by Kim Jones
“I’m sure you don’t want this guy bothering you.”
Aimee raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
“I just meant, wouldn’t you rather be with a real man?” The man shot his friends a look over his shoulder, and they all gave him a thumbs up. Looked like they were part of some fraternity.
Great.
Aimee hated fraternities, and she hated guys with egos even more.
“I was talking to a real man, and you interrupted, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to that.” Aimee’s voice was saccharine sweet, but she made sure she injected enough cynicism in it for the man to know how serious she was. The man gawked for a minute before he picked his jaw up off the ground and stepped back.
“Your loss.” He shrugged as he headed back towards his friends.
“Not really,” Aimee said flippantly as Dustin squeezed past the guys and stared at her in awe and fascination.
“I’ve never seen anyone do that before,” Dustin uttered, surprised.
“Yeah, well, I was raised to fight my own battles not wait for someone to conquer them for me,” Aimee informed him as she tossed back a drink and gave him a flirty look over his shoulder. “I’m sorry about the interruption.”
Dustin shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a freshman at college, so I’m kind of new to this whole thing.”
“What thing?” Aimee tilted her head to the side and regarded Dustin intently. He was cute with his floppy dark hair, hazel colored eyes and medium build. He wasn’t the type she usually went for, given that she preferred to dance dangerously close to the wild side, but for tonight, she just wanted a nice guy.
Most people would call Aimee rebellious, but she just called it a part of growing up. She didn’t want to follow the rules all the time, nor should she have to, rules were made to be broken after all.
“Life.” Dustin gestured around him and shrugged. “Do you want to dance?”
Aimee took a sip of her drink and smiled slowly. “I’d love to.”
“Aimee, you don’t even know the guy,” Jennifer whispered, furiously.
“So?” Aimee shrugged off her friends’ arm and followed Dustin onto the dance floor where he wrapped his arms around her waist, and she wrapped hers around his neck.
***
Aimee giggled and hiccoughed as she placed her hand over her mouth to keep her parents from hearing her. She’d had one too many drinks, but she didn’t regret it one bit.
“Where have you been, young lady?”
Her father was calm, but she didn’t miss the steel in his tone. She swallowed thickly and turned to face him, flinching when he switched on the light, instantly flooding the room.
“Aimee Christine Lincoln. Are you drunk?” Her father sounded outraged as he crossed his arms over his chest, and his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“I’m a legal adult now, dad,” she slurred as she pushed herself up to her full height. “You need to stop treating me like a child.”
“Then stop acting like one,” he snapped.
“How can I if you keep restricting my freedom?” Aimee yelled as she reached out a hand to steady herself against the couch.
“For heaven’s sake, you are going to be a doctor, Aimee. You need to start taking that seriously,” he said, sternly. “When are you going to grow up?”
“When it’s time for me to grow up,” she said, hotly. “I’m still a kid, dad, and I want to be that way for as long as possible. Why can’t you understand that we don’t all want to grow up and be as serious as you?”
“How dare you speak to me like that?” he bellowed.
Aimee took a deep breath and exhaled. “I don’t want to fight with you, Dad. Please, not today. It’s supposed to be a happy day.”
“You are grounded, young lady. Go to your room.”
“You can’t do that,” Aimee protested. “I’m a legal adult now. You can’t.”
“This is my house, and so long as you live under my roof, you will do as a I say.”
“I can’t wait to move out and get away from you.” Aimee spun on her heels and stomped up the stairs, slamming the door behind her for good measure as she huffed and threw herself onto her bed.
Chapter 2
Tommy wiped the sweat off his brow and felt the sun beat down on his exposed lower back. He took a deep harsh breath and lowered his arms, bringing the bat down to rest on the floor. He peeled the shirt back from his body and frowned as he stared down at it.
Finally, he decided to peel it off and toss it to the side. His sweat soaked shirt was just getting in the way, and there was no rule that said he couldn’t play without a shirt on. The muscles in his back contracted and expanded under the weight of the sun. Sweat poured steadily down his back, and Tommy grinned as he gave them a thumbs up.
“Adams, Tommy, are you ready?” a man called out as he stared down at a clipboard and brought his hands up to shield his eyes from the sun. He squinted as he caught sight of Tommy smiling awkwardly, his hands hanging limply at his side.
“I’m ready, sir,” Tommy called out, cupping his hands over his mouth to be heard over the stadium. Tommy turned his head to the side and coughed as the dusty weather filled his nostrils. There were some people off to the side waiting for him to finish, but the rest had already gone home.
Tommy couldn’t believe he was here.
In Chicago Coyotes’ stadium. The real deal. He almost wanted to pinch himself, but instead he felt that he had play it cool and unaffected. However, the problem was that Tommy was still nineteen years old, and he wasn’t sure his hormones weren’t going to get the better of him. He was still a guy, after all.
The coach raised an eyebrow. “There are no ladies to impress around here, son. I hope that’s not why you took your shirt off.”
Some of the other guys bent their heads to laugh, and Tommy cleared his throat as he crossed his arms over his chest. Now, he felt self-conscious.
“No, sir. It’s just because my shirt was hindering my performance,” Tommy responded, with as much bravado as he could muster. The coach grunted in response and jotted something down on the clipboard.
The coach made a sweeping hand motion and gestured for Tommy to begin. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Tommy inhaled through his mouth and released the breath through his nose. His heart skipped erratically in his rib cage, and he forced himself to unclench, so that some of the tension left his body. He stepped up to the plate, positioned himself and brought the bat up to eye level. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, his eyes zeroing in on the pitcher who stood motionless, his expression vacant.
Fear began to spread in the pit of his belly, but Tommy ignored it and focused. He’d been training for this for a long time, and he loved baseball. This was his dream, and he was so close he could literally taste it. It was within arm’s reach. Everything he’d envisioned it could be.
He only wished his dad was here to see this.
The pitcher threw the ball, and Tommy swung the bat as hard as he could, feeling satisfaction course through him the bat connected solidly with the ball. Tommy immediately set off around the stadium hitting a home run. He let out a whoop and fist pumped the air as he heard a smattering of applause.
The coach nodded and signaled for Tommy to go back to the start and try again. Adrenaline pumped through Tommy’s veins, and he felt invincible as he trotted back to the start and picked up the bat again.
One down, a few more to go.
Tommy couldn’t tell if the coach liked his performance or not because his mouth was pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were deliberately flitting from Tommy to the rest of the players as he examined everything around him. Tommy felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as four pairs of eyes bored holes into the back of his skull.
He rolled his shoulders to the side and shook his head. He repeated the same steps as before and got the same result. A surprised expression crossed the coach’s face, and Tommy caught it,
smiling to himself at his victory.
After four home runs, the coach placed the clipboard under his arm and gestured for Tommy to come forward. Tommy sprinted and skidded to a halt in front of the coach, his chest heaving with effort.
“Yeah, coach?” Tommy asked.
“That’s pretty good, son,” the coach complimented, studying Tommy critically. Tommy tried not to squirm underneath the inquisitive stare, but it was difficult.
“Thank you, coach.” Tommy smiled warmly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, how did I do?”
“I think you’ve got talent,” the coach began. “Have you played baseball before?”
“I played at school. Minor leagues,” Tommy supplied noting how the coach pulled up his clipboard and perused it.
“Yes, it says here you did quite well too,” the coach responded, his tone impressed. “Yes, I am impressed. You’ve got a feel for this game.”
“I’ve loved it since I was little,” Tommy admitted. “I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”
Tommy knew this was a cliché, and the coach probably heard a thousand other stories like that. Tales of untapped potential and wasted opportunities, but he couldn’t help it if it was the truth.
Tommy just needed someone to take a chance on the kid from the other side of the track.
“Excellent grip, ability to focus and perform well under pressure,” the coach muttered more to himself. “Yes, I think you’ll do well. Alright, kid. Let’s give you a shot. How would you like to come do this again bright and early on Monday?”
Tommy’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “Really? Thanks, coach.”
The coach waved away his comment. “Don’t thank me yet. It’s hard work, but I think you can do it. Don’t make me regret it, son.”
*****
“Leo.”
Tommy cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder blades, using his other hand to pull on the shirt. He shook his head to dry out his hair, causing droplets of water to splash across the floor.
He frowned at the puddle as he pulled the phone away from his ear, stared at it then put it back. “Hello?”
“Yeah, man. What’s up?”
Leo, his best friend since middle school grunted as he spoke to someone else in front of him before coming back on. “Where are you? Aren’t we going out to celebrate?”
Tommy shook the pants out to fold them before he shoved one leg in then put the other one and zipped it up. “Yes, we are. Where are we headed though?”
“Eden,” Leo informed him.
“Okay. I just wanted to ask what time we’re meeting,” Tommy questioned as he adjusted his shirt and gave himself a brief once over in the mirror.
“In half an hour. See you there man.”
“See you.”
Tommy sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair and used some cologne. Tommy had no idea how to approach his newfound status. His friends were still the same, but they were suddenly treating him like he was somebody.
He supposed it was because he was about to start playing for the coyotes. That changed things. He didn’t want it to, though. Fame didn’t interest him in the slightest with all its baggage, drama and inauthenticity.
Tommy was a simple man, and he preferred to keep things simple. However, he did know that it was a big deal whether he wanted it to be or not. He couldn’t change people’s perception of him, but he could control his reaction to the whole change.
“I’ll see you later mom,” Tommy called out as he grabbed his wallet, keys and phone. He slipped them all into his pocket and walked across the room, headed towards the door. It clicked shut behind him, and he began to whistle under his breath as he stepped out onto the street. Tommy inhaled a lungful of air, allowing it to rejuvenate him. His feet crunched against the gravel, and he nodded to a few passerby’s on his way to the bar.
His friends waved him over as soon as he walked in, the pulsing music and neon lights washing over him. The stale smell of sweat and alcohol hit his nostrils, and his mouth twisted as he squeezes his way through the crowd, making it past the throng of people towards his friends, who were seated at the bar.
Leo slid him a pint of beer, and he held it, up taking a huge swallow, and smiling as he felt it warm its way down his throat. The boys chatted easily as Tommy leaned his elbows against the counter and sighed.
The stakes were higher than ever now, and he had no idea how to handle the pressure that was undoubtedly coming. He liked to think of himself as a level-headed guy who had his feet firmly on the ground, but he knew plenty of people who let the game go to his head.
“So, how does it feel knowing you’re the newest member of the Coyotes?” Leo asked as he bumped shoulders against Tommy and took a long gulp of beer, sighing loudly.
“It’s not a guarantee yet, Leo. They might still kick me out.”
Leo snorted. “Why would they do that? You aced that audition fair and square.”
“Yeah, but---“
Tommy was interrupted when a group of loud voices next to them overcame theirs. He shook his head incredulously and turned to look at the group next to them, fully intending to tell them to keep it down until he saw that it was a group of women staring at a group of men who were obviously not wanted.
“What’s wrong ladies?” Their leader asked, shrugging his shoulders as he slipped off his leather jacket. “Don’t you want to see my tattoos?”
“I asked you to leave us alone,” a slim brunette said, her voice dripping with acid. “What part of that is hard to understand?”
The men hollered and hooted as they bumped against each other like pack animals. Tommy rolled his eyes but continued to watch.
“I don’t think you mean that,” the man responded, giving her a smarmy smile.
“I do, so leave us alone,” she said, firmly as the men stepped into her personal space. Tommy saw the look of fear flash across her face before it disappeared. His fist tightened around his drink before he released it.
“Is everything okay here?” Tommy asked, raising his voice as he gave the men a steely look. They shared looks and shifted their legs as they realized he easily outweighed them in muscle.
“It’s cool, man. It’s cool.” Their leader held his hands up in surrender and scrambled away, tossing looks over his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Tommy turned his attention to the brunette whose blue eyes regarded him suspiciously.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to fall all over you,” she said, coldly.
Tommy chuckled. “No, not really. I just thought you could use some help.”
“Yeah, because men can’t respect a woman if she says no and means it, but they can back off if they find out a woman is with a guy,” she said, sarcastically as she angrily shoved her hair behind her shoulders.
Tommy tilted his head to the side. “I never thought of it that way. You’re right.”
The brunette blinked. “Thanks.”
“I’m Tommy.” He held out his hand and waited expectantly. The brunette smiled before she placed her hand in his.
“I’m Aimee,” she introduced before she released his hand, her warmth lingering behind.
“I have to say, you’re braver than any man I know,” Tommy complimented as he leaned back taking in the stunning brunette before him who blushed and ducked her head.
“Thanks.”
Chapter 3
Aimee hated fights.
Especially ones with her father.
They always left her feeling like she wanted to scream her head off and stomp her feet. Not unlike a child throwing a temper tantrum, so instead of giving in to the urge, which would give her father just excuse to call her a child, she just walked away and slammed the door behind her for good measure.
It wasn’t the best of coping mechanisms.
Hell, it wasn’t even a mature one, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances. Besides, she was still technically young. She was allowed to make these mistakes becaus
e whether she liked it or not, sooner or later, she’d be expected to make her full transition into the adult world, and that didn’t include being able to drink, stay out, or flirt.
That world came with certain obligations and responsibilities like paying rent, getting a job, worrying about food, and so on. Aimee wasn’t sure she was ready for it. In fact, she was quite certain that as much as she wanted to get as far away from here as possible, she also didn’t want to be a little adult.
It scared the crap out of her.
She grumbled under her breath and paused in front of the barbed wire fence. Aimee glanced left then right to make sure no one was looking before she hoisted herself, careful not to get her clothes snagged on the line, and she landed on the other side. She grinned to herself as she walked across the stadium, shoving her hands deep in her pockets.
A cold gust of wind blew through her, she sighed as she took off her shoes, and let her toes sink into the freshly cut grass. She wriggled her toes and marveled at how calm she already felt being out here before she made her way towards the bleachers.
She wouldn’t be caught dead in a baseball stadium given her extreme dislike for the sport, which was why it was a perfect spot to hide. No one would ever think of looking for her here. Not that anyone would. Jennifer and Sally were at their respective houses, spending some time with their families, and her father never bothered sending someone after her.
He knew she’d come slinking back home at the end of the day. Much as she hated it, she had nowhere else to go. She knew her parents loved her, even her grumpy and serious dad, but he seemed to have forgotten what it was like to be a teenager.
Growing up had knocked it right out of him, and Aimee was afraid she’d end up like him. It seemed like all he ever did was frown and disapprove, and no matter how hard she tried, Aimee could never get him to admit that she was doing a good job.