“You decide on an agent yet?”
Baseball. Draft. The future.Again.
I forced my attention away from Amber and back to Aaron. The determined look on his face was all I’d seen recently. The tightness, the worry and the desperation. Every couple of days it was the same conversation.
Agent.
Press.
Season.
“I haven’t yet.”
“Coach has met with me a couple of times for some guidance on how to decide and my parents have been as much help as they can, but it feels so heavy. I’ve heard of horror stories of choosing the wrong one. I know they make money off us, but picking the right one… Do I want a shark? A dealmaker? Or someone who will be like family for my entire career?”
The muscles in my neck tensed and I finished the rest of my beer, buying myself some more seconds of silence. “Trust your instincts, Hilly. Our focus should be playing the best we can this season. If we do that, then the rest will be easier.”
“That’s what Coach was saying, too. I’m just worried about losing it all.” He spoke quieter, just above a whisper, and guilt consumed me. My friend needed support and I was being difficult because of my indecisiveness. I was better than that.
“I can see why you would worry about that, but, dude, you have a huge support system around you that won’t let you. Greta, your sister, us… Won’t happen.”
“The signs are the same, though. The anxieties and thoughts that spiral out of control.” His eyes were wild and it reminded me of his sophomore year, the year he went on a bender and did a lot of stupid shit that could’ve ruined his career. It was just his reaction to life’s circumstances and while he’d made a lot of steps to be better, I would hate to see him go back to all that.
“Hilly. What has been your goal for your entire life?”
“Play in the majors.”
“How close are you to reaching the first step of it?”
He sighed and the worry on his face disappeared. “Final season.”
“This is it. Play your heart out. We all stayed and are getting degrees so we have backup plans, and we never know when an injury can happen and knock us out of the game. So play your fucking heart out this season, man. It’ll be the last time the four of us play together and I don’t know about you, but that’s motivating for me.”
“Fuck. I never thought about that.” He frowned and held out his fist. I bumped mine against his and he grinned. “When did you become the wise one? I thought it was Zade, but you’re the parent now.”
“Playing abroad taught me a lot.”
Like how I don’t like the lifestyle.
Like how the egos are hard to handle.
Like how being away from my friends and family was too much.
“Plus, I still have control over my balls, unlike the rest of you…”
“Fuck off,” he replied, laughing at what I assumed was how right I was. But the stress was gone on his face and I shoved my own worries down. Aaron would break if he thought our coach had anything to do with a scandal that would blow up the news.
“Let’s get another drink and bother Greta.”
“Sounds like my kinda night.”
Okay.Time to do some work. Amber had done most of it so far and it bothered me. I was never the kid who did the least in a group project and a week in, my contributions were shit.Rosters. Other teams. New players on the team.
Brandon. Hotshot hitter and outfielder, recorded as having a full-ride scholarship to the school. Probably wouldn’t start this season but had potential next year after we’d lose four seniors. I scanned my phone for his number and almost cheered when I found it.
Jeff:Hey—you up for an interview with a campus influencer about your scholarship? It’ll get your name out there and she’s good.
Brandon:Maddow! Dude. Hell yeah.
