Chapter 2
I take my position behind home plate, my gloved hand in front of me as I wait for the ball to come. My fingers form the plays, letting our pitcher, Mav, know what pitch to throw next. Baseball is what I live for; it’s been my passion since I started walking. There’s not a time I remember that I didn’t have a glove or ball in my hand growing up. Now that I’m in college, it’s no secret that I am one of the best players on our baseball team. But my roommates slash best friends, Mav and Zac, are right up there with me.
Early morning practice and late-night drinking do not mix well, but I make it through all the plays, a little batting, and our daily workout and weight training. Good thing I popped some painkillers before I left the apartment.
“Mitchell! In here now!” Coach Rivers shouts across the locker room.
“Yes, sir!” I respond as I tie the lace on my black chucks, slam shut my locker door, and head towards his office. I know this has to do with me failing Astronomy 101—Coach Rivers is not happy with me for it. But I just want to play ball. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.
“Shut the door behind you and have a seat,” Coach tells me, his eyes stuck on some papers.
I do just as he said, then wring my hands together while I wait for him to talk. “Dex, you’re one of my best players, and that’s why we sought after you three years ago and offered the full ride scholarship. You were told you had to keep a C-plus average and right now that’s not happening. If you can’t bring your grade up, I’ll have to bench you—and the scholarship will be taken away.” Coach slides a paper in front of me, the big fat F circled at the top.
Sitting up a little straighter in the chair, I try telling him, “You can’t do that! Baseball is everything to me.”
“I know that, and I don’t want to take that away from you, but your grade needs to drastically go up. Now, you have a couple of options: one, you can drop the class and get into another one where you actually know something, or two, you can get a tutor. Why did you pick the class?”
“I picked it because everything else was full, so dropping isn’t an option.” Standing up, I add, “Please don’t take ball away.” When I get to the door, I open it as Coach calls my name again.
“I’ll do what I can, but you need to find a tutor and quickly.”
After talking with Coach, I now know how serious my situation is. If I don’t get help, I will no longer be able to play on the team, and that is one thing that can’t happen. Honestly I don’t give a shit about the classes or the scholarship so I have kind of fucked them off. I was here for one reason and one reason only: baseball. Now that they’re threatening to take that away, I guess I need to get my ass in gear and do what needs to be done.
“Dex! Dex!” Maverick brings me out of my thoughts. “Snap out of it, man! Are you alright?” he asks while we sit on the couch in the apartment we share with Zac, watching ESPN.
“Coach talked to me today,” I answer, keeping my head down and tearing at the label on the beer bottle I’m holding but haven’t taken one sip of.
“Yeah, I heard him call you into his office. What’s going on?” I feel Mav’s concerned eyes watching me.
“I’m failing Astronomy 101, and if I don’t get my grade up they’re going to bench me and take my scholarship.” Turning my head, I make eye contact with one of my best friends.
Mav is that smartass ball player, in every sense of the word. He has dark black hair, tan skin, and the scruff that women like; then, when you add in his height of six-foot-one and tattoos, he has become the golden boy that all the ladies want. It’s like the more he’s an asshole the more they want him. Playing the position of pitcher, he has it going on, and everybody wants a piece of him.
“Fuck!” Mav blows out a deep breath then continues, “So you find someone that can tutor you.” He shrugs his shoulder like it’s that simple. “Do you know anyone in that class that’s getting a good grade?”
I think about the auburn-haired beauty that sits next to me. “Yeah, I might know of one person.” I don’t know if that’s going to go over well; she isn’t exactly social.
I’ve sat next to this girl for weeks, sneaking peeks at all of her A+ grades, and I don’t know how the hell she does it. Like I told Coach, I only took the class because everything else was full. I get bored with all the talk about planets, eclipses, and clusters of stars. I don’t see the appeal at a bunch of dots in the dark, but I need to ace this class or lose everything that is important to me. If I get benched, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.
I can’t go back home as a failure. My father would have my ass working for him on the family ranch. He always had hopes that when he was ready to retire I would take over, but I had other dreams. To say he was pissed when I took my full scholarship and ran to the University of Georgia is an understatement. I haven’t spoken to my father in the three years that have passed since the day I left home; it’s a sad situation that he can’t be happy for me or be supportive, but he is a stubborn man. My mom calls about once a month to check on me and see how things are going, but she has to call when he’s not around. She doesn’t want to be in the middle of it, and I understand—my mom’s the one that has to live with the stubborn ol’ man. Maybe one day we can patch things up, but it’s not likely as long as I’m here. It would make his day to see me fail.
Maybe the girl would tutor me? She is the only thing to keep me entertained in that class, and I’ve heard Professor Bryant call her Callie. I’ve never talked to her; I sit and watch her like a creeper, but I’ve never said so much as a hello. I promise I’m really not a creepy shit-bag, but there is something intriguing about her.
Callie sits in that class, so enamored with every word Professor speaks, while I hear nothing because I’m enraptured by her. The way she has her long auburn hair in a messy bun on the top of her head... I’ve only caught a glimpse of her face a couple of times. Her skin looks soft and smooth, but has little color. She looks like someone that stays indoors, rather than enjoying the Georgia sunlight. Her eyes seem to be a dark shade of green, almost like jade. Callie can’t be more than five-foot-two because I am a whole head taller than her when we are seated in class. She always wears the same types of clothes: a baggy shirt and jeans that are two sizes too big; I imagine she has to wear a belt to hold them up. It’s like she doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks, and that’s a big turn-on. Not like some of these thirsty females looking to get something out of you.
Callie’s clothes do her no justice, and it’s like she is hiding from the world. She can hide all she wants, but if she were mine, I’d keep her safe from anything she’s scared of. The baggy clothes, messy hair, and no makeup do not detract from her beauty, not by an ounce.
“Hey! Wanna go to The Dugout tonight?” Zac’s voice booms as he comes into the apartment, taking me away from my thoughts. Zac is one of the best guys I know; he’s always laid-back and trying to have a good time. He has the ladies eating out of the palm of his hand by being the funny guy and making them laugh. He has his sandy blonde hair in a buzz cut and hazel eyes that, when he looks at a woman, she comes running—he doesn’t even need to say a word, and she’ll go wherever he wants her to. He’s the biggest of the three of us, and built like a fucking brick house standing at six-foot-three. The dude is a machine and plays shortstop for us. Most dedicated player I know.
“Yeah, I’ll go. Dex?” Mav questions as he gets up off the couch.
“Nah, I’m gonna pass for tonight.”
As my roommates head out for the night, I decide I better get a good night’s sleep since today about killed me.