Tracy was sitting at the counter, supervising.
“I can only guess who decided on tonight’s menu. I was planning on ordering a pizza,” Tracy complained.
“You’re going to get fat,” Cassidy said.
“If you only made a few changes, you could eat almost anything,” David said. “People think they have to worry about cholesterol and that all fats are bad. If you eat whole foods and eliminate processed foods, bleached white flour, and get rid of any kind of sugar or sugar substitute, you’ll be fine,” he shared.
“We’re not all athletes. I’m not sure I could give up bread,” Pam pointed out.
“I admit that bread was the hardest. I also eat more pizza than I should,” David confessed. “Look at my dad. After his heart troubles, he started eating better and has lost all his extra weight. If he can eat healthily, so can you.”
The four friends caught up with each other while they ate. They were all disappointed when David had to run to get to the Baseball House.
When David arrived, only Andres was there.
“What’s going on? I let everyone know about the meeting.” David said.
“The Alpha Mus invited everyone to an impromptu kegger at Sig Ep.”
“Just as well. I need to finish my reading for Econ and Communication Strategy,” David said.
“Don’t say anything to the guys. I’ll talk to Coach Deneau and let him know. This crap has to stop,” Andres said.
“You’re the captain,” David said, giving him a salute.
“I know. Better me than you, right?”
“You got it.”
On the walk home, David decided that he shouldn’t be surprised that his teammates would rather party than go to a team meeting. When he’d gotten a taste of freedom during high school, he’d gone a little wild. The worst had been his stays in LA for his movies. He’d done everything from skinny-dipping to banging party hos to goofing off surfing. On one set, he’d received a blowjob from the makeup gal almost every day.
He’d been forced to grow up. Having children when he was so young had been one of many wake-up calls. He also owned or was part owner of several businesses that employed a growing number of people. Those employees counted on him not to put their jobs in jeopardy. The same could be said for the movies that would come out.
When life finally happened for his teammates, they would have a different perspective. Maybe not to David’s extent, but at some point, getting drunk stopped being the optimal choice if you had to get up for work the next morning.
The thought that jumped into his head was: ’Is baseball worth it?’
If his teammates weren’t going to take it seriously, why was he wasting his time? Football was coming up, and if he switched to defense, he would be better served to focus on that. It would also free up time. Even though David had become quite good at time management, he knew what it was like to have no time for himself. He was afraid that the first thing that would be affected would be his Sundays with his kids.
He could always pick up baseball next year when he’d settled in.
All that stopped him was that David wasn’t a quitter. He might contemplate quitting, but he’d never backed down from a challenge—and he didn’t plan to start now, even if it meant his time with his family would suffer. He had no doubt his kids wouldn’t really miss him. There was a support system in place, and they’d survived when he was gone all summer and fall.
Chapter 23
Andres
He came out of his room to head to class. Mason was standing in the hall, clad only in his underwear. His hair looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a weed whacker and lost.
“What are you doing?” Andres asked.
Mason reached for the wall to steady himself.
“Apparently, that last shot last night was a mistake,” Mason shared as he locked his jaw and sucked in a long breath. As he slowly let it out, he repeatedly mumbled, “I will not throw up.”
“Fuck,” Andres grumbled.
“What crawled up your ass?” Mason asked as he stood straight up and sucked in a deep breath through his nose.
“The coaches pulled me in yesterday. The team meeting I called was to give the team a heads-up that they’re going to come down on everyone if they don’t start following the team rules. Your little impromptu party last night couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“Who’s going to tell them? You?” Mason asked as his lips twisted into an expression that could be called a smile but wasn’t. It was too smug and self-assured.
A rising tide of self-loathing and disgust overcame Andres. For the past couple of years, he and Mason had been a team, sort of the Butch and Sundance of debauchery. Mason compared them to Vikings. They lived to drink, fuck, and fight. A part of Andres wished he’d gone out last night, but that damned Dawson had gotten into his head.
“Crystal was there last night,” Mason said to pull him out of his thoughts. “And she was looking hot as fuck.”
“Did you talk to her? Did she ask about me?” Andres asked in rapid succession.
“She was telling everyone that her new boy toy had messed up. The word is that if he doesn’t straighten up, she’ll be looking for a replacement. Last I saw, some Sig Ep was chatting her up.”
“You didn’t answer my questions,” Andres said.
“I talked to her,” Mason said as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Did she ask about me?”
Mason’s cocky grin was back.
“She asked about Dawson. She wanted to know why he wasn’t out with the team. I told her that the Boy Scout was with you doing some kind of circle jerk.”
Andres didn’t believe that for a minute. Mason was just playing with him. Andres felt like he had no control when it came to Crystal. He’d never wanted a woman as badly as he did her. All that let him make a fool of himself in front of Mason was knowing that when it came down to it, Mason would have his back.
“Look,” Andres said to get back on the topic of baseball. “The coaches are laying down the law this afternoon. You need to cool it for a while. If not, they’re talking about playing the younger guys to begin a rebuild.”
“Fuck that. I’ve never seen a coach not play his best players. Just relax. It’ll be fine,” Mason predicted.
“I’m telling you. Cool it. I want to get a minor league contract, not go home and move into my parents’ basement,” Andres said to paint a picture.
“You’ll be fine,” Mason said dismissively.
“I was told that there’ll be scouts at our upcoming games.”
“Bullshit. Why would we have scouts?”
“Dawson. Did you know he was drafted last year?”
“And he didn’t take it?” Mason asked with utter disbelief dripping from his lips.
“I know, right? Imagine making another movie for tens of millions instead of signing a minor-league contract with the Twins for a pittance. Where’s his sense of priority, huh?” Andres said, his voice filled with sarcasm. Then he collected himself.
“What his decision will do is give us a shot at catching on somewhere after college. When the scouts are here to look at him again, they’ll see us, too. We need to get our shit together,” Andres all but pleaded.
“Our shit is together.”
Andres felt like he was beating his head against a brick wall.
As Andres finished his morning classes and headed to lunch, the news of Matt and Crystal’s breakup had spread like pinkeye. He knew the few places where she usually had lunch and wanted to check to make sure she was okay. At least, that was his cover story.
He found her in an overpriced place that claimed their food was locally sourced, which was total bullshit because they were in the middle of LA. Their interpretation of ‘local’ stretched the limits of his belief. He was able to snag the table right behind her so he could eavesdrop on her conversation.