Nuts About You: A Testicular Cancer Anthology
Page 59
Baseball is the one thing that has always meant the most to me. Ever since I was five years old and my dad put me in tee ball, it became the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do with my life. I know that sounds like bullshit because I was so young, but it’s true. Dad and I practiced every day we were able with his schedule and responsibilities on the army base, and continued to do so when the season was over. My younger brother, Carson, would play with us, but he never took it as seriously as I did, preferring to build things with any objects he could get his hands on. I lived to watch every baseball game possible, and my dad and grandfather even took me to at least two games a season until I started college last year. Now I’m the one they’re watching play when their schedules permit.
I never dated very much in junior high or high school. I had my choice of dates for football games and dances, when I wanted them, but the girls couldn’t handle how much time I devoted to practicing what they considered ‘just a game’ and felt it wasn’t as important as good old Texas high school football. They expected me to follow them around, hanging on their every word and catering to every whim they had. It’s almost like they saw my jersey as some sort of trophy to be added to their dating shelf.
There was even one girl I tried to date who faked enthusiasm for the game. It only lasted for a month before I found her banging another guy. Well, two actually. I’m damn lucky I hadn’t done anything more than making out with her. That could have been disastrous. I don’t even know why she bothered to go out with me if she didn’t like baseball. That was kind of a requirement, seeing as that’s what I played.
If the girls couldn’t deal with how much I loved it, they could take a hike. I didn’t need their affections or attention then, and I still don’t. However, now that I’m attending college, the reactions to athletes are much more appreciative. All sports are looked at and admired equally, giving more respect to all of the players. It’s nice to see girls who actually appreciate what we do.
There are plenty of parties and games to go to, on and off campus, and getting a date for those has never been easier for me. I’ve rarely ever taken one, but it’s good to have that option if I ever need it. In fact, there is only one girl I’d ever consider giving the time of day. Hell, I’m considering it a lot right now, even though she’s off limits. She understands me and how I feel about the sport. She’s friends with some of the guys on the team, and the two of us hang out a lot together, with our friends and without. There are a lot of things we have in common, and it’s always so easy being around her. No worries. No stress. No awkwardness. It’s refreshing to have something like that with a girl.
Noel Daniels and Cade Matthews joined the baseball team here at Southern Arkansas University, SAU, this year after graduating from El Dorado High School. They are great assets to the team, and are the two guys that I’ve become very close to, feeling like we’re brothers of a sort. Cade’s girlfriend, Stacy Collins, and her best friend, Xana Bradford, who is Noel’s high school ex - turned- current girlfriend, are always with us when we hang out together. That’s how I met her, Mallory. She came along with Stacy and Xana when we started eating meals together. She is in band with them all, and the whole group of us has become close friends.
Mallory is taking a lot of computer classes, like me, and the two of us often work together when studying. We get along very well. The worst part of our relationship and the chemistry we have together is the fact that she has a boyfriend. Boyfriend. Keaton, Mallory said his name was. What kind of name is Keaton, anyway? Sounds pretentious and a little conceited, if you ask me. From what I’ve heard about him lately, he’s beginning to live up to that assessment.
I’ve only seen him once, three months ago, right after Christmas break, and I wasn’t impressed. He didn’t seem to be as excited to see her as she was him. Truthfully, he looked to be counting the minutes until he could leave, constantly checking his phone for a ‘text’ about his grandmother who had a severe cold. Whatever. I don’t know of any guy who would be so thoroughly worried over a grandparent having a cold that he had to check his phone every five minutes, even if they were close, especially if they drove over five hours to get here. Don’t get me wrong, my grandparents and I are very close, me having spent half my childhood visiting them, but even I wouldn’t be that antsy for a text. Something doesn’t add up.
Since then, he misses too many of her calls and hardly returns any, which only cements my suspicions that he’s not as committed to their relationship as he claims. I’ve seen the signs of cheating before, had them flashed in front of me, even. No amount of excuses or explanations from her about the situation can change the facts, regardless of how much she wants them to.
What’s even more surprising to me is Keaton’s sudden interest in spending Spring Break with her and our friends. I was invited to go with them, but politely declined. I’m afraid my temper would get the best of me if I had to be around the two of them together for a whole week. Seeing her laughing and being as lighthearted as she always is with another guy, who isn’t me, isn’t a good idea. Just thinking about their travel plans sets me on edge.
I’m pulled from my irritated thoughts when Cade bumps me on the shoulder as he and Stacy sit down at the dinner table with me and Mallory.
“‘Sup, man,” Cade asks as he passes Stacy her drink from his tray. He nods at Mallory who smiles back.
“Just relaxing a bit before I hit the gym. Where is everyone else,” I inquire. Mallory, sitting in the chair beside me, brushes her leg along mine and doesn’t move away. Oh, shit.
“I don’t know where Dillon is, but Noel’s meeting Xana outside. They should be here in a few,” Cade begins before Stacy interrupts.
“If she doesn’t forget again,” Stacy says shaking her head, She frowns, picking at her food with her fork.
“She’ll be alright,” I console her. “We won’t let her keep it up. HE won’t let her get away with it any more. Just watch, okay?”
“He’s right, Stace,” Mallory agrees, grabbing hold of my knee. “Noel will put his foot down this time and talk some sense into her. We all know he’s had all he can handle.”
Mallory’s right about that. Noel has watched Xana for weeks as she forgot to eat, seldom slept and, quite frankly, studied herself to death over classes for a major she doesn’t want to have. He’s tired of letting her do it her way, and I have a feeling she’s about to learn just how serious he is. I’m slightly surprised he’s let it go this long, but I can’t really talk. I’m letting my woman, Mallory, handle Keaton in her own way, even though I know it’s completely wrong.
We are talking in a much lighter tone when Noel and Xana finally make it to the table. As predicted, she is too caught up in her worry over her classes to pay attention to eating, causing Noel to bring her food she has to eat. Stacy and Cade leave as soon as they’re done eating, leaving just the four of us at the table. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take too long before our discussion turns into Noel putting his foot down about Xana’s incessant studying. He carts her out of the cafeteria to finish their discussion, leaving Mallory and I alone at the table once again.
We finish our meals, and the tension from the previous conversations slowly begins to fade. Mallory releases a loud sigh, and slumps against my side, her head resting on my shoulder. I can smell the floral scent of her shampoo, and it smells so damn good it could easily make me lose control of the need I feel to press her body into mine.
“I hate seeing her stressed out like this and ignoring it, and I know it’s starting to stress him out as well. Maybe he’ll finally get through to her. I’d hate for her to skip out on our trip to the beach for the break.”
“Of course he will,” I reassure her. “I could see it in the way they were with each other. She’ll be fine, he’ll make sure of it.” I gather up my trash and empty plates from the table, moving her away from my side in the process. Any more contact like that and I’ll need to wait a few more minutes before I can leave the table.
“
I know,” she sighs, “but that doesn’t make it any easier,” Mallory stands and gathers her tray to walk out with me in silence.
Exiting the dining hall doors, she finally breaks the quiet with her voice as she asks, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us to Galveston for break?” She looks up at me with those innocent blue eyes, her velvety brown hair blowing in the evening breeze. Doesn’t she realize what effect she has on me?
I’d love nothing more than to spend a week at the beach with her in a bikini while I rub suntan oil all over her tight little body, but I’m pretty sure her boyfriend wouldn’t let me. “No. I’m sure,” I begin, but am interrupted by the ringing of her phone.
Stopping on the sidewalk between the cafeteria and her dorm, she answers the call without looking at the caller ID. Standing next to her, I listen to what she has to say in the conversation, which leaves her upset and confused and me on high alert when she ends the call.
“What’s wrong, M&M? Did something happen?” The shaking of her hands is barely noticeable as she takes in a deep breath and releases it. She doesn’t even respond to the nickname I gave her, Mallory Martin, my M&M. Turning her head to look at me, she gives me a smile I can clearly see is forced. She isn’t fooling me. She never does.
“My best friend from back home just called to let me know she was emailing me some pictures and wanted to make sure I check them soon.” She smiles again, unconvincingly, and shrugs her shoulders before pulling up her email and finding the message from her friend.
Pretending to go along with her story, I lean over and say, “Well, let’s see these amazing pictures,” and move closer to see them.
Clicking through the ten photographs seems to relax her, picture by picture, until she’s completely calm when she inspects the last one. I, on the other hand, am beyond pissed. Photo after photo shows her boyfriend, Keaton, surrounded by girls at a party of some sort. I don’t see many guys in these photographs, just him and several girls, one in particular, that seem to be vying for his attention. There is a partially covered sign in the background with the date clearly visible, and it proves the picture was definitely taken this year. Before I can figure out what to say, Mallory laughs.
“Katie sure loves to take pictures. Some of these are almost the same poses.” She shakes her head in amusement, and I’m almost dumbfounded at her response. Can she not see that her so-called boyfriend is with another girl and not acting like a guy who is in a committed relationship? What the hell?
“Isn’t that your boyfriend? Who are those other people,” I ask, hoping she will either explain why she isn’t worried, or figure it out for herself. I hope I’m wrong, because I don’t want to point out the obvious and hurt her, if it isn’t necessary.
“Yeah, that’s him with some friends from high school. Katie said it was at one of her sorority’s mixers with the football team.” She types out a quick ‘thank you for the pics’ response, adds a smiley emoji, then closes the email app and returns the phone to her back pocket. Finished, she turns for her dorm and I follow.
Unable to keep my mouth shut I say, “I didn’t see a lot of the other football players in those pictures.” Her steps falter briefly, as she hesitates to answer.
“Katie is dating one of the players on the team, and knowing her and her friends, they probably sent the guys off to get their drinks. She’s kinda high maintenance.”
I decide to let the subject drop for now since she doesn’t seem upset anymore, even if I don’t buy a word of it. Reaching the dorm steps, we stop and she looks at her watch.
“Thanks for walking me over here. I’d better go get ready for work. I took a short shift to cover for another girl, so I have to close.”
I hate it when she has to work that late, walking from the parking lot to her dorm by herself. Even though the campus is fairly well-lit in those areas, I don’t believe they’re as safe as she does. Something could always happen; no matter how prepared you think you are.
“Be sure you call or text me when you leave, and when you get to your room, okay?” I tell her this every time I know she’s working late, and I don’t give a shit how silly she thinks it is. I’ll do it every. Single. Time.
Rolling her eyes, she sighs and salutes, “Yes, sir.”
“Very funny,” I reply, not amused in the slightest. “Just do as I ask, or I’ll be forced to escort you back here.” My hands in my pockets, I look back at her so that she understands just how serious I am about that part. She should know how this works by now.
Hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, Mallory fires right back at me, “Hold your horses. I always call, don’t I? Why are you getting all bent out of shape now?” It’s a fair question, one I’m not prepared to explain to her right now.
Trying to lighten the mood and avoid more of her questions, I laugh and say, “Damn, you’re so easy to rile up. Now go on, or you’ll be late.” The scowl on her face fades away, only to be replaced with a grin.
“You’re a jerk,” she accuses and slugs me in the gut. “I’ll talk to you later.” She looks at her watch one more time and dashes up the steps to the front door, turning to wave at me before disappearing inside.
My smile is lost as I walk back to my dorm to change for the gym. Having a spare change of clothes in the gym bag in my car will save me some time, so I decide to grab it instead and change in the locker room. A good, thorough workout should help quiet my thoughts of her and focus my attention to where it should be, on baseball and my end game. Thinking about Mallory, and everything that I just witnessed, further clouds my mood. I really shouldn’t let these things concern me, since she does have a boyfriend and makes her own choices, but there is just something about her that feels right when we’re together. I just can’t walk away from her, even though I know I should.
Chapter 2
It’s Friday night and we’re just heading back to the dorm after practice and dinner. Cade and Noel are busy with their girlfriends, Stacy and Xana, and the other guys are heading out to a party later. All I really want right now is a shower and the television. Classes have kept me busy this week and we’ve had three games as well. Tomorrow is a home game, so at least we don’t have to travel anywhere. It’s nice to just sit in my room tonight and do nothing for a change.
Turning the television on and flipping through the channels, my thoughts drift to Mallory, much like they always do these days. She wasn’t at dinner tonight because she had to work, and I found myself missing her laughter. I can’t believe how much I’ve started to think about her. I shouldn’t let myself get caught up in someone who is unattainable, but she seems to have some sort of spell cast over me. A spell I’m not really putting effort into fighting.
After ten minutes of flipping channels, I give up on finding something to watch that truly interests me, and settle for some talk show on the sports station. They’re discussing some players that I couldn’t care less about, but it allows my mind to wander back to her.
We’ve spent more and more time together the last few months since I’ve been helping her with some of her computer coursework. Computers are easy for me, that’s what I’ve chosen as a career, and she is a very fast learner with anything we work on. She’s kind of a perfectionist with her work, and always has to make sure she has everything down just the right way. I admire that about her.
Steven, my roommate, is gone for the weekend, so I have complete freedom in my room. He isn’t terrible to room with, but he does tend to come and go quite frequently. That can really get on my nerves sometimes.
Just as I’m about to call it a night, I get a text from Mallory.
M&M: I’m on my way home. Got off early.
ME: Good. Txt when home.
M&M: Of course. ;)
It’s good to see she always remembers to call when she’s done with work. I’d hate for something to happen to her and no one be aware of where she is or is supposed to be back. It must be my dad’s military background rubbing off on me. It’s always been drilled i
nto us to keep someone advised of our whereabouts for our own safety, so we’ve just gotten into the habit of letting people know where we are and when we plan on being home. My sister, Gianna Grey, more lovingly called GiGi, was lectured on it more than I was, and that’s nothing to joke about.
Mallory’s job isn’t far from campus and before I know it, my phone is ringing. It’s her. She’s decided to call instead of the usual ‘I’m home’ text, making me glad I’m alone to take her call. Something about the way her voice makes vibrations over the phone makes my dick take notice. Apparently, he also loves the way she sounds so sexy when speaking into the receiver.
“Hey,” I answer, shifting my cell over my ear so I can sit up against my pillow.
“Hey to you. I’m home, of course,” she greets me, a grin apparent in her voice.
“You’d better be. I’d hate to discover you’re lying to me just to avoid my escorting you home.”
“Who knows? Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, having someone guarding my body on the way home at night.” She giggles, unaware of how much guarding her body appeals to me, especially at night. Damn, my boxers are getting a little too tight thinking about it. What the hell?
“Don’t push your luck. Shouldn’t you be ready to go to sleep by now? You got up early to run with me this morning.” She doesn’t run with me all of the time, but I’ve really come to enjoy having someone to run with. We don’t exactly talk while we’re out, but having someone there with me, even in companionable silence, is satisfying in a way I never expected. She doesn’t even mind watching ballgames with me and the guys on television when we’re supposed to be studying for our computer classes. Like I said before, she’s perfect, yet unattainable.
“I’m not tired yet. I guess I still haven’t calmed down from work. We were busy tonight. What did you do?” I can hear her rustling around with her clothes, and suspect she’s changing out of her uniform. Why can’t she be doing that over here? Oh, yeah, Boyfriend.