Third Base (The Boys of Summer Book 1) (17 page)

“Do you have plans tonight?” Kidd asks, as he stands next to me in nothing but a towel around his waist, which he is holding together with his thumb and forefinger.

I shake my head and pull off my shirt, tossing it in the laundry bucket. “Sleep.”

“With your girl?” he waggles his eyebrows, and steps away before I can punch him in the shoulder.

“No. I have class tomorrow. I thought it’d be best if I showed up without any bags under my eyes.”

“Man, I can’t believe Stone is making you take media classes.”

“Yeah well, when you tweet out your address like a fool, management starts to wonder how fucking smart you are. Clearly, I’m an idiot.”

“You said it, not me.” He says as he slaps my back. “What are you going to do about your girl back home?” he asks as he waits for me to head to the showers.

“What do you mean?” Truth is, I haven’t even thought about Sarah for a few days, especially after my epic date with Daisy. She’s been the only one on my mind and between the phone calls, texts and seeing her for a few minutes after the game; she’s all I’ve had time to think about.

“Don’t you have, like, a standing hook-up deal?”

His words cause me to freeze. My mother knows about Daisy, but I’m sure Sarah hasn’t read up on it, or saw us online because she’s busy training to become a doctor. Sarah will be expecting to hang out. I’m now in a situation where I don’t know what to do. Any other time, it didn’t matter because I haven’t had a girlfriend since Sarah. Do I call Daisy my girlfriend? Do I give her that label?

If it were anyone but Kidd asking me the question, I’d dodge it, but he’s my best friend. “I don’t know,” I say as I head toward the showers, hoping that the hot water will provide the answer to my upcoming conundrum.

Even after a valiant effort by Preston Meyers and Ethan Davenport, the Renegades came up short against the Yankees, dropping all three of their home games to them with a cumulative nine to fifteen in the runs category. It wasn’t until Sunday’s game that the Renegades were able to get their bats swinging and break out of the two run hold the Yankees had them in by putting five up on the board.

Branch Singleton tried to make the Yankees pay, going deep each time at bat, but the acrobatic skills of the Yankees’ outfielders proved to be too much for Singleton’s long ball game. Better luck next time.

The Tampa Bay Devil Rays are in town for three games followed by an off day.

Thursday, the Renegades will be doing arts and crafts with their littlest fans at Beth Israel Hospital. Sorry adult fans, you must be under eighteen and kicking Cancer’s ass to be a part of this.

On the minor league front, Cooper Bailey hit for the cycle yesterday, paving his way to move up. Even if Bainbridge stays, the front office can’t afford to keep Bailey in the minors. He’ll be demanding a trade before too long. GM Stone needs to make a move... and soon.

Gossip Wire

Ethan Davenport is heading to media training. I guess we now know why he hasn’t given any interviews before or after the games. Apparently, the pretty face can only get you so far and Mr. Davenport will be learning how to speak, act and socialize on television when he takes a two section – not course – at the University of Boston – the same school his current flavor of the month attends. I wonder if they’ll car pool?

There’s still no word on why Cal Diamond has been spotted at the Cancer clinic. Once we find out, we’ll update you.

Bryce Mackenzie is making it official with his girlfriend, model turned designer, Gabby Nolan. He popped the question two weeks ago when she came into town and tonight she was spotted with a four-carat princess cut diamond ring on her finger. I guess the rumors about her and pro-Tennis player, Ralph Amato, is just that – rumors!

The Bainbridge’s were seen heading into marriage counseling. By all accounts, Steve looked like he didn’t want to be there when caught by a photographer being pulled into the building by his wife. She’s gotta hang onto the money!

The BoRe Blogger

F
reshman year I was that eager student who signed up for eight a.m. classes because I thought it’d be best to get my day over sooner, even after my six a.m. workouts. That lasted exactly one week until I was groggily dragging my ass out of bed and barely making it to class. “Naps” became my favorite four-lettered word, and a shower turned into something I had to schedule. Second semester I planned a little better, but by the time I was a sophomore, I refused to take any class that started before eleven. The six a.m.’s never went away, but that nap right after my workout was the best part of my day.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been uncharacteristically getting up early so I can spend time with Daisy. The minute my alarm would sound, I’d hop out of bed, shower, shave, get dressed and leave with a damn smile on my face. Today is different. Now, as my alarm is buzzing, my pillow is once again being held to my face by my forearm as I pray that the noise will stop and I can fall back to sleep. Even knowing that I’m about to see Daisy, the knowledge doesn’t rouse my sleeping body. The fact that I have to go to school – a place I’ve already graduated from – is keeping me in bed. The mere mention of class and my body is tired and exhausted even though I got plenty of sleep last night.

I roll over with a groan and slam my hand down on the clock, silencing it before it makes my ears bleed. I let out a cough and quickly convince myself that I have a cold and there is no possible way I can make it to class. It would be unfair of me to infect the student body with any illness.

Reaching for my phone, I rise up on my elbows and type out a text to Daisy.

I have a cold. Can’t go to class.

The conversation bubble pops up immediately making me smile. I know she wasn’t waiting for my text, but the fact that she stopped what she was doing to reply means the world to me.

Daisy Robinson: Well that sucks. I thought we could make out behind one of the dorms today.

My eyes bug out at her text message and sure enough my happy stick likes the idea of making out with her, although not in public.

I’m feeling better

I type back and send before it dawns on me that she just played me. I’m slow to get out of bed, and contemplate going to class looking like the quintessential college kid. No one would really care. Chicks dig the messy, I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-look on guys just as much as dudes like the I-just-got-fucked-look on a chick.

Each step I take on my way to the bathroom has me thinking of another excuse as to why I should stay home. I don’t know why I’m being such a baby about taking this class - it’s only for two weeks, two hours a day... and half the time I’ll be on the road. But, I’ll be on campus with Daisy and I think that’s what’s scaring me. I don’t want her to get sick of me because I’m around too much, or worse, act like we aren’t seeing each other to avoid scrutiny in the press, even though everyone knows we’ve been hanging out. The BoRe Blogger made that public for us.

My hair is an unruly mess and standing on end. I run my hands under the water and through my hair but nothing changes. It’s definitely a hat day for me. I finish up the rest of my necessary morning crap in the bathroom before slipping on a pair of sweats with a Nike t-shirt and shoes. The ladies in the front office of the Renegades were gracious enough to buy me a few school supplies which I gather up before heading out the door. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind that I would need a pen and paper.

The drive over to the University takes longer than I had planned and once I find a parking spot that seems far enough away to be in another country, I’m running to class with a map in my hands like a lost freshman. “Official Nerd Alert” should be flashing across my chest right now. I enter what I hope is my class, out of breath and with 100 or so eyes staring at me. There’s clear recognition of who I am as eyes go wide, mouths drop and the eager whispers and texting starts.

“Mr. Davenport, it’s so nice of you to join us,” the professor so nicely announces, pointing out that I’m late. I nod in his direction and take the first available seat, which happens to be between two girls, both brunette and both watching my every move.

They lean toward me in unison as I get comfortable and the one on my right hands me the paperwork that I need.

“Thanks,” I mumble, keeping my eyes focused on the professor.

“You’re welcome, Ethan,” she says dreamily, which really makes me uncomfortable. I’m used to this kind of attention, but something about her and her friend on my left seems odd. I can’t put my finger on it. Tomorrow, I’m going to have to be early so I can pick another seat and maybe pay some dudes to sit next to me.

“Social media is a powerful tool,” the professor starts. “It can be used for just about everything. Many people announce their engagements, the birth of a child, or when they’re in a relationship. It can also be used for bad news, like when you change a relationship status from ‘in a relationship’ to ‘it’s complicated’. Most of you don’t realize that it wasn’t
that
complicated until you made it such on social media.”

He has a good point. When Sarah and I decided to part ways, she changed her relationship status from “in a relationship” to “single” and her friends posted that I was a jerk, an asshole, and that she could do better. She spent hours defending me, saying that our break-up had been mutual, and that we were still very good friends, just going in different directions in life. We, collectively, had decided it’d be best to part while happy with each other instead of fighting. We didn’t want to end up hating each other.

“Social media is also an avenue for awareness, such as an accident on the route you usually drive, or for a fundraiser. What a lot of people don’t realize is that media and social media are the same thing with the only difference being live footage. For example: I can go on live television and give an interview. Someone sitting at home with nothing to do can take bits and pieces from said interview and mash them together creating something new and the exact opposite of what I actually said during my live interview and post it on social media. My interview has now gone from media to social media. Sadly, this cannot be prevented, but what can happen to prevent this type of thing from happening is for people to utilize their social media pages for the positive. Direct them to the correct interview, even if it’s not yours.”

As I look around, everyone is either typing on their computers, or hand writing notes. I’m doing neither because I thought this class was going to prepare me for what I need to say to the media and what not to post on social media. I don’t care about interviews gone badly – that shit happens all the time – which is why I’m here. The Renegades want to prevent me from putting my foot in my mouth or being labeled stupid due to nerves.