I can't find a job right away, I'll just work IT somewhere for a bit."

My blood runs a little cold but I can't stop. "What about dating? Are you two..." I ask while pointing between the two of them.

"Where are you finding all this free time? Dating? Like going out? For fun?" Josie may be believing she has met an alien or at least someone she definitely doesn't understand.

The teacher's aide walks in and summons our attention right away, clearing his throat and making noise with his stack of books until we quiet down.

"You have one hour to complete the exam," he tells us. "And the rest of your life to live by these numbers. Good luck."

My heart races as the aide walks around the room and drops a book off at each desk he passes. With each step he takes closer to me, I feel the panic inside growing stronger. It's time for fight or flight and I have no idea which to follow. Every desk he passes tells me I'm running out of time, like sitting on a roller coaster as it ascends the first big hill; it's only a matter of time before the big drop happens. My chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace as the aide is only two desks away, sweat now absolutely pouring off of my body. Closer...closer...

The exam booklet drops on my desk, a tiny blue packet waiting to be opened. My trembling hand finds the cover and is ready to open it and start the next chapter of my life. The cover feels like lead, too heavy to pull back so I summon all the strength I can and try to force it open before slamming it closed.

I'm sorry for the distraction I cause as the whole classroom takes a minute out of their test taking to watch me hurriedly collect my things and race for the door. I don't look back, don't apologize and I fly out of the room as quickly as I can. Nobody rushes to stop me and it's too late to change my mind and stop what I just put in motion.

*****