Full Count (Westland University)

by Stevens, Lynn

  “Booty call?” she asked as she stepped back to let me in.

  God, I wished it was. I shook my head as I walked past her into the living room.

  “What’s going on, Aaron?” Her hand rested on the back of my arm, and I stepped away from her. Her touch was enough to make me want to jump off a bridge.

  We stood like that, me facing the living room and her somewhere behind me, for too long to count. Finally, I found my voice. “I fucked up.”

  “What do you mean?” Mallory’s words were punctuated with confusion, fear, and disappointment.

  I swallowed hard and tried to figure out the easiest way to tell her. The scenarios I’d imagined replayed in my mind as I kept searching for a way out of this mess. My heart crashed into my ribs.

  “Aaron?” There was the desperation I’d hoped not to hear.

  I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. “I… You have to understand one thing, Mallory. I didn’t know anything about your family. Please remember that?”

  “You’re scaring me.” She tensed, and I could see every single wall I’d torn down rebuild brick by brick around her. “Did you… Please tell me you didn’t sleep with someone else.”

  My eyes flew open and I spun on my heel. “God, no. I’d never do that to you. I love you, Mallory.”

  “Then what?” Tears filled her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. I knew her better than that.

  I reached out and ran my finger along her jaw. “I’m so sorry.”

  She stepped back from me, letting my hand linger in the empty air where she’d stood. “Tell me. Or I’m going to think the worst.”

  I dropped my hand and willed myself to look away from her, but I couldn’t. My gaze held hers. “And it wouldn’t be bad enough.”

  Mallory stared at me. I knew she was trying to work out the problem and a potential solution. There wasn’t one. I had to just tell her.

  “I…last year while I was recovering, I took HGH.” My breathing became quicker, my pulse raced. I ignored the tightening in my chest, waiting for her to say something. But she said nothing. She didn’t even move. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard before opening them. “And steroids.”

  The plate fell from her hand, shattering around her bare feet.

  “Get out.” Her voice was too calm, too soft. The walls I’d watched her take down slowly, slammed back into place.

  “Can I ju—” Desperation filled my throat, clogging it with everything I needed to say to her.

  “Get out.” Her tone stayed neutral as her gorgeous eyes turned to glass.

  “Ple—”

  “GET OUT!” Her scream rattled the windows. She stepped on the broken glass as she turned away from me.

  “I didn’t know,” I whispered. She had to understand that. How could I have known this would hurt her so much? Hell, I didn’t even think she’d give me a chance when I’d started taking the PEDs. My chest tightened again as my heartbeat played in my ears. I reached up and rubbed my left pec. “Please, Mallory. I didn’t know.”

  “You didn’t know?” Her voice was calmer than it should’ve been as she faced me. “That’s your excuse? That you didn’t know? You think that somehow makes this okay?” She breathed with barely controlled rage as her chest heaved like she’d run a marathon. “You’re just like my father, my brother. Baseball’s the only thing that will ever matter to you. Baseball above everyone else. Even yourself. Get out of my house, Aaron. Get out of my life.”

  She turned around, keeping her back to me, and pointed toward the front door. I glanced down at her feet where the blood pooled near her toes. She didn’t shift her feet away from the broken plate, or even act like the cuts hurt. Maybe they didn’t because my confession hurt her more.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “I can take care of myself.” Her head dropped to her chest. The coldness left her voice, and the agony radiated from her. “Just go. You can’t…you can’t fix this.”

  My feet wouldn’t move. It became a standoff between what she wanted and what I wanted. She would win.

  “Leave,” she ordered. “We’re done.”

  “I know.” The reality of hearing it was much worse than imagining it. I shuffled over to the door and turned toward her. She shifted so I couldn’t see her face. “If I could turn back time, I would. But I can’t. I was only thinking about getting on the field. I let my team down. I let my coach down. Hell, I let myself down.” I reached for the door, not really sure how to put what I knew I’d done to her into words. My fingers tingled and turned cold. I let my left arm fall and reached again with my right. “And you…” The tears I’d held broke free. I sobbed like a baby. “You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt. I was selfish and childish. And I never wanted to hurt you.” I wiped my nose with the arm of my coat. “All I wanted was to protect you from everybody who ever hurt you. When you told me…when you told me about your family…” I banged my left fist against the door, hoping to wake up the numbing sensation. “I love you. If that’s not enough to even consider giving me a chance to make it up to you, there’s nothing I can do.”

  Her body lost its rigid stance, and her shoulders heaved with her own sobs.

  I fell against the door. “I would do anything for you. Anything. If you’ll just give me a chance to try—”

  “Please just go.” She tiptoed around the rest of the glass and hobbled through the kitchen, turning into the bathroom. The click of the door echoed in the silence.

  I couldn’t move. Once I opened the door and stepped outside, that would be it. I didn’t want this to be over. Mallory was the girl I was supposed to marry. She’d stolen my heart, and I’d never recover. And I knew she’d never forgive me. I understood why, but I didn’t want to accept it. I waited, hoping she’d come out and talk.

  Twenty minutes later, I hadn’t moved, and neither had she.

  What little hope I thought there was, I let go. I held the key in my hand, taking it off the keychain she had made for me, and dropped it in the bowl on the table. Turning the handle, I whispered, “I’m so sorry,” and walked out her door for the last time.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  When I got back to the dorm, campus police crowded the hall. I shouldered through them to my room, opening the door to the mess inside. Not a mess, exactly, but my packed belongings. It was my life that was the real mess. There wasn’t any reason to hang around anymore. Even though the team knew, my test results would be all over campus by morning, especially after Seth’s arrest. At least, I assumed they arrested him.

  I turned at a knock on the doorframe. Chuck still looked pissed, but he came to see me. That had to mean something.

  “Need some help?” he asked.

  Or maybe he just wanted me off campus. I nodded. The numbness had crept up my fingers into my elbow. I doubted I could carry much with how weak it felt. Together we loaded my truck in silence. Once the last bag was stashed, Chuck turned to leave.

  “Wait.” I practically begged. Chuck stopped and faced me. “I know I don’t deserve to ask, but can you do me a favor?”

  He cocked an eyebrow but didn’t say no.

  “Will you keep an eye on Mallory? She’s going to need a friend.”

  Chuck squinted at me, trying to find an angle. “She dumped you?”

  “I fucked up, man, but more so with her than anyone.” I ran my hand over my face to try to gain some form of composure. It didn’t work. “You remember that high school coach who died in a car crash with his kid? The steroid scandal?”

  “Yeah, Verbach. He was drugging his…” Chuck’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck.”

  I snorted. That was an understatement. “Just watch out for her. She didn’t deserve this.”

  Chuck nodded and stared over my shoulder. “Why’d you bust Seth?” He dropped his gaze to mine. “You could’ve just left and let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “He gave me that bottle of B-12, but there weren’t any vitamins in it. I stopped doping well before the drug screen, Chuck. He se
t me up.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and stared at the brick of my dorm. “Besides, who would Seth sell to next? Rosenthal? Murray? Or any of the other guys?” I leaned against the truck and shook my head. “I couldn’t let somebody else fuck up their lives like I did. It’s not worth it.”

  “No, it’s not.” Chuck leaned against the truck beside me. “They found his stash. He’s busted for having illegal drugs on campus, but nobody else came forward about him dealing. You willing to testify against him when the time comes?”

  “Yeah.” I stood a little straighter. It was the least I could do to get the ’roids off the campus. Maybe something good could come from this. My heartbeat played my ribs like a xylophone. “Yeah, let Coach know, would you? And Ross?”

  Chuck nodded. He pushed off the truck and stood in front of me, holding out his hand. “Good luck, Aaron.”

  I tried to lift my left hand. My arm wouldn’t move. I stared at it as if that would make it work.

  “You okay?”

  Electricity shot down my arm, setting my skin on fire. I grabbed my arm and reached for Chuck.

  I knew my heart stopped beating.

  The monitor beeped steadily. I blinked my eyes, blinded by the fluorescent lights above me. The disinfectant hit my nose. I hated the smell of hospitals. I hated why I was here.

  “Hello, Mr. Betts.” The voice had that eerily familiar sound.

  I glanced over and met the steady gaze of the same doc who treated me last time I was here. When Seth dropped me off and ran. When I snuck out without even telling them who I was. Shit. I closed my eyes, willing all of today to just fucking disappear.

  “Had you stayed the last time, we could’ve prevented this.”

  “I should’ve.” My voice was harsh and dry, like all I’d had to eat was gravel.

  “Yes, but that’s in the past. Let’s get your future started.” I glanced at him. There was a warm smile, the first I’d seen. “Your family’s here. They want to see you.”

  I nodded and pushed the button raising my bed. “What happened?”

  “Ventricular fibrillation leading to cardiac arrest.” He crossed his hands at the wrists and rocked on his heels. “You’ll be fine, but your heart needs to be taken better care of. We’ll get you set up with a cardiologist.”

  I swallowed hard. Not even twenty-two and my heart wasn’t working right. This was my fault. God, I’d screwed up my life so much. For no reason. No real fucking reason.

  “What did you take, Aaron?” Doc’s voice held an ounce of sympathy surrounded by the coldness of my reality.

  “HGH and anabolic steroids.” I sighed. “I only took them for a month or so, but the guy who got me the stash gave me a bottle of what I thought were B-12 supplements. I took those for another month. And took more than I should have.”

  “So, you’re saying this isn’t your fault?”

  My head snapped toward him. “No, I’m not. I doped. I made the decision. He may have screwed me over with that bottle, but I started it. Either way, it’s all my fault.”

  He nodded. “Good. At least you recognize that.”

  “Yeah, boy.” Dad’s voice filled the room.

  I closed my eyes for a moment before facing him. The doctor slipped out of the room, past my father who stood alone at the door. Disappointment covered his face like deck paint.

  “Why?” He still hadn’t stepped into the room.

  “To play.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t want to redshirt. Because I was greedy. Because I wanted to be on the field. Because I didn’t care about anything but baseball.” I paused and stared at him. “Because I didn’t want to end up…like you.”

  Dad snorted. “I ain’t got heart problems, boy. You do.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. In all my life, I’d never cried in front of my father. He was tough, manly. It wasn’t something he’d tolerate. I blinked hard, willing them to stop. They didn’t. Once they started, they wouldn’t stop. I opened my eyes. Dad had moved into the room and stood at the foot of the bed. His hands pressed into the metal footboard. His fingers were whiter than fresh snow.

  “We could’ve lost you, boy.” His voice hitched, making my tears flow faster.

  “You didn’t. And you won’t.”

  He moved around to the side and wrapped his arms around me. “No, we won’t.”

  I don’t know how long we sat like that before two more sets of arms joined us. Mom and Chelsea cried as I confessed again. Then we talked about what happened next. Basically, I was going home. Because of my participation in bringing down Seth, who, it turned out, had sold steroids since his freshman year to other athletes and to regular guys, the university would allow me to stay enrolled but online only. I could still finish my business degree on time. I just wasn’t allowed to set foot on campus. Not even for graduation.

  Mom and Dad stepped out to talk to the doctor about my release, leaving my little sister alone with me.

  “Guess New York seems tame in comparison now?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “This isn’t funny.” She sat on the edge of my bed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Chelsea without makeup or her hair perfectly styled. She was a mess.

  “I know.” I couldn’t look at her. My father’s disappointment was enough. I didn’t need to see it on my little sister. “Just don’t fuck up your life like I have mine, sis. I’ve lost everything.”

  “Not everything. You’ve still got us.”

  I huffed a laugh. “Yeah, and nothing else. I’ll never play ball again. I’ll never get that feeling of walking onto the field again. And I’ll never see Mallory again.”

  Chelsea took my hand. “She was here.”

  God, what had I done to her?

  “She told me everything. Aaron, there was no way you could’ve known about her family the way she kept it all bottled up. You’re still an idiot, though.”

  I nodded, but the pressure building on my chest wouldn’t let me speak.

  “She loves you, you know?”

  “But it’s not enough.” The words choked out of my throat.

  “No, not this time. Can you blame her?”

  “Blame’s all on me, sis. All on me.”

  Mom and Dad came back in with a nurse. I closed my eyes, willing darkness to come. Willing the pain, the heartache, and the reality away.

  Nothing like that would ever happen. I’d have to live with my decisions. And I’d live with them alone.

  Chapter Thirty

  Ten months later

  I stepped inside Franklin High School with plenty of time. The traffic getting into Iowa City moved slower than a snail because of a tractor-trailer accident and holiday travelers. I’d planned the drive with an extra hour to spare just in case. I’d learned my lesson a month ago when I was scheduled to speak at a high school in Cedar Rapids, and construction on the interstate set me behind by half an hour. Since then, I planned extra drive time.

  “Hi,” I said to the woman behind the bulletproof glass. “I’m Aaron Betts. Coach Withers is expecting me.”

  She smiled and glanced at a paper on a clipboard. “Yes, here you are. Actually, it says Principal Boudreau wants to see you.” She pushed a button, and the door to the office clicked open. “Come on in.”

  I sat in a chair not meant for an adult ass and waited for the principal. After my humiliating exit from college, I came up with a game plan. With the help of my father, I started contacting high school sports teams and summer programs throughout Iowa and offered to speak in front of them about my use of PEDs. They needed to understand the dangers of using, not just to their bodies but to their lives. I never brought up Mallory. It still hurt too damn much. Every night when I closed my eyes, I relived the moment when I told her what I’d done. It haunted me.

  “Mr. Betts?” A woman in a sharp gray pantsuit stood before me with her hand extended. Her blond hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders. The warmth of her smile surprised me. When I shook her
hand, she squeezed it tighter than most men I knew. “Coach Withers told me about you, but I’m afraid I’ve got other plans.”

  “Other plans?” I almost took a step back from this obviously crazy woman. What the hell else could she have in mind?

  She smiled, and I was glad she wasn’t my principal in high school. I wouldn’t have gotten away with shit. “Please come into my office. I’ll explain.”

  Forty minutes later, I sat onstage in the auditorium filled with student athletes who were more excited about Thanksgiving break than an assembly. Principal Boudreau decided I needed to speak to all the teams. Even the cheerleaders were in the room. She also wanted me to open up the floor for questions. That wasn’t an issue. I’d done that at every school I’d visited since September. Most of the time, the kids didn’t ask anything at all. Instead, I’d field questions from the coaching staff.

  Sometimes I felt good when I left, like I got through to the athletes. Sometimes nobody cared about what I said.

  Principal Boudreau gave a small introduction with some very detailed information about my exit from school. I shook it off. It wasn’t a big secret. I’d given interviews and testified during Seth’s hearing over the summer.

  I smiled when I stood before the kids, taking the microphone off the podium before I started. “Sorry, but I can’t stand still,” I said, earning a few laughs.

  “As Principal Boudreau said, my name is Aaron Betts, and I tested positive for performance enhancing drugs my junior year of college. I was eligible for the draft and a top prospect. Now here I am,” I began. The crowd quieted down after that, and I launched into my story, leaving Mallory as the only part I held back. Hell, I didn’t even bring up how Seth sabotaged me. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I used. “I’d hurt my knee during a soccer game, tearing my ACL and meniscus. The initial surgery was successful, but I didn’t listen to my doctor. I pushed too far, too fast, and I wasn’t healing as quickly as I thought I should. My recovery was hampered by my own stupidity. I wanted to play baseball. That was all I ever wanted. So I started using HGH and anabolic steroids to recover faster.” Even as I neared the end, I knew I was getting through to the vast majority of the students. It felt good. It felt right. It felt like redemption was possible. “Using cost me my college career, my future, and my health. I’ve suffered some of the aftereffects of steroid abuse, even though I only used for a few short months. My face broke out, but that was on the outside. The worst was ’roid rage, I’d get uncontrollably angry. Nobody was safe. I was lucky. It never got beyond verbal abuse, but it was still abuse. That was when I was using. Now I still suffer.”