Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection (17 page)

I’m not sure why I’m so on today. Why can't any of the
College of Charleston players hit against me? It's like I'm unstoppable, and I'm
not even trying that hard. I don't even want to play. It was a last-minute
addition to our schedule. I had my day with Reyna all planned when Coach called
me in his office yesterday afternoon and told me I would be pitching.

At the beginning of the game, I just wanted it to be over as
soon as possible. That was why I kept throwing strike after strike. But by the
bottom of the fourth, when no one had made it on base, I started hearing
whisperings of a perfect game. And now, I start to feel the pressure of the
possible perfect game.

I lean my head back and close my eyes, trying to drown out
all the sounds of the cheering fans, the crack of the ball against the bat,
even the sound of cleats on grass. These are sounds that I usually love. But
today, I just want it to be over. I have to get to Reyna. I can't let her down
again… I shudder at the thought of the last time I’d let her down.

Seventh Grade Dance

I'm not in love with Reyna. At least, that's what I've been telling
myself for the past five years. Even though she was my first kiss due to a
little playground experiment in the sixth grade, and even though she was the
only person who actually knew me…the real me, I loved her like a friend and
nothing more. Or so I thought.

I thought taking her to the seventh grade dance would be no
big deal. But if she was only a friend to me, why was it so hard to ask her to
go to the dance in the first place? Why did my palms get sweatier than a pork
chop wrapped in plastic on a porch every time I thought about asking her? Why
did it take me two days to gather up the courage? And why did my heart nearly
stop when she took a deep breath and blew out her cheeks after I finally did?
While I stared at her with her cheeks puffed out, I knew she was searching for
that tingle in her stomach. She always looked for some feeling or sign from La
Cienega in order to know whether to do something or not. I sure hoped La
Cienega wasn't taking a nap or something and would send her the sign she
needed.

Truth is, I wanted to feel that tingle too. The last time
I'd felt it was when we’d kissed on the playground the year before. We'd never
tried anything else since. Reyna was so convinced I liked Amanda and not her. I
don't know why I never corrected her. Maybe this would be my chance. Maybe I would
get to kiss her at the seventh grade dance and if I felt that tingle again, I
would know. I’d know for sure she was the one.

Instead of responding with a simple yes or no, Reyna said,
"Are you sure, Scottie?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I want to take you to the dance."

She sighed and said, "Does your mother know?"

My mother. Samantha Kincaid. She was a like gale force wind
of hate and irrationality. The only time I ever spoke to her was about sports.
Even in the seventh grade I knew not to give Sam too many details about my
personal life. She would just find a away to criticize me.

"Yeah, sure, she knows," I lied. Of course my
mother didn't know. If she knew I was contemplating going to a dance with a
black person, she'd probably pack me up and ship me off to some sort of
ridiculous and unnecessary sport camp until I changed my mind. She'd done it
before. When I told her I wanted to quit track for baseball, she sent me to a
sprinting camp in Oregon. I didn't even know there was such a thing as a
sprinting camp. Anyway, I didn't change my mind. And when she saw how fast I
could pitch, she was the one who cleared off a space in our trophy room for my
future baseball trophies.

Reyna smiled and said, "Okay, let's go." It was
the happiest I'd ever seen her. She almost skipped off to her next class.

But things didn't go as planned. The dance never happened.

I remember getting Coach to help me rent a tuxedo. That was
something Sam would never agree to, so I knew not to even ask. The most formal
piece of clothing she owned was a pair of running shoes my little brother Stu
spilled glitter on.

The night of the dance, I put on the suit and held Reyna's
corsage in my hand as I stared in the mirror. I looked like a complete dork.
What other seventh grade boy would wear a tuxedo? Most of the other boys didn't
even have real dates. They were just planning on showing up and hanging against
the wall for most of the night. I was making too big of a deal about this.
Reyna would think I was crazy.

I quickly stripped, threw on a pair of khakis, a Carolina
Panthers jersey, and the tuxedo jacket. I stared at myself in the mirror again.
I looked pretty good, if I do say so myself.

Next it was time to get Sam to take me to school. Unfortunately,
I was only thirteen, which meant no wheels. Sam still held a lot of power over
my life. If I was sixteen and had my own car, I would have just driven myself.
I would have snuck out the window if I had to. But at this age, I needed her
permission.

"Can you give me a ride to school?" I asked Sam as
she sat on the couch watching a game on ESPN.

"School? Why do you want to go to school? It's Thursday
night," she said without taking her eyes off the television. She was
watching Duke play and wanted to make sure they lost. She hated Duke. They
rejected her college application because the fact that she could run a
four-minute mile didn't outshine her lackluster grades. Sixteen years later,
she was still holding a grudge.

"There's a dance tonight. I want to go." I was way
too innocent back then. I should have concocted some story about a mandatory
basketball practice or something, but I never expected the evening to proceed
as it did.

Sam tore her eyes away from the television and looked me up
and down. "You look ridiculous," she said before turning her
attention back to the TV.

I sighed. "Mom, are you gonna take me or not?"

"Six minutes on the clock. Just wait ‘til the end of
the game." She waved me off.

In a basketball game, I knew six minutes on the clock could
very well be fifteen or twenty actual minutes. I went upstairs to obsess over
my look for another twenty minutes.

When the game was over, I went back down. "Can we go
now?" I asked her.

She was in the kitchen making one of her God-awful protein
smoothies. The way she angrily slammed cabinets shut, I knew Duke must have
won. She was in a really bad mood. "You're not going anywhere,
Scott."

"Why not?"

"I did some research. Made some calls. You're going
with Reyna Lewis?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Unacceptable."

"Why?" I asked, completely in shock. How had she
found out about Reyna? I bet she called Coach. Sam was a pro at spying on me. I
should have told him not to tell her anything in case she asked.

"Don't be stupid, Scott. She's a gold-digging whore.
All she wants is your money." This was typical Sam speak. She had this
idea in her head that I was worth millions in future sports
contracts
.

"I don't have any money, Sam. I'm only thirteen. She's
my friend. She's my best friend. I promised her."

Sam turned on the blender. She probably didn't hear a word
I’d said. When she finally turned off the blender, I repeated myself but she
didn't care. She poured two glasses and sat down at the table.

"Sit," she said, placing a glass of the disgusting
protein junk in front of me. "Drink that. Then we're going for a
run."

"No, we're not. I'm going to the dance."

"The hell you are. Dating a girl like Reyna could ruin
your persona and irreparably damage your future earning potential. It's out of
the question. Drink."

Tears stung in my eyes. I absolutely refused to let her see
me cry. To avoid an onslaught of tears, I chugged the protein drink just to
distract my emotions. When I finished, she proceeded to lecture me about my
responsibilities as a future professional athlete and how I had to lay the
groundwork now in order to have a successful future. An hour later, we went for
a run and I never made it to that dance.

The next morning at school, I waited for Reyna by her
locker. She took one look at me and then chose a different route to her first
class. She could avoid me for first period, since we were in different math
classes. But she'd have to talk to me in English.

All through first period, I rehearsed what I would say. I
had to figure out something to tell her that would make her forgive me. That
something didn't include what my insane mother had said. I thought she’d be
even more hurt if she knew how my mother felt about her.

So instead, as soon as she entered English class, I said,
"I'm so sorry, Rey. I got caught up playing video games and totally lost
track of time."

She stared at me incredulously. "Video games?"

I nodded.

"Which one?" She crossed her arms and stared at
me.

She knew I was lying. She had to. I was such a bad liar and
she knew me so well I wouldn't be able to lie to her if I'd planned it for
weeks. She was sure to see through this last-minute fib.

"Grand Theft Auto," I said, naming the first game
I could think of.

She raised an eyebrow. "Grand Theft Auto? You hate
Grand Theft Auto. You say it's depressing."

She was right about that. We'd had a conversation about it
almost a year ago. How did she remember things like that? She’d caught me lying
and I had no idea what to say. Instead, I just stood there with my mouth
hanging open.

Reyna rolled her eyes and stormed off to the other side of
the room, away from the seat next to mine where she always sat.

Before sitting down, I went and placed her corsage on her
desk. "I really am sorry, Rey," I said before taking my seat.

I spent the entire class period staring at Reyna as she
stared at that red hibiscus. The flower was actually called La Flor Maga and
was the national flower of Puerto Rico. I had to have it specially ordered.

Reyna continued to avoid me for the next two periods. But at
lunchtime, she sat down in front of me and said three little words that I’d
been waiting for all day. "I forgive you."

And that was that. We never spoke of it again.

Top of the eighth

It is now 5:15. I check on the watch Reyna gave me for my
14th birthday almost three years ago. The sun is scheduled to set at 7:43 pm
tonight. I know because I checked about thirty-five times that morning. Her
surprise is located an hour away by boat. If the game ends in the next twenty
minutes, I'll still have time to shower, change, pick up Rey and get her to the
special spot before sunset. That is, if there’s no traffic. There’s always
traffic. I’m running out of time and options. I’m beginning to panic.

This day is such an important day in Reyna's life. I have to
be there for her. I just have to. If this game doesn't end in twenty minutes,
I'm going to have a very difficult decision to make.

I take my stance and get ready to throw out the first pitch
of the eighth inning.

The Surprise

Ten years ago today, Reyna's mother died. Usually, she and her father
try to make it back to Puerto Rico to visit her grave, but this year they
couldn't. Her father had to travel to Florida to take care of his sick mother,
and he didn't want Reyna leaving the country on her own.

I think it’s sad how most people feel spring is a time of
rebirth and new beginnings, but for Reyna it will always be a time of loss and
mourning. That's why she wasn't at the game. She was probably sitting alone in
her room, trying her best to feel La Cienega's smile.

When I looked in the sky and noted the hour, I dashed to the
locker room faster than a cheetah on roller skates. I know my teammates think
I’m odd, but I have someplace to be. I have a promise to keep.

After the quickest shower ever, I hop into my Jeep and speed
over to Reyna's house. Her front door is locked, so I scale the wall and look
into her bedroom window. Just like I thought, she’s lying on her bed when I
arrive.

"What are you doing here?" she asks as she opens
the window and helps me in. "How was the game?"

"Don't worry about the game," I say as I climb
through. I fold her into my arms. She knows why I'm there and it makes her
start to cry softly. I want to tell her that no game could mean to me as much
as she does, but I don't know if that’ll make her cry even more. So I just hold
her and let her cry. I know she isn't really crying over a baseball game
anyway.

When she calms down somewhat, I say, "Let's go. It's
time for your surprise."

"What? You're still doing that?" she asked, wiping
away tears. "I thought because of the game you would cancel."

"Nope, we're still on. Get your stuff."

"What kind of surprise is it? Where are we going?"

"Well, if I told you that, it wouldn't be much of a
surprise, now would it?"

She smiles and mumbles something in Spanish. I’m just about to
ask her what she said when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I take a deep breath,
hoping it isn't my mother. Unfortunately, it’s worse.

"Who is it?" Reyna asked.

"Kimmie."

"Yeah, Kimmie. Your
girlfriend
, remember? Do you have plans with
her tonight? Maybe we can do this surprise thing later."

Technically, Kimmie
is
my girlfriend. At least, I think she is. I
honestly think she broke up with me last week. But that could have been Karly.
I have trouble keeping girls’ names straight sometimes.

I always thought the term ‘girlfriend’ was kind of odd in my
situation. None of those girls are really my friend. I mean, most of them
didn't know the difference between a strike and a touchdown. Reyna is my only
real friend who is a girl. Actually, she’s probably my only real friend,
besides my brother. But for some reason, we’ve never dated. None of my
relationships ever have happily ever afters. Maybe I’m too afraid to ruin what
Rey and I have to try something more with her.