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Azalea Blooms 4
Azalea
“Hey,girl.Bigparty at The Ice Drop this weekend. You in? We can get some practice in beforehand then just chill all night. Lukas, your ‘not boyfriend,’ will be there.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “He’s not my boyfriend, Cam. Girls and guys can actually be just friends you know.”
I must have blushed because she saw it and her eyebrow raised. “Uh… huh. Wait, did something finally happen between you two? You do have a bit of a glow about you today. Holy shit… did you two finally bump uglies?”
“No, nothing like that.” I couldn’t help but smile.
“Okay, but something definitely happened. Spill, was it good? I bet it was after the stories I’ve heard about Boner. Girls don’t spend more than a couple hours in his room normally. You, my dear friend, got to stay overnight.”
“He’s my best friend, okay. He has a name and it’s not Player or Boner or whatever the guys call him.” She wouldn’t understand the connection we had with one another born out of childhood secrets and memories.
We walked a few paces behind the team, carrying our bags as we all headed to the sand traps to practice. “So… you in?”
“Yeah, Cam. I’ll go.”
We spent the next forty-five minutes hitting shots from the bunker onto the green. After we were done, Coach pulled out the pin and told us to keep going until we’d each hit the hole five times in a row.
Coach Devin was okay; he was a little rough around the edges. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him smile, but we respected him. He’d led the golf team to state multiple times during his coaching career. Twice while I’ve been in college.
“Okay, ladies. I have a swing shot coach coming in next week to evaluate everyone’s swing to see how we can tweak them to make them better; he’ll help us adjust and hit the ball straighter and longer down the fairway.”
I sink my first two holes consecutively and then line up for my third. I open the club face a little more and address the ball like I should. What a funny line… address the ball. Hello Mr. Golf Ball, sir… If you could find the hole, I would greatly appreciate it. Okay, thanks.
I snorted at my own stupid joke.
Cami was the last one to finish today, so I hung around until she’d sunk her five consecutive shots. “Well, that was shit, Z.”
“Hey… it’s one practice. Don’t beat yourself up. We all have bad days. Shit, do you remember my crap day two weeks ago when I completely choked?” We picked up our bags and headed back up to the driving range.
I threw some balls down and started lining them up to hit. We did this for half an hour before Coach pulled us all back in to discuss this week’s schedule. We had a tournament next weekend. Coach was sending three of us to play: Cami, Philly—short for Philadelphia—and me.
Excitement should have roared through me as I thought about my first tournament of the year. This year, I didn’t feel it. I’d noticed over the last few years that my desire to play golf was waning.
I blamed my father.
The whole reason I started playing golf in the first place. All I ever wanted was his approval, and golf was what he knew. The great Sergio Harris, also known as my sperm donor. He was a golf legend which meant everyone expected me to be by default.
I was good at it and enjoyed playing it. Hell, the country club was my daycare and playground far before it became a thing. But I didn’t feel the same love or excitement over it that I used to.
Couldn’t see how I would when every time I finished a tournament the only reason he called was to tell me what to improve upon next time. Last time I’d played in a tournament I’d won. I was so proud of myself. And what did he say to me? He told me I got lucky. I needed to sharpen my skills or I wouldn’t make it onto the tour. I shook away the memories. Focus.
This tournament was scheduled for Maple Hill Country Club, only about an hour and a half away from the university. I knew for a fact that my father wouldn’t be there, but the one person who mattered would be—Lukas.
It didn’t matter how far away the tournaments were, he’d always drive out and root for me. Then we’d end up hanging out in his hotel room for the night afterward, eating candy and watching movies. It was comfortable, normal.
My stomach did a little dip as I turned the door handle to the study room. I’d told Luke to meet me here at seven tonight. I’d been distracted all day by what happened between us, and now we were going to be secluded in a tiny room shoulder to shoulder, me smelling his cologne and musky aftershave notes.
My nipples pebbled just thinking about it. With a deep and unsteady breath, I opened the door and peeked my head around. My shoulders un-tensed and a sigh slipped out when I realized he wasn’t here yet. I looked down at my watch, noting the time, six fifty-seven. He still had three minutes. It didn't make sense why I was so nervous now when I hadn't been this morning.
Because you’ve been thinking and overanalyzing it since he left your bed.
I pulled my notebooks and textbooks from my backpack and left it on the ground. Might as well get started with this homework now. No time like the present. I was lost in concentration ten minutes later when Lukas finally showed up.
The door swung open and I jumped in my seat, my eyes planting themselves on the door. “Hey, Zales.” Luke’s dimpled smile graced me with its presence.
