Spring Perfection Read online

  Top of the Seventh

  The sixth inning still brings no score. We are still ahead one to zero.

  I find myself hoping the other team will hit a homerun or something and take the pressure off of me. Then I can fake some shoulder strain and get out of the game. I will head out to the locker room and then sneak off to the surprise I had for Reyna. Yeah, that can work. I just have to get out of here.

  I throw a fast ball straight down the middle. Just as I thought, the batter hits a long one down the left field line. The ball is so out of here. But then Derek suddenly turns into Spiderman and nearly scales the wall to make an incredible catch.

  The crowd explodes in applause. The batter is out.

  This means I have to continue my perfect game. I catch a glimpse of Sam in the bleachers. She is standing with her hands on her hips and glaring at me as if I have just beat a baby seal with a bat. My behavior is unacceptable to her. Somehow she knows what I am trying to do. She will kill me if I ruin this chance at a perfect game. She already told me at the beginning of the season that there is a brand new mustang convertible waiting for me if I accomplish this. To be honest, this game means more to her than it does to me.

  Returning to the dugout I try to block out Coach who is yammering in my ear about being only nine outs away from making history. No high school student has ever pitched a perfect game against a college team. Even though this is just an exhibition game, I am sure it will be on the local news tonight. It might even make the national news.

  I am not so sure why I am so on today. Why can't any of the College of Charleston players hit against me today? It's like I'm unstoppable and I'm not even trying that hard. I don't even want to play this game. It was a last minute addition to our schedule. I had my day with Reyna all planned when Coach called me in his office yesterday afternoon and told me I would be pitching.

  At the beginning of the game, I just wanted it to be over as soon as possible. That was why I kept throwing strike after strike. But by the bottom of the fourth when no one had made it on base, I started hearing whisperings of a perfect game. And now, I start to feel the pressure of the possible perfect game.

  I lean my head back and close my eyes trying to drown out all the sounds of the cheering fans, the crack of the ball against the bat, even the sound of cleats on grass. These are sounds that I usually love. But today, I just want it to be over. I have to get to Reyna. I can't let her down again...I shudder at the thought of the last time I had let her down.

  Seventh Grade Dance

  I'm not in love with Reyna. At least that's what I've been telling myself for the past five and a half years. Even though she was my first kiss due to a little playground experiment in the sixth grade and even though she was the only person that actually knew me...the real me. I loved her like a friend and nothing more. Or so I thought.

  I thought taking her to the seventh grade dance would be no big deal. But if she was only a friend to me, why was it so hard for me to ask her to go to the dance in the first place? Why did the palms of my hands get sweatier than a pork chop wrapped in plastic on a porch every time I thought about asking her? Why did it take me two days to get the courage to ask? And why did my heart nearly stop when she did her cheek blowing out thing? And why in the world was that simple habit of hers so adorable?

  While I stared at her with her cheeks puffed out, I knew she was searching for that tingle in her stomach. She always looked for some feeling or sign from La Cienega in order to know whether to do something or not. I sure hoped La Cienega wasn't taking a nap or something and would send her the sign she needed.

  Truth is, I wanted to feel that tingle too. The last time I'd felt it was when we had kissed on the playground the year before. We'd never tried anything else since. Reyna was so convinced I liked Amanda and not her. I don't know why I never corrected her. Maybe this would be my chance. Maybe I would get to kiss her again at the seventh grade dance and if I felt that tingle again I would know. I would know for sure she was the one.

  Instead of responding with a simple yes or no, Reyna said, "Are you sure, Scottie?"

  "Yeah, I'm sure. I want to take you to the dance."

  She sighed and said, "Does your mother know?"

  My mother. Samantha Kincaid. She was a like gale force wind of hate and irrationality. The only time I ever spoke to her was about sports. Even in the seventh grade I knew not to give Sam too many details about my personal life. She would just find a way to criticize me.

  "Yeah, sure, she knows," I lied. Of course my mother didn't know. If she knew that I was contemplating going to a dance with a black person, she'd probably pack me up and ship me off to some sort of ridiculous and unnecessary sport camp until I changed my mind. She'd done it before. When I told her I wanted to quit the track team for the baseball team, she sent me to a sprinting camp in Oregon. I didn't even know there was such a thing as a sprinting camp. Anyway, I didn't change my mind. And when she saw how fast I could pitch, she's the one that cleared off a space in our trophy room for my future baseball trophies.

  Reyna smiled and said, "Okay, let's go." It was the happiest I'd ever seen her. She almost skipped off to her next class.

  But things didn't go as planned. The dance never happened.

  I remember getting Coach to help me rent a tuxedo. That was something Sam would never agree to so I knew not to even ask. The most formal piece of clothing she owned was a pair of running shoes that my little brother Stu spilled glitter on.

  The night of the dance, I put on the suit and held Reyna's corsage in my hand as I stared in the mirror. I looked like a complete dork. What other seventh grade boy would wear a tuxedo? Most of the other boys didn't even have real dates. They were just planning on showing up and hanging against the wall for most of the night. I was making too big of a deal about this. Reyna would think I was crazy.

  I quickly stripped, threw on a pair of khakis, a Carolina Panthers jersey, and the tuxedo jacket. I stared at myself in the mirror again. I looked pretty good if I do say so myself.

  Next it was time to get Sam to take me to school. Unfortunately, I was only in the seventh grade. I was only thirteen which meant no wheels. Sam still held a lot of power over my life. If I was sixteen and had my own car, I would have just driven myself. I would have snuck out the window if I had to. But at this age, I needed Sam's permission.

  "Can you give me a ride to school?" I asked Sam as she sat on the couch watching a game on ESPN.

  "School? Why do you want to go to school? It's Thursday night?" she asked without taking her eyes off the television. She was watching Duke play and wanted to make sure they lost. She hated Duke. They rejected her college application because the fact that she could run four minute mile didn't outshine her lackluster grades. Sixteen years later she was still holding a grudge.

  "There's a dance tonight. I want to go," I said. I was way too innocent back then. I should have concocted some story about a mandatory basketball practice or something, but I never expected the evening to proceed as it did.

  Sam tore her eyes away from the television and looked me up and down. "You look ridiculous," she said before turning her attention back to the TV.

  I sighed. "Mom, are you gonna take me or not?"

  "Six minutes on the clock. Just wait till the end of the game." She waved me off.

  In a basketball game, I knew six minutes on the clock could very well mean fifteen or twenty actual minutes. I went back upstairs to obsess over my look for another twenty minutes.

  When the game was over, I went back down stairs. "Can we go now?" I asked her. She was in the kitchen making one of her God awful protein smoothies. The way she angrily slammed cabinets shut, I knew Duke must have won. She was in a really bad mood.

  "You're not going anywhere, Scott."

  "Why not?"

  "I did some research. Made some calls. You're going with Reyna Lewis?"

  "Yeah, so?"

  "Unacceptable."

  "Why?" I asked completely in sh
ock. How had she found out about Reyna? I bet she called Coach. Sam was a pro at spying on me. I should have told him not to tell her anything in case she asked.

  "Don't be stupid, Scott. She's a typical gold-digging whore. All she wants is your money."

  This was classic Sam-speak. She had this idea in her head that I was worth millions in future sports contracts.

  "I don't have any money, Sam. I'm only thirteen. She's my friend. She's my best friend. I promised her."

  Sam turned on the blender. She probably didn't hear a word I said. When she finally turned off the blender, I repeated myself but she didn't care. She poured two glasses and sat down at the table.

  "Sit," she said, placing a glass of the disgusting protein drink down in front of me. "Drink that. Then we're going for a run."

  "No, we're not. I'm going to the dance."

  "The hell you are. Dating a girl like Reyna could ruin your persona and irreparably damage your future earning potential. It's out of the question. Drink."

  Tears stung in my eyes. I absolutely refused to let her see me cry. To avoid an onslaught of tears I chugged the protein drink just to distract my emotions. When I finished, she proceeded to lecture me about my responsibilities as a future professional athlete and how I had to lay the groundwork now in order to have a successful future. An hour later, we went for a run and I never made it to that dance.

  The next morning at school, I waited for Reyna by her locker. She took one look at me and then took a different route to her first class. She could avoid me for first period; we were in different math classes. But she'd have to talk to me in English class.

  All through first period, I rehearsed what I would say to her. I had to figure out something to tell her that would make her forgive me. That something didn't include what my insane mother had said. I thought she would be even more hurt if she knew how my mother felt about her.

  So instead, as soon as she entered English class I said, "I'm so sorry Rey. I got caught up playing video games and I totally lost track of time."

  She stared at me incredulously. "Video games?" she asked.

  I nodded.

  "Which one?" She crossed her arms and stared at me.

  She knew I was lying. She had to. I was such a bad liar and she knew me so well I wouldn't be able to lie to her if I'd planned it for weeks. She was sure to see through this last minute fib.

  "Grand Theft Auto," I said naming the first game I could think of.

  She raised an eyebrow. "Grand Theft Auto? You hate Grand Theft Auto. You say it's depressing."

  She was right about that. We'd had a conversation about it almost a year ago. How did she remember things like that?

  She had caught me lying and I had no idea what to say. Instead, I just stood there with my mouth hanging open.

  Reyna rolled her eyes and stormed off to the other side of the room away from the seat next to mine where she always sat.

  Before sitting down, I went and placed her corsage on her desk. "I really am sorry, Rey," I said before taking my seat.

  I spent the entire class period staring at Reyna as she stared at that red hibiscus. The flower was actually called La Flor Maga and was the national flower of Puerto Rico. I had to have it specially ordered.

  Reyna continued to avoid me for the next two periods. But at lunch time, she sat down in front of me and said three little words that I had been waiting for all day.

  "I forgive you."

  And that was that. We never spoke of it again.

  Top of the eighth

  It is now 5:15. I check on the watch Reyna gave me for my 14th birthday almost three years ago. The sun is scheduled to set at 7:43 pm tonight. I know because I checked about thirty-five times that morning. Her surprise is located an hour away by boat. If the game ends in the next twenty minutes, I'll still have time to shower, change, pick up Rey and get her to the special spot before sunset. That is if there is no traffic. There is always traffic. I am running out of time and options. I am beginning to panic.

  This day is such an important day in Reyna's life. I have to be there for her. I just have to. If this game doesn't end in twenty minutes, I'm going to have a very difficult decision to make.

  I take my stance and get ready to throw out the first pitch of the eighth inning.

  The Surprise

  Ten years ago today, Reyna's mother died. Usually, she and her father tried to make it back to Puerto Rico to visit her grave, but this year they couldn't. Her father had to travel to Florida to take care of his sick mother, and he didn't want Reyna leaving the States on her own.

  I think it is sad how most people feel Spring is a time of rebirth and new beginnings, but for Reyna it will always be a time of loss and mourning. That's why she wasn't at the game. She was probably sitting alone in her room trying her best to feel La Cienega's smile.

  When I looked in the sky and noted the hour, I dashed to the locker room faster than a cheetah on roller skates. I know my teammates think I am odd, but I have some place to be. I have a promise to keep.

  After the quickest shower ever, I hop into my Jeep and speed over to Reyna's house. Her front door is locked so I scale the wall and look into her bedroom window. Just like I thought, she is lying in her bed when I arrive.

  I knock on the window.

  "What are you doing here?" she asks as she opens the window and helps me in. "How was the game?"

  "Don't worry about the game," I say as I climb into her room. I fold her into my arms. She knows why I'm there and it makes her start to cry softly. I want to tell her that no game could mean to me as much as she does, but I don't know if that will make her cry even more. So I just hold her and let her cry. I know she isn't really crying over a baseball game anyway.

  When she calms down somewhat I say, "Let's go. It's time for your surprise."

  "What? You're still doing that?" she asked, wiping away tears. "I thought because of the game you would cancel."

  "Nope, we're still on. Get your stuff."

  "What kind of surprise is it? Where are we going?"

  "Well, if I told you that it wouldn't be much of a surprise now would it?"

  She smiles and mumbles something in Spanish. I am just about to ask her what she said when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I take a deep breath hoping it isn't my mother. Unfortunately, it is worse.

  "Who is it?" Reyna asked.

  "Kimmie."

  "Yeah, Kimmie.Your girlfriend. Do you have plans with her tonight? Maybe we can do this surprise thing later."

  Technically, Kimmie is my girlfriend. At least I think she is. I honestly think she broke up with me last week. But that could have been Karly. I have trouble keeping girls names straight sometimes.

  I always thought that term girlfriend was kind of odd in my situation. None of those girls are really my friend. I mean, most of them didn't know the difference between a strike and a touchdown. Reyna is my only real friend who is a girl. Actually, she is probably my only real friend besides my brother Stu. But for some reason we have never dated. None of my relationships ever have happily ever afters.

  I dismiss the call then send a quick text to my brother letting him know I'm okay and not to expect me home. Then I toss the phone on Reyna's desk. I plan on leaving it there. I don't want any distractions. "No. Today. It has to be today," I answer Rey's question. "You got five minutes to get ready. We're losing daylight."

  "Losing daylight?" she asks. "Where exactly are you taking me?'

  "Don't worry about that. Oh, and bring a sleeping bag," I add before leaving the room.

  "Sleeping bag?Sleeping bag?" I heard her call out after me.

  Reyna won't stop asking questions during the entire car ride to the marina. I just smile and let her keep guessing. It is fun to hear all of her conjectures. She guesses everything from Detroit to Disney World. Though I have no idea what possess her to think I would take her to Detroit.

  "The marina?" she asks as I park. "Scott, did you buy me a boat?" she asks jokingly. Though
many of our classmates do own their own boats, she knows I can't afford one. Not until I get that big MLB contract anyway.

  "We're using Harrison's sailboat," I say referring to our classmate Harrison McKinley III. He's a senior on the football team who owes me a favor.

  "Where are we going?" she asks.

  "Stop asking questions and grab your stuff."

  I practically run to the dock and toss in my gear. Reyna is a step behind me with a smile on her face.

  I'm not an expert at sailing by any means, but Harrison has taught me enough so that we make good time to the little island I've picked out where we will spend the night. One that has the perfect balance of marshland and view of the sky.

  Charleston has lots of little privately owned islands along the coast. It took me two weeks to find the perfect one for us and then another three weeks to convince the owner to let me use it.

  Reyna is quiet and reflective the entire boat ride over. It's like the sea air awakens a familiar part of her. She is staring off into the sky. I know she is thinking of Puerto Rico.

  I dock the boat on the island, toss out our stuff then reach for her hand. She pauses as she looks at the shore. She spies the blanket, the radio and the cooler. Then she sees the picture of her mother that I have placed in a frame of the Puerto Rican flag.

  "Oh, Scottie," she says as she starts to put things together.

  "I hope this is okay," I say as I help her out of the boat. "I know this is a hard time for you and I know you would rather be on your home island remembering your mother. But I thought, just for this year, you could share this island with me, your best friend, and I could think of your mother with you."

  She is quiet and I think for a moment that I've made a mistake. I was too presumptuous. What made me think that she would want to spend this day with me? What made me think she would want to wallow in the sadness of her mother's death? This was a stupid idea.