And I love you too. My beautiful little misfit.”
37
Grant
On Friday, Maya asks a friend to fill in for her lunch shift and we spend all day making up for the fact that we haven’t see each other in three weeks. You know what I realize? As much fun as hooking up on the sly can be, what’s more fun is screwing in a king size bed. And don’t get me started on makeup sex. We do it in the shower, too, because that’s kind of becoming our thing.
Also, I call Paul and Dave and see if they’re able to give Maya a little surprise to lift her spirits. They all agree, and they help me get in touch with the rest of Maya’s family to set the wheels in motion as quickly as possible.
Saturday morning, we wake up early and head to the Greene State campus. The visit has several purposes.
First, Maya still has to pick up some of the stuff she left in her room. Second, we both agree that we’re going to walk around campus like it’s no big deal, and tell off any of the porn-watching hypocrites who want to make us feel bad. Third, I need to officially quit the team. Fourth, this is where I’m giving Maya her surprise.
Maya’s taught me a lot about what to do when you get pushed around. The reality is, Coach Johnson has been treating me like a second-class citizen. Maybe the frat thing is part of it. Some people just get this idea in their head about what a ‘frat guy’ is like, and they can’t stop themselves. I treat everyone and their mother with respect, but he thinks I’m this partying a-hole who doesn’t deserve a starting spot on the team. Maya and I talk it out and we came to this conclusion—I’m the team’s best and he’s not playing me, I’m not going to stand for it any longer.
It feels damn good to have Maya by my side again. I feel like I’ve got my mojo back. I can’t believe this girl doesn’t think of herself as loveable. I love her so much I don’t even understand it myself sometimes.
After our drive down, I stroll into Coach Johnson’s office a little before nine a.m. The early Saturday morning sun illuminates everything as I walk in. He’s sitting at his desk and looks quite surprised to see me.
“Taylor, where have you been? You missed yesterday’s practice. I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Missed? I thought you were suspending me for knocking out Teague.”
“Well, I, uh…” he stumbles over his words. “I did a lot of thinking yesterday. And I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Coach Johnson, let me go first. There’s no reason to beat around the bush. I quit,” I say, and toss my home jersey onto his desk.
He won’t be getting the other jersey back because it now belongs to a very special someone.
His brow wrinkles. “Why are you giving me this?”
My voice is firm. “Because I quit. I’m done being treated like a second-class citizen because you hate the frats. Or maybe it’s just me you hate. You’re starting your favorite pitchers instead of me. It’s so obvious, and I’m done standing for it. So, I quit.”
He narrows his eyes. “Would you please have a seat, Taylor? At least let me tell you what I’ve been thinking about yesterday.”
“No, thanks. I’ve got to be going.”
“I think you’ll want to hear this.”
I sigh. After the past two nights with Maya, my head feels clearer than it ever has. The death card might have been hers in Michigan, but now it’s mine. Sometimes a little death is a necessary thing.
“I’ll stand. Coach, I had a long chat with my girlfriend on the way here. And I feel like I’ve finally figured out what to do about this whole situation. I’m here to say that I’m quitting the team. Sometimes ending a toxic relationship is something that must happen. If you’re going to push me around and keep me from fulfilling my potential as a player, I’m going to look at transferring. I throw harder and have better stats than anyone on the team and you know it. I’m not going to let baseball—one of the most important parts of my life—be run by you like it’s an authoritarian government.”
“Jesus. You Greene students and your authoritarian references. It’s like—”
“Did you have something I wanted to hear?” I cut him off.
“Sorry. I’m getting off topic. Taylor, I respect the hell out