Bush League: New Adult Sports Romance

by Pfeiffer Jayst

  "Are you serious? That's amazing!"

  "I know they'll be impressed by you. You got a suit? Make sure it's pressed so you look good tomorrow," he says.

  I'm still high off of the news that his follow up doesn't immediately register. I ask him to repeat himself before I fall back down to reality.

  "We're going to meet them at a hotel downtown tomorrow." Dad misreads the concern on my face. "Don't worry, you'll do great. As your agent, I'll do most of the talking and we'll be all set. This is the big time, son."

  I have to speak up now or never. "Game four of the championship is tomorrow. My team needs me."

  Dad's face drops from ecstatic to deadly serious. "Not this shit again," he says. "You have got to get serious about your future. That college team has served its purpose and you've been scouted. It's time to move on. They're barely even using you, they put you in the bullpen for chrissakes. This is New York we're talking about."

  I stand up from my seat in an effort to show I'm serious. "They need me and I said I'd support them no matter what. They've always been there for me."

  "Then don't let them drag you down. You're not blowing our future because of some silly game. Get your head straight before tomorrow's meeting."

  Father returns to his papers as if I'd suddenly disappeared. I have no idea how I'm going to explain my absence to my team, to Coach.

  ...to Quinn.

  I send her a text because I need somebody to talk me through this but, in a move she's absolutely entitled to make, Quinn ignores my message leaving me to face this problem on my own.

  *****

  Chapter Twenty

  Quinn

  *****

  Beau had once again got me all hot and bothered when I swore he wouldn't. With him escaping from my house at the last possible second, I can only assume he found safety and would not be bothering me since my father had come home. This precious time would best be used for cramming some more for tomorrow's test. I figure if I can stay on track and really focus, the exam that accounts for such a large portion of my grade and future will be a breeze.

  Inspiration hits and a locate my phone to silence it, best not having it as another distraction. Almost on cue, the moment my finger goes to slide across the screen and turn it off, it starts to vibrate. It shows that it's Becca calling. She always texts so I realize this must be very important and allow myself to take just this one phone call.

  "Hey...," I say, secretly happy to engage in anything that doesn't have to do with math or boys.

  Becca launches into her spiel almost immediately. "Hi Quinn, real quick, big news," she says, almost out of breath. "Remember how I told you I have a cousin that works on American Superstar?"

  Before responding, my memory jogs to try and recall if we'd ever had this conversation. I kind of remember her saying something but it's not immediately clear. I'd never paid much attention to the tv show, it's a lot of work and chances of winning the lottery are probably better than even being on this particular show. It's a popularity contest, so I'd never given it too much thought. My silence encourages Becca to keep explaining.

  "Well, he emailed me and said they really need more contestants for the next season. The producers really want to find female singer-songwriters. He said the auditions here won't be advertised so there won't be a huge crowd of people auditioning BUT, if I tell him you're my friend, you're practically guaranteed to be able to audition for the celebrity coaches!"

  It's a lot of information to process. Would I want to try for a spot on the show? Did I think I was good enough to risk the humiliation? What if they put me on tv for trying out but only end up making me a laughingstock? What would my father say if it was all a whole bunch of wasted time?

  "C'mon Quinn, you know you're good enough," Becca continues. "I have full faith that they'll love you, I really do."

  Though still not completely swayed, I need more information.

  "When is it?"

  "They'll be at a hotel downtown, I'll get you the info." Becca needs me to repeat my question. "Oh, sorry. It's tomorrow afternoon."

  While I wasn't completely set on auditioning, I'm heartbroken to learn that I can't even if I want to.

  "Shit, my big test is tomorrow afternoon. It's gonna take a few hours," I tell her.

  "Fuck your test," she screams into the phone, "This is American Superstar. If you win, you'll never have to take another test ever again. Hell, even if you just get picked for the show, you're set for life!"

  Fantasies play in my mind of what actually getting picked for the show could do for me. My dreams would be within reach, my life changed forever.

  "Becca, I can't..." I start to say but she doesn't let me finish.

  "I'm going to send you the info. Please, please, please think it over. They'd be really lucky to have you."

  When Becca hangs up, I'm dreading her email because I'll be forced to make a definitive decision. Though I'm pretty determined to take the test and not flunk out of school, the lure of super-stardom is proving to be too much to shake.

  "Knock, knock," I hear suddenly and when I look up, my father is standing in my doorway. For all the time I had been home, there hasn't been one occasion where he's come up to my room. Something's up and my heart starts to race thinking that he found out about Beau.

  "Hey Dad, what's up?"

  Instead of answering right away, Dad comes over and sits next to me on my bed, worrying me even more. He doesn't look angry but there's definitely something on his mind that he needs to get out.

  "How are your classes going?" he asks while studying the skin on the back of his hand.

  "Good, I think," I say, telling the truth. He turns his attention and himself towards me, reaching out to brush my hair back behind my ear, something he hasn't done since I was a little girl.

  "Listen," he says, "I know I've been hard on you and I'm sorry. I know you're still young but," he looks away again and has me concerned, "You getting the proper education is very important. When your mother got sick, she made me promise that I'd make sure you got an education, no matter what. You'll be so thankful one day and once you have a successful career, then you can do all the singing you want."

  There's tears welling up in both of our eyes and words aren't easy to form or get out. Breathing through my nose becomes difficult as the runoff from emotions fills my nostrils.

  "I know Dad, it's just, I'm not sure if..." I stutter out.

  "Just get the diploma, Quinnie," he says with his face softening into a shape I've never seen before. "Just get the diploma and everything will be fine."

  Before either of us can see the other cry, he gets up from my bed, kisses my forehead and walks to the door. This is the most emotional moment the two of us had ever shared and he's careful to cut it off before it gets too intense.

  "I don't have a practice or game tonight, you wanna grab dinner?" he asks and my heart almost explodes into a pile of conflicted pieces. Knowing full well I'll be able to study if I give him something to do, I can't resist the opportunity.

  "Actually," I say in a voice that I know will get his attention. "My car hasn't been starting. Would you mind taking a look?"

  He lights up, happy to help his girl in her time of need. Dad explains that he has a mechanic friend who he can have take a look at it. From the look on his face, this is better than the two of us sitting through an awkward dinner.

  "Great. If you don't mind, I'm going to take a cab over to the library to study. Can I get a raincheck on dinner?"

  Dad offers the use of his car several times but I refuse, it's too big. He gives me a big hug before telling me that he's proud of me and that he knows I'll ace my test. He's happy to have something to do and says he'll take my car over right away.

  "Where you going?" the cab driver asks when I pile into his car. The address for the library is in my head and ready to come out of my mouth but I pause. Playing on his radio is a woman with a stunning voice singing a song that seems to hit me in all of my emotio
nal places. Maybe I have a heightened sensitivity because of what had just transpired in the house but there's something about this woman's song that speaks to me.

  "Can you drive me out to Far Harbor?" I ask and the driver nods into the rearview mirror.

  *****

  Chapter Twenty One

  Beau

  *****

  After leaving the uncomfortable "business meeting” with my father, I need to go blow off steam the only way I know how. Well, the second best way I know how. With Quinn occupied, I'm left to go to the batting cage to go smash some balls and relieve some tension. When I arrive it's rather empty but almost as soon as I start up the pitching machine, I hear a bunch of voices arriving.

  "Looks at this, our pitcher thinks he can hit!" Enzo's voice echoes through the room. He gets some laughs by our teammates around him, some good natured ribbing that I smile and acknowledge.

  "Watch me boys, I'll show you guys how it's done."

  The whole group gather around and really put the pressure on for me to connect for some hits. While I miss more than I connect, I'm not terrible, surprising even myself. When I step out of the batter's box and put my arms up to surrender, my wonderful teammates give me a round of applause. Tommy, the freshman second baseman, takes the bat from me and steps in to take my place in the cage. As I walk out, Enzo gestures for me to come over.

  "I can't believe we're about to do it," he says quietly as the other guys hoot and holler at Tommy's impressive batting skills. "We're gonna be champions in our junior year."

  My head nods along with him. Given that it's been Enzo's job on the field to read me and react, he can tell something is wrong.

  "Beau, tell me you'll be there. I know you might only be used as a reliever but we still need you. Tell me you'll be there," he pleads. What am I supposed to say? If Enzo or any of these other guys felt even half of the pressure that was being put on me, they'd collapse. I couldn't expect them to understand.

  "I gotta go man," I tell him and Enzo just shakes his head in disbelief. I try to get out of there without a scene but as I'm walking out of the facility, Enzo calls out, "We'll see you at the game, Beau. You won't let us down, I know you."

  He most certainly has the attention of our teammates who are probably under the impression that Enzo is just shouting support. They are blissfully unaware of what's really going on.

  *****

  There aren't many people in my life I can truly be myself around, who I can be honest and turn to for advice. Since most of them are in that batting cage, I'm forced to call the only one I have left. It just rings and rings, Quinn's not picking up. Without shame I dial and redial several times to try and get her on the line but she's not picking up. My truck drives aimlessly as my brain tries to figure out what the hell I'm going to do and there's no clear answer popping into my head. When I hear the alert of a new text message ring out, I pull the car over, excitedly hoping to hear from Quinn.

  "Your girlfriend is here. By herself," the text reads. It's from my dear old family friend Giuseppe, texting from La Bella Rosa. Without questioning why Quinn is at the restaurant, I point my truck towards the water and race to be by her side.

  *****

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Quinn

  *****

  There wasn't a plan in place for when I got to the beach, my only need was to get away. The cab driver happily accepts the large fare and is equally as excited to get out of there as soon as I step out of the car. I'm on the boardwalk, all alone, without my books to study or any idea of what to do with my future. This beach is where Beau and I had a night all alone, a night away from the pressures tearing us both apart. We didn't have to hide or pretend that we didn't want to be together. I'm quick to realize that it was foolish to strand myself alone up here, that feelings from that night with Beau couldn't be recreated up here without him. By running away from my problems, I've only made them harder to solve. It was a mistake and before I can lose it and cry right there on the boardwalk, I see La Bella Rosa and remember the beautiful voice I had heard inside. Without anywhere else to go, I head towards the restaurant.

  Walking inside, I find that it's practically empty yet again. The woman is up on stage performing and there are only a few people enjoying her performance. Beau's friend happily seats me and doesn't give any indication he remembers who I am. He gives me space to watch the performance and I am instantly mesmerized. The woman sings as if nobody is watching, stretching her range to places that she shouldn't be able to go. She has a confidence as if the poetic words leaving her come directly from her heart. She's true, genuine and my heart breaks as she sings. When she finishes a song, she doesn't wait for applause, just resetting herself on stage before getting ready for the next one. She appears surprised when she hears my dainty hands clapping together, my applause with great enthusiasm. The woman puts her flattened hand up to her forehead to block the lights and scans the crowd to find the source of the clapping. When she lands on me we share a smile before her face gets serious again and she begins the next song.

  Almost instantly I feel a deep connection with the woman as she sings a song of regret and missed opportunity. The lyrics mention following the flighty fancy of her heart instead of doing what was right. Now that the singer is older, she realizes she can't change her past and is forced to live out her days by order of the mistakes of her youth. I feel as though I've been punched in the gut and am doing everything I can to hold back tears. When the music stops I applaud wildly again and the woman gestures to someone off stage before leaving the platform to come approach my booth.

  "I'm not used to an audience, at least not these days," she says, extending her hand and telling me her name is "Carol". When our hands touch, I feel her light grip coupled with worn and tired hands. Carol has some miles on her; she's lived and been through hardships I can't possibly understand yet. Carol sits in my booth and orders us both a glass of wine. "As long as you're old enough," she asks me to confirm and that I am. Freshly twenty one and learning that causes her to wistfully smile, telling me she can barely even remember that long ago. It's not lost on me that I came to the beach looking for answers, for guidance, and it may well have just landed right in front of me. I'm going to give Carol the opportunity to be a mentor.

  "It's not an easy life," she explains when I tell her I want to be a singer like her. "You'll be working your little ass off forever. And don't expect to get rich," she says, a statement I remember later when she outright ignores the bill for the wine we drank. "Is this what I thought I'd be doing when I started out?" she asks out loud, "No. I thought I'd be performing for stadiums full of people. I guess it just doesn't work out that way for everyone."

  She's not giving me any new information but I try to put myself in her shoes. If I could be performing every night, even if it were for only small audiences, I'd still be happy. I think.

  "If I could go back to when I was your age," she says, "I'd set myself up with some sort of career, something I could use to be a little more productive, make some money. The entertainment world is so fickle, you could be shunned quickly and not even realize it until it's too late. I wonder what it would be like to live the life of a banker, have a straight up nine to five, maybe raise some kids with a loving husband. I've been down the road with the cocky guys who cheat and let me tell you sweetheart, it's not a good way to live."

  My heart sinks so far down I think soon I'll be kicking it around with my feet. Just when I believe she has pointed me right right towards a life as an accountant, she changes course. "But you always, always, have to follow your heart. If I had lived a life as a banker, I know I would dream every day about being up on that stage."

  She leaves me with those conflicting words to ponder as I pay for the wine and start towards the door. I'm still not completely sure of which path I should take. My only immediate plan is to watch the sunset and get a cab home to start the rest of my life. When I go to pull the restaurant door open, somebody is standing there. The f
alling sun illuminates the body of a well-built man.

  "I was hoping to find you here," he says and my body tingles upon realizing that Beau has come all the way here to find me.

  *****

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Beau

  *****

  The second I open the door at La Bella Rosa, a beautiful girl falls right into my arms. Quinn holds me tight as if I'm saving her life, as if only I can provide the comfort she needs. She doesn't know that I came searching for her because I needed the same. Her tight embrace makes me feel better right away; whatever I have to face I can do it with her.

  "Where you headed?" I ask. "Wanna go watch the sunset?"