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I started to tell him that photo was completely innocent when I remembered Monica’s warning about not telling anyone. Part of me understood why she was requesting that. She didn’t want the truth getting out, but I trusted Jamil and I was honestly at a place in my career where if a fake relationship was what was keeping my career from ending, I probably didn’t deserve to have my career anyway. Most important, I didn’t want to lie to Jamil like that at the beginning of our friendship.
It killed me that my mistakes had dragged Maggie into a position where she was practically forced into signing a contract to help me. If she hadn’t been sure about it, I would have willingly packed up my stuff that day. I remembered the rage that had settled within me as I watched her read the contract. If I had the chance, I would have ripped that contract up and excused myself from the situation to save her any trouble this could cause her.
Maggie didn’t deserve any of the negative attention that could come with being associated with me. But I also couldn’t deny the way she made me feel. Everything about her seemed to be intoxicating to me. I had never had someone listen so intently to me before and truly care about me as a person rather than me as a player.
I also couldn’t get out of my head how much Maggie physically affected me. I had dated some of the most conventionally beautiful women in the world during my time in San Diego. But something about Maggie seemed to drive me wild. That black dress she wore at the club flashed in and out of my mind. When I went to bed that night after I had dropped her off, I turned over and over how guarded she was when I asked her simple questions to get to know her.
Last night wasn’t any different. After our first date, I replayed every detail like it was a movie to be dissected. She was impossible to figure out. There was the look in her eyes when I had cornered her about accepting Monica’s contract. It seemed like she had been terrified by the decision she had made. But when I gave her an out, it was like a mask replaced her fear and a façade of confidence was there instead. During our date, she seemed hesitant at first, but her exterior started to melt as she got more comfortable with me. She had been constantly on my mind as I tried to decipher her, and I was at the point where I needed to tell a friend. I needed to tell Jamil.
“That photo at the club was innocent,” I told him as I went to feed the machine for Jamil. “I offered to take her home when she got overwhelmed by being there. The guy was waiting for a photo outside. Problem is that Monica didn’t like the photo. It was almost a breach of my contract with the Cougars.”
“You’re telling me your contract says ‘no girls’?” Jamil asked.
“Yeah. But she thinks Maggie is controllable since she works for the Cougars. So she proposed a contract for the two of us to fake date to help rehabilitate my image.” Jamil swung, launching a ball to the back of the cage.
“And she said yes?” Jamil’s mouth was practically hanging on the ground. His surprise showed that this was completely uncharacteristic of Maggie. He had known her for the past three years.
“Monica offered her money,” I told him as an explanation.
“Still. That girl avoids anything romantic with the opposite sex like the plague.”
I had spent the past few days wondering what had motivated Maggie to say yes to Monica’s proposal, but the truth was that I didn’t know her well enough to know her true intentions. Maggie also wasn’t the only person with their own reasons for agreeing to the contract.
“I wouldn’t say I’m upset about being in a fake relationship with her,” I admitted as Jamil smacked another ball into the screen that was protecting me. A slow smile spread across his face at what I said.
“You like her.”
“I’m not saying I like her,” I amended. “But I will say that she’s been on my mind nonstop since the first practice where I saw her.”
Last night had firmly solidified Maggie in my thoughts. My mind flashed back to Lake Michigan. I had suggested the excursion as a way for the two of us to get more comfortable with each other, and I found myself hanging on her every word, desperate for any piece of information she was willing to give me. Everything about her was so different than any other girl I had ever known. She had an easy confidence about her, but it was plagued with moments of hesitation. Almost as if she didn’t fully trust herself. There was clearly something that had happened in her life that had impacted her greatly. She carried the weight of it like armor, but she wore it with pride. She made whoever she was talking to feel so important by giving them her entire attention. She listened intently and asked questions that made you feel like she cared. Her energy made me feel at ease, like I had known her for years rather than a few days.
“This fake dating thing is just making it complicated,” I told Jamil after he finished his round and we were picking up balls.
“How?” he asked.
“It’s forcing us to fake something that could have happened naturally,” I told him. I remembered sitting at the conference table, so angry that the contract was even being suggested. But then I remembered looking across the table at Maggie, and how I just found myself agreeing to it despite my better judgment. There was this small voice inside me telling me to take the opportunity to be near her because it would be worth it once it was all over.
“I don’t see it that way. Maggie never in a million years would have given you the time of day if this hadn’t forced you two together. Sure, it may be fake right now. But why not use it as an opportunity to get to know her? You never know what could happen.”
I stared dumbfounded at my friend. How could he make an impossible situation sound so easy? I mulled over what Jamil said. It was a worthy plan, but there was something still holding me up—like the nerves inside my body that felt like they would swallow me whole whenever I was near Maggie. She was out of my comfort zone, completely unlike anyone I’d been with before.
“I’m going to need help. I’ve never dated someone like Maggie, and you know her. I just don’t want to mess anything up with her or do something that I would have done for the girls I previously dated. She deserves better than that.”
Jamil studied me for a minute. “You like her.”
“I told you—”
He shook his head and walked toward the pitching machine. As I walked to the plate for my turn, I thought about what he said. The way that she had been a constant fixture in my mind for the past couple days made me rethink whether I had been lying to myself about only wanting to get to know her because I found her interesting. That alone made me realize that maybe Jamil was right, and I did like Maggie Redford. I didn’t feel the need to pretend with her. All of the outside noise ceased when we were together, and I was finally able to think about something other than what others expected me to be. It honestly terrified me that this was happening during a fairly controversial season for my career. But I was over letting baseball ruin relationships for me. My relationship with my dad was a victim of the game, and I wasn’t going to let something that could be very real with Maggie be the next one in line.
After hitting with Jamil, I still had pent-up energy to burn. Once I pulled back into my garage, I immediately took off down the street after dropping some of my stuff off inside the house. A run seemed like the only thing that would quiet the thoughts racing through my mind. The repetitive pounding of my feet on the concrete took up my focus, replacing the image of Maggie’s smile, which had felt like it might be permanently ingrained there.
I pushed myself harder, wanting to feel my lungs strain to bring oxygen into them. The struggle kept my mind occupied and away from the mess that I had gotten myself into. I wanted nothing more than for my career to be just about baseball. But my decisions had effectively erased any potential of that happening. My lungs squeezed as I pushed my legs to go faster. I weaved in and around people walking on the sidewalk, letting the hum of the Chicago traffic be my music. At the next intersection, I didn’t hesitate before turning left, not caring if I was about to be lost in a city I didn’t know very well yet. At this point, if I ended up in an unsafe area, I would say I probably deserved it.
A large, fenced-in basketball court came into view next to me. Kids were laughing and yelling while playing a pickup game. My legs started to slow down as I remembered a similar scene of me and my friends going to the local park baseball field like a scene out of The Sandlot. A large sign on the building read Chicago Boys & Girls Club. I took in the court with new eyes, seeing the asphalt that was starting to tear up, making it unsafe to play. I saw the hoops that were missing nets and basketballs that looked to be decades old. My chest was aching for a very different reason than the run I had finished.
My entire career had felt like it had been handed to me. I had been put in the most prestigious travel clubs, setting me up for more success than the next player. My parents had never hesitated to throw more money at lessons or strength and conditioning coaches to give me the best chance to achieve my dreams. As I watched the boys playing a game of basketball in front of me, bile swelled in my throat. These kids would kill to have the opportunities I had in my life, and here I had almost thrown my entire career away.
I turned and took off running back where I came from, thoughts of needing to be a better person this year racing through my head. It didn’t matter how fast I pushed my legs on the way home, those boys making the most of what they had were stuck in my head. No amount of running could make that go away.
