Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tate
After making love to my girl at the gym, I took her back home and promised to work on her car the next day. I slept like a rock and found my mother gone the next morning when I got up. Valentine's car wouldn't start or turn over, which was frustrating, but Jerry would let me borrow one of our two tow trucks to get it and haul it up to the shop.
I'd talked myself into putting school off for a while by the time I got to my first class that morning. The professor was teaching on something that I found interesting, and though I'd miss learning something new every other day, I'd deal with it.
Mom might have gotten a small raise, but we still needed more money at the house. The bills from the hospital would show up soon, and they were never cheap.
"Tate, a moment, please?" My psychology professor glanced up and smiled at me as everyone was packing up.
"Of course." I sat in my chair and waited patiently, though I knew I was going to be late to swim practice. I figured I'd go through the drill with the coach, do the practice, and then make the final call on whether I had the balls to give everything up.
For a while. Only for a while.
"Thanks for staying." The older man sat down next to me and tapped his knee. "Your paper on the mind of men was one of the best I've ever seen."
"Really?" I lifted my eyebrow as surprise ran through me. I'd enjoyed writing it more than I'd ever admit, but psych was always a subject of interest. I wanted to know what made people tick and why it was different from person to person.
"Yes. I'd like to submit it to our dean for review if you don't mind." He tapped his lips. "You're a business major, right?"
"Yes, Sir, but psychology is my minor." I wasn't sure where any of this was going, but I liked Dr. Barnes enough to sit there and listen.
"Would you ever consider changing it to be your major? I assume you have a year or two left, right?" He leaned back and turned to face me.
"I'd love to, Dr. Barnes, but I'm honestly considering dropping this semester and trying sometime in the future. My family needs me to work a bit more than I've been able to." I ran my hand through my hair, hating that I was having to say no once again due to my poverty.
"I understand that, but I'd beckon you to hold off for a little while longer." He got up and walked to the front of the room. "You're a talented young man. I think you could go far with the right degree. You mind seems to work in a way that mine did when I was your age."
I chuckled. "No offense, Sir, but I'm not sure we're at all alike. You seem quite put together and I'm a jacked-up mess most days."
"We all are. I'm just old. Age has shown me how to better hide the insanity." He chuckled and perched his glasses on his nose. "Humor me."
"Sure." I got up and pulled my backpack onto my shoulder.
"If my dean reads this and likes it, I'd like to talk about you coming to work for me on some research I'm doing on a subject very similar to yours. It could be done late at night or early in the morning. No set schedule, but I think you'll find that the stipend I could offer would help quite a bit with your financial struggles." He lifted his hands out to the side.
"I'd love that, but it's time that I'm struggling to find." I let out a short exhale. "Let me chew on it a few days?"
"Of course." He extended his hand and shook mine. "We have lots of scholarships that go untouched, too. I'm pretty sure Dean Markham will offer you a few grants just based on the work you've done on this paper. We're always looking for open thinkers who've lived a little bit to join us."
"Hmm...that would be great." I tucked my hands in my pocket as excitement tore up my insides. "Thanks a lot."
"I'll be in touch. You consider my offer. It's not the kind of thing we extend to just anyone." He nodded once before turning back to his desk.
A scholarship would have been great, but the research position sounded like something that would lead to maybe a real position at the college. I could see myself working in the psych department, teaching or working as an administrator.
I huffed. "Since when, greaser?"
The thought faded from my mind as I moved toward the natatorium and picked up on the sound of several people shouting. A fight.
I took off running toward the large glass structure and pushed open the door to see Martin and another guy in a fist fight. I moved into the middle of it and turned to Martin while putting my hand on his chest and pushing back a little.
"Hey, he's not worth it. Calm down." I turned and looked over my shoulder in time to catch a right hook to the side of the face.
Dude was strong. Really strong.
"Oh no the fuck you didn't." Martin moved around me and started to waylay the guy before I could shake off the dizziness of being hit so hard. I pulled the fight apart again as Coach walked out, yelling and screaming at us to cut it out.
"What the hell is the matter with you guys?" Coach Parks moved into the center of the fray and everything died down. "Who started it? Tell me now. Right now, dammit!"
"I did." I lifted my hand and worked to get my jaw to move right.
"Good. You're off the team." He pointed to the door as the whole place went into madness.
"No, he didn't. Coach, it was a mistake. Okay?" Martin reached out and tugged at my jacket as I started to walk off. I could take one for the team. Besides, I needed more time in my day, anyway.
Coach turned to me and got in my face. "We don't have time for this bullshit. You don't show up for two days, don't call or text, and now you're starting fights? I see something in you, Tate, but unless you see it, too, then my vision is useless."
I could tell that he wanted me to fight back, to fight for my spot, but I was tired.
"I'm sorry. It's all good." I patted his chest and nodded at Martin. "See you later, man."
"No." Martin gripped my jacket again, but I pulled from him.
"Yes. Leave it be. I need more time in my life, anyway." I walked to the door as Coach called out.
"Kid, wait."
I turned in time to watch him let out a loud sigh and hit his head on his clipboard. "Look, Darren Manip is coming from the US Olympic counsel today. You'll want to be here. We're having a semi-meet for him."
"I don't want to be an Olympian. I want a cheeseburger and a long-ass nap, Coach. I'm not like most of these guys. I'm killing myself working and trying to do this shit." I shook my head. "I'm good. I fought and I got kicked out. It's all good. Actions have consequences. I get it."
"Go suit up, you pain in my ass. If you impress Mr. Manip, you won't have to do anything but look pretty and swim hard. You're not missing out on this." He pointed at me as his expression tightened. "But if you fuck up one more time, you're seriously out of here."
I nodded. "Thanks, Coach."
"Whatever." He grumbled under his breath as he left all of us standing there, staring at each other.
"Tate, you didn't have to do that." Martin moved up to stand in front of me.
The idiot he'd been fighting with stepped up beside him. "No, you didn't, but it was fucking cool that you did. Thank you."
Martin glanced over at the guy and shook his head. "Fuck off, Brian. I'm being serious."
"I am, too." Brian patted Martin on the back. "Sorry I was fucking with you. I'm not going after Katelyn. I promise."
So, it was over a girl. Always.
"I know you're not. I'd kill you otherwise." Martin turned to face the guy who was at least twice his size and probably belonged on a football field instead of in a swimming pool.
"Come on, tough guy. Let's go impress the big wigs today." I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and moved us toward the locker room. "What the fuck were you even worried about? Katelyn seems to be completely taken with you, and I've only been around you guys twice, maybe."
"I don't know. He's interested in her, but she's mine." Martin stopped at the door and pulled out of my hold before rolling his shoulders. "I lost my mom when I was a kid, and my dad's a bastard and a half. I've never been cared about like I have been with her. The thought of losing her makes the crazy come out inside of me. She's my everything."
"Wow, I had no clue." I reached out and gripped his shoulder tightly. "She's not going anywhere. Get your head in the game and let's do this. Okay?"
"Yeah. You're right." He gave me a weak smile and followed me into the dressing room.
I changed quickly and decided to take the last number for the day. I needed to get to the garage, not only to help Jerry, but also to take care of Val's car, but I wanted to see what I could do. The offer from Dr. Barnes was enough to make my whole week, but hearing that I'd impressed someone from the Olympic committee? Yeah, that'd be righteous.
I waited my turn patiently and prayed silently that Martin would do great as he took his turn. I didn't know the guy that well, but after the last few hours of standing beside him and chatting, I realized that I wanted to. He was my kind of friend, and Sam would dig the guy, as well.
"Alright, tats. You're up." Coach had lovingly given me a nickname, and everyone had picked it up, as well. I could not care less. It almost made me feel like part of something, which was dangerous. I'd never really been invited into anything, and without Val's help, I wouldn't have been this time, either. Gratefulness washed over me as I pulled my swimming cap on and positioned myself on the side of the pool.
Martin had beat his own time and my best time, but I knew I had it in me to push hard, to go faster and farther. I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath as the whistle blew. After that, instinct took over and I let my body do what it knew how to do best. I'd been swimming from the time I was old enough to get myself down into the water. It was my reprieve, my escape.
I pushed up out of the water as the cheers and yells penetrated my hearing. Everyone was jumping around like a bunch of crazed idiots. I pulled myself up out of the pool and turned to face my coach as he pulled me into a hug, lifting me off my feet and bouncing me around like a sack of potatoes.
"Coach, put me down. You're gonna break your back." I pushed at his chest and shook my head. "Damn. What happened? Did I break my time?"
A deep voice resounded from behind me. "You broke lots of times and records. Some of the best I've seen. What's your name, kid?"
He extended his hand, and I shook it. "Tate Phillips."
"Great, well I'm going to invite you and Mr..." The guy released my hand and extended his to Martin.
"Martin Patterson, Sir." Martin shook his hand, visibly paling. "It's so nice to meet you."
"You too, son. You'll both be invited to the Olympic tryouts that we'll be having here in about a month. It's just a preliminary, but it should be a good challenge to see what you're made of." He turned to Coach Parks. "There are great athletes here, Jerry, but you knew that."
"I sure did." Coach Parks shook the guy’s hand and waited until he left to turn to me and Martin. "You did it. It's been damn near ten years since any of our swimmers have qualified for the prelims. I'm so proud of both of you. We'll get the paperwork together, and I'll book the rooms and-"
"Coach, wait up. I'm grateful for the opportunity, but I don't have the money for any of that stuff." I shrugged. I wanted to be embarrassed, but I'd been handing out that same story my whole life. It wasn't a mishap or some tragedy that left me and my family poor. We were just poor. We had always been. It was part of who I was.
"What? You're not paying for a damn thing, Phillips. The program pays for all of that. You can bring your mother, or if you have a special someone to come with you. I'll get the room and give you each a stipend for the weekend." He patted our backs and let out a chuckle. "You two bastards did it. I'm so proud of you."
He walked off, and I waited until everyone had walked by and congratulated us to extend my hand to Martin. "Wow. Crazy day."
"The best ever." He pulled me in for a quick hug and pat on the back. "Now...let's get to our girls and share the good news. You bringing Val for the weekend or your mom?"
"I don't know." I grabbed a towel and worked to dry my hair. "I didn't expect for there to be a weekend." I glanced up at the clock on the wall and let out a groan. "I gotta go. I'm late for work. I'll check you later, man."
"Tate," Martin called out to me, and I stopped to look over my shoulder.
"What's up?"
"Thanks for today. I hate that I pre-judged you when we first met. Forgive me."
"Already done, fool. Later." I turned and jogged back into the locker room. Martin wasn't the first person to judge me and wouldn't be the last. Besides, I'd judged him too and been dead wrong. Much like I was with Val.
Speaking of...I picked up my phone and called her as I moved around getting dressed. She was more excited than me about everything, which caused me to fall harder for the dark-haired beauty.
She wanted me to visit her parents and while I'd have said hell no a few days before, now I was ready. I wanted to fight for her.
No matter what that might mean.